"What did you say?"
The younger of the engineers was losing his cool for the second time today, but this time, his father right beside him wouldn't let him speak any further. Grabbing him roughly by the arm, he pulled him close and whispered in his son's ear.
"If you open your mouth one more time, you can forget about seeing the sun this year!"
The blood that had rushed to his face while he lashed out in excitement hid in the most secluded corners of his body at that moment, and his face was as white as a zombie fresh out of the grave. Wind of Death looked at the young engineer for a moment; it looked like she was going to say something, but when she saw the man who gave the necessary lesson instead, she didn't push the issue.
"The newcomers are very distant as always, I hope we'll get the chance to see their high standards. Let's return to our bidding, the last figure is 180 gold pieces. Do I hear a higher bid?"
After balancing the atmosphere, the Auctioneer, who couldn't help but make a snide remark, returned to his main business, the sale of the energy unit coded F-102 waiting on the display table.
"200 gold pieces, and this is my final figure!"
The engineer, who had spoken in a whisper just now, called out in a tone everyone could hear comfortably. The words gently striking his throat came out of his mouth a little dirtied, underlining the attractiveness middle age added to men.
"How could I possibly increase the figure after the great master Clemens Holzmeister has graced us with his presence? I hear you work day and night in your workshop; if you feel the need to blow off some steam, I would like to host you at my establishment one night!"
Manukyan, trying her best not to accept being covered by the gray curtain of old age, spoke by batting her eyes, which she had highlighted by applying kohl. There was no room for doubt; Clemens Holzmeister was in a completely different position in the woman's eyes.
"I cannot thank you enough for your polite invitation, but as you know, the Heart of the Sand doesn't wait. The desert continues to wear down our city every moment, and I have to do whatever I can to stand against this!"
This attitude of the man, touching upon all previous conversations in a single answer, caused Wind of Death to gather all her attention on him. In the lands under their dominion, orcs ruled individuals with an iron fist, and there was no question of anyone claiming a right for the money or labor they gave to the empire.
Madam Manukyan was of course aware that the desert sands were ruining the city, she knew where the gold she paid was spent, but despite this, she could put the administrators in a difficult position by increasing the price of a product that would benefit the people.
After reminding her of this fact, Clemens Holzmeister gave a polite nod and turned to the Auctioneer; he was counting the seconds to take the product he gave his final price for.
"250 gold pieces!"
An unexpected thing happened at that moment; Wind of Death, who had previously thrown her disinterest in the product in the Auctioneer's face, increased the bid by a quarter. Dona Gracia, enjoying himself on his throne, pushed away the grapes being shoved into his mouth with his hand and sat up straight with the help of his other hand.
"500 gold pieces!"
The dwarf standing in front of the caravan turned around in a panic; it was obvious he panicked when his master took the initiative and spoke.
"Master, don't trouble yourself, this servant of yours will do what is necessary!"
The dwarf, crushed when he didn't use him and spoke directly, would sink into the ground after the next words.
"Shut up, Tito!"
This was a place known as the Heart of the Sand; it was the capital of the misfits in the World of the Six Civilizations, and all the residents who had enough standing to watch the auction knew more or less how many gold pieces the F-102 coded energy storage was worth.
When they saw the business go from buying a product to turning into a duel, they started rubbing their hands together, because it was never clear when such situations would get out of hand.
"1000 gold pieces!"
When what they guessed started, a hum where many different types of exclamations linked arms rose up; those in the outer circle had already gotten caught up in the excitement of the clash.
"2000 gold pieces!"
The bid wasn't increasing by ten percent, twenty percent, but directly doubling, and it was very clear the mysterious duo had no problem with this matter.
"4000 gold pieces!"
When Dona Gracia stomped his foot, which resembled the trunk of a thick tree, on the ground, the slaves carrying the palanquin on the right side groaned in pain. The dwarf right in front of them slowly lowered his weapons from his sleeves towards his palms, but those across from him weren't people to be underestimated either.
"8000 gold pieces!"
Hearing the new bid, Wind of Death first turned around and looked at Soul Stealer, and when she turned to the front again, the price of the F-102 had risen to five-digit numbers.
"16,000 gold pieces!"
When the merchant, who had long surpassed the limits of obesity, stomped both his feet, the slaves dropped to their knees, and twenty people from the convoy waiting behind them ran and lined up in two rows behind the dwarf.
"32,000 gold pieces!"
Neither side was backing down; neither the Hyenas nor the Engineers were stupid enough to enter this struggle, only the Auctioneer dared to step forward, thinking he caught the opportunity to crush Wind of Death.
"One of the three kings of the Heart of the Sand has spoken his piece, let's see if our guests have the courage to say anything to top this?"
The muscles on his ever-smiling face were tense, he could barely speak due to the pressure his clenched teeth put on his jaw, but the addressee of the question was very relaxed.
"The figure has become utterly ridiculous!"
Wind of Death paused her speech and took a deep breath. For everyone except Soul Stealer, this was a preparation for a retreat, but what they were about to hear next was the kind to leave their mouths hanging open.
"I am not someone to deal with fractions. 100,000 gold pieces!"
Until the gavel he raised in the air fell to the ground, the Auctioneer didn't look like he believed what he heard; the beauties on either side of him covered their mouths with their hands, and a dead silence reigned in the outer circle, waiting to let out an enthusiastic cheer.
When the man resembling a pile of shit took his first step, the twenty slaves bent down gradually, and going down the human staircase formed, Dona Gracia reached the floor with a groan accompanying every step. The dwarf was right beside him; he was so resentful that his master had to exert himself to this degree that all the veins on his face were forcing themselves to pop out.
"200,000 gold pieces! I was very curious how far you could go!"
The people, who had to open their eyes to the fullest due to the insufficient lighting, had to turn their heads away in the face of the sparkle of the gold surrounding the merchant resembling a pile of fat. What did this mean; he was saying, I am not bluffing, I am not increasing the price with imaginary figures, if you have the courage, you put up the necessary gold too.
"400,000 gold pieces! I would respect it if you want to have the dwarf next to you count it, don't worry about offending me!"
There were so many gold coins that the sunbeams managing to enter through the holes, the largest of which was the size of an egg, went crazy the moment they hit them and launched an attack toward people's pupils.
"500,000 gold pieces!"
Neues, who got angry when the price was increased while it was around a hundred gold pieces, had practically withdrawn into himself; in the face of the massive figures and the gold proving they were real, he was left feeling like an ant. There were exactly 900,000 gold pieces around the stage where the auction was held, but one person didn't know when to stop at all.
"Weren't we doubling it directly? I guess 500,000 gold pieces was the highest price you could go up to, then there is no need to drag this out any further.
"1 million gold pieces!"
The gold gushing out from the ring Wind of Death tossed into the air resembled a small mountain, and next to them, Dona Gracia's bid was nothing but a joke.
"Are you going to give me that antique, or are you planning to stare at my gold for a while longer?"
She was both paying one million gold pieces and referring to the product as an antique. The attitudes of the duo whose origin was unknown continued to leave the onlookers in astonishment at least as much as what they did.