Baston swallowed hard when Panto finished speaking.
For a moment, the laughter and the chatter inside Rembrant's store felt distant. The fake event of purchase from the beginning echoed louder than the clinking of coins.
He had never instructed the puppet to do anything beyond buying the magic water in bulk.
After all, the quest had arrived at the last moment so he had simply executed it. This was the only way he could think in one day since the quest had time limit.
And yet, in the eyes of the city, the first and second buyer were now a mastermind in this grand picture. Albeit it was unintentional, the effect was quite effective.
Somehow, it made few people to think there was a hidden transaction in such case.
"The rumor is spreading fast," Panto added in a low voice, "Some say he manipulated the supply from the start, some say he colluded with the store, and some say he's connected to the underground dealers."
Baston forced himself to breathe evenly.
It was a slander built from the coincidence and a lie born from the ignorance. But for the lies, when it was repeated enough, it unexpectedly became the truth. He could not deny it publicly.
If he defended the unknown buyer too passionately, the suspicion might shift. And if anyone traced that buyer to his puppet before pointing to him, it would spell even big trouble.
The thought made his spine stiffened.
The magic water was now scarce across the merchant district. The bottles that had once gathered dust on the shelves were suddenly coveted.
Some hoarded it for personal use while the others whispered about selling it through the hidden channels which could be deemed as the black market.
The phrase alone conjured the images of dark alleys and the knives that were glinting beneath the cloaks.
Baston had intended to profit cleanly through the quest's mechanism. He had not planned to step into the criminal networks. After all, he had not planned for the city to imagine him as a villain.
In the end, everything was a coincidence and misunderstanding. While he intended to sell the magic water he had bought before, it seemed the situation forbade him.
Somehow, it became trash for him since he didn't have any need for such goods.
*****
Back at the inn, after Panto insisted on treating him to an overly generous lunch, Baston locked himself inside his room.
On the table, the old book lay silently. It remained like that since there was no new quest again after the last.
He sat at the edge of the bed and his fingers were brushing the old book without opening it. It had been silent for days and that silence bothered him more since he felt he finally found a pattern.
Previously, the old book issued a new quest whenever a new stage was set. There would be a challenge, a temptation, and a social battlefield. Yet today, as the wealth and the influence gathered in one place, it remained still.
Was it observing or was it waiting for another circumstance?
He stood and walked to the window. At the outside, the city lights flickered like the scattered embers. Somewhere out there, people still whispered about a faceless manipulator who cornered the magic water market.
If they only knew how accidental it truly was, they would realize everything was just a coincidence. But the accidents were never believed to be the one if it was profitable.
While thinking of such mess, he adjusted his cuff slowly. If tonight became another stage, then he needed to perform without being asked.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror.
Rembrant had already delivered his formal attire for the upcoming event. It was a tailored dark coat, crisp collar, and polished boots. The cut sharpened his silhouette.
Under the magic lamp, he almost resembled a young noble. Surely, the appearance was the power and tonight, such power would gather.
"Alright…" Baston murmured, straightening the collar, "Let's see what kind of stage this auction truly is…"
*****
The night descended with the deliberate elegance.
The auction venue stood near the heart of the city, bigger and wider than the Rembrant's entire establishment combined. The lanterns illuminated the façade and the carriages lined the streets in a slow procession.
The traffic was heavy enough that the city guards had to intervene, redirecting the wheels and reins to prevent congestion.
Inside their rented carriage, Rembrant adjusted his cuffs calmly. Panto peeked through the curtains while Baston did the same and blinked.
The main pathway toward the entrance was crowded with women of all ages. There were young, middle-aged, and even elderly. They stood in clusters, whispering, adjusting their dresses, and glancing at each arriving carriage.
"Why are there so many women?" Baston muttered.
Panto didn't even look surprised, "They are looking for the opportunity… Some want husbands, some want patrons, and some want employment. After all, the wealth gathers here tonight. With such temptation, they gather too."
As their carriage rolled forward, Baston also noticed something else beyond the crowd of women.
There were other carriages. It was not the noble ones and not the decorated merchant ones. These were plain plus unmarked. It was parked slightly farther from the entrance.
Several men stood nearby with their arms folded and their faces were hidden beneath the shadowed hats. They were not here to enter the auction. They were here to watch who did. The realization sent a subtle chill through him. Money truly did not move in the isolation.
Where the wealth gathered, the unseen interests gathered too. The gold attracted wolves but these wolves did not always bare their fangs.
When their carriage halted, the murmuring intensified. The door opened and the cold night air brushed Baston's face. By then, he heard few magnificent screams.
"Look at that gentleman!"
"That one in the dark coat… He is so refined!"
"The merchant heir is handsome!"
Baston nearly stumbled since he pondered what was on him that looked refined. He kept his gaze forward, resisting the urge to shrink.
Beside him, Rembrant offered few polite nods and Panto waved casually. The shouting blurred into meaningless flattery. It was not the admiration. It was more toward the assessment and calculation.
Who was the rich one?
Who was the rising one?
Who could be attached to?
He quickened his steps until the venue doors closed behind them.
Only then, the noise dulled greatly. Inside, the lobby glittered with the crystal chandeliers that were hung from a ceiling. It was painted with several mythic beasts and the marble fountain shimmered under some soft enchantments.
The servants circulated with their silver trays of wine and delicacies while the magic hummed faintly beneath the floor.
The surrounding wall was full of protection arrays and the sound dampening spells, making it looked like the partition room for privacy. The wealth did not merely display itself since it fortified the glamour in this place.
While Baston examined the glowing sigils along the walls, he noticed something peculiar. Some of the enchantment patterns were layered.
It was not only merely defensive. He recognized the structure faintly from the academy lectures about the mana suppression matrices.
There was the weak ones, subtle enough not to disturb the ordinary guests but effective in preventing the large-scale spell casting. In summary, the venue anticipated the possibility of the violence or the theft. It could be also for both of the situation.
He glanced toward the fountain. The water shimmered gently under its magical influence, reflecting the chandelier light like the liquid glass.
For a place built on wealth, the security felt almost paranoid which meant the items tonight were more than the decorative trophies. While he could only look around, Rembrant was soon absorbed into the conversation with fellow merchants.
"Ah, Rembrant! Still surviving for another year?"
"I'm barely holding on…" Rembrant chuckled, "Unlike you..."
The business was full of smiles and laughter despite hidden with the veiled probing.
Panto leaned closer to Baston, "Let's walk around first…"
They moved toward the periphery, sampling the food and drink. Baston observed quietly that the attendees' clothing varied but even the simplest fabric carried much quality. In here, the poverty could not step beyond the door.
"Panto…"
A group of youngsters approached, consisted of boys and girls with roughly the same age as them. Clearly, everyone here was the merchant heirs.
They were the colleagues in the open and the competitors in the darkness. All of them were wearing the same pleasant expressions.
"I thought you were still at the academy," one boy said.
"I just returned," Panto replied smoothly, "I'm showing my friend around at the moment."
"I heard about the ice bead," a girl said lightly, "It's quite a fortunate timing."
There was a subtle edge beneath her smile. Panto's grin tightened since he knew the meaning.
"The timing is everything," he answered, "My father worries about the transport security more than the sales."
Baston watched the exchange. Behind the polite words, there was a hidden contest. They were not interested in friendship because they were more interested in him.
One of the boys extended his hand, "If you ever have the goods to sell again, you can consider our family."
Baston shook it, "I will consider then…"
The handshake was neutral with no commitment. Still, the message had already spread that the ice bead's supplier was here. He was alive, young, and accessible currently. After the polite handshakes ended, one of the merchant boys lingered half a step longer.
"You're fortunate," the boy said lightly, "Such opportunities like this don't come often."
Baston tilted his head, "Opportunities?"
"To be noticed on the surrounding people..."
The boy's smile remained pleasant but his eyes did not, "After all, getting the attention is quite expensive here."
After that, he stepped away, leaving Baston to question himself the meaning behind those words. Meanwhile, Panto's expression darkened slightly.
"They're already calculating your future value," he muttered, "From the partnership, acquisition, marriage alliance, or sponsorship. You've already entered the board without realizing it."
Baston gave a faint hum since he had already entered the board the moment the ice bead appeared. He felt many eyes lingered toward him even after the group dispersed.
The predators did not always wait outside the gates. Sometimes, they wore silk.
*****
The auction hall itself was grander still.
Many rows of tiered seating curved toward the central stage, the decorative sigils glowed faintly along the walls, and several private compartments lined the upper levels.
Rembrant had secured the business-class seats. It was comfortable and respectable even though it was not the best one.
Above and behind the latticed partitions, the VIP rooms overlooked the stage. From there, the true power watched the unseen. Inside one such compartment, several noblewomen conversed quietly.
"The ice bead will appear tonight," one said.
"The funds have been already prepared," another replied, tapping a sleek enchanted card, "No one can outbid us."
"Do not underestimate other families," a third cautioned, "The past news surely would attract more competition."
They nodded since the ice bead was not merely a decorative. It was the leverage regarding control over the rare elemental resonance. For them, it meant the political gifting potential and the symbolic dominance. By then, the leader asked quietly.
"Have we confirmed the supplier?"
"Yes... It's a boy named Baston. Currently, he attends at Prius Academy. The ice bead though was reportedly a gift from Zeverius Academy."
The silence fell, wondering whether the boy knew the scarcity of such precious item. With the so-called gift, he could advance further in his magic power.
"He dares to sell such gift?"
One of the noblewomen leaned closer to the partition screen, "Zeverius Academy should not give such gift without purpose."
Everyone wondered the true reason why Baston dared to sell the gift blatantly despite the kindness that was given to him from Zeverius Academy.
"Monitor him beyond tonight. A student who values the liquidity over favor might either be ambitious or reckless."
"What if he is ambitious?"
"Then he will be useful to us…"
*****
Unaware of the conversation, Baston sat still below the VIP area. The old book rested hidden within his inner coat. It felt heavier tonight but he did not know why.
The hall gradually filled and the murmurs blended into a controlled hum. The stage lights soon brightened and the auctioneer stepped forward. In this so-called auction, a battlefield would soon occur.
Each bidding was going to determine whether they would become the winner or loser tonight.
A servant walked along the aisle, placing small crystal plates on the edge of each row. When it was activated, they would glow faintly to signal an official bid. There was no need for shouting here.
After all, the wealth did not need to raise its voice.
Baston observed how some guests adjusted their gloves before touching those crystals as if they were preparing for the combat.
Several rings that were embedded with family crests flashed under the chandelier light. A few assistants leaned close to whisper the last-minute instructions to their masters. The numbers were being calculated silently even before the first item was introduced.
From the upper level, one of the latticed partitions shifted slightly. A thin sliver of light escaped before being closed again.
The air grew dense. Even the casual conversations faded into low murmurs and the chairs creaked softly as their bodies straightened. The earlier social warmth had evaporated, replaced by the sharp anticipation.
The auctioneer's gaze swept across the hall once more. His smile returned and it was slower this time with measured confident.
And in that suspended moment before he formally greeted everyone, the entire venue felt like a drawn bowstring that were waiting to be released.