Chapter 15

The early morning light streamed down on the grand, ornate building that stood before me, casting long shadows across its intricately carved facade. This was it—the auction house I'd heard whispers about, a place where the rich and powerful discreetly traded their treasures, their secrets, and their ambitions. The building itself was a work of art, all marble columns and fine detailing that spoke of money and status. It was intimidating, but I was no stranger to making bold moves in the face of power.

I straightened my jacket, pulling at the rich fabric with a sense of satisfaction. It had taken considerable effort to repair these garments, but now I looked every inch the part of a wealthy young man from the upper levels. Appearances were everything here. If you looked the part, you were the part—at least, for as long as you could keep up the illusion. Today, that illusion was critical.

Taking a deep breath, I adjusted the collar of my tunic and stepped forward, feeling the weight of expectation settle on my shoulders. As I approached the grand entrance, the guards—tall, armored, and sharp-eyed—nodded their heads in a respectful bow. Their acknowledgment made me feel like I'd already crossed some invisible threshold. With a faint smile, I moved past them, the heavy wooden doors swinging open to reveal the world inside.

I was immediately greeted by an elegant woman standing in the entrance hall. Her posture was perfect, and her flowing dress, made from a fabric I could only describe as "rich," seemed to shimmer slightly as she moved. Her eyes, however, caught my attention. They were sharp, calculating—far older than the youthful face that accompanied them. Ah, so it wasn't just rumor then. People in this world could manipulate their age, just as I had unknowingly done with my body. She looked at me with an appraising smile, her lips curving in a way that made me wonder just how many secrets she kept behind that polished exterior.

"Welcome, sir," she said, her voice smooth and practiced. "You must be here for the auction?"

I nodded, playing my role. "Yes, I'm here to sell some items. I've heard this is the best place for... discretion."

Her smile widened slightly, a gleam in her eyes as she looked me over, clearly sizing me up. "Indeed. We all fall on hard times, don't we?" she said, her tone light and conversational, but there was an undercurrent there—something knowing. She was testing me.

I gave a polite nod, as if accepting the subtle insinuation that I was just another wealthy man needing a bit of capital. "Something like that," I replied, keeping my voice even.

"Of course, sir. Right this way," she said, turning with a graceful gesture. I followed her down the hall, which was adorned with exquisite tapestries and glowing lanterns that cast a soft, warm light on everything. The air smelled faintly of incense and something else—something luxurious, like the scent of money itself.

We passed several rooms with gilded doors before she stopped at one. She opened it to reveal a lavish space, where the soft notes of a Roman lyre drifted through the air. A young woman in the corner was gently plucking the strings, creating a peaceful atmosphere. Food and drink had been laid out on a low table—grapes, cheeses, and some kind of delicate pastries. It was clear this place catered to the elite, and everything about it was designed to put one at ease.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," the woman said as she led me to the center of the room. "I'll introduce you to our appraiser."

Sitting at a long, stone table covered in runes was an older man, his face lined with years of experience. He looked up as we approached, his eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. In front of him was a board—stone, yes, but it was alive with glowing runes, shifting and pulsing like they were speaking their own language. I couldn't help but lean forward slightly, trying to catch glimpses of the symbols, memorizing the ones I hadn't seen before.

"Ah, welcome," the man said, his voice deep and gravely, as if it had seen many late nights and many more secrets. "I understand you have some items for appraisal?"

"Yes," I said, keeping my voice measured, playing the part of a calm, wealthy individual. "A few pieces I'd like to sell. I trust you'll find them... of interest."

The woman smiled again, her hand gesturing to a velvet-draped table off to the side. "You may present them here, and our appraiser will handle the rest."

I walked to the table, taking out the first item—a finely crafted inventory bag, modeled after the ones I'd seen in the upper levels, but with my own twist. As I placed it down, I saw the appraiser's eyebrow raise slightly. Good. That's a reaction I can work with.

I stood there, feeling the weight of the moment as I began to pull out the first of my items. The woman's sharp eyes followed my movements with interest, though there was something more lurking behind that carefully maintained mask of politeness. When I placed the first bag on the velvet-draped table, I noticed her subtle shift in posture—she was intrigued. The bag, sleek and small, was enchanted with storage runes, a luxury for most. The slight curve of her lips was all the confirmation I needed. She liked it.

The appraiser, however, wasn't one to show emotion so easily. His fingers moved methodically over the stone board, runes lighting up in a soft glow. When he finally touched the bag, his eyebrows lifted just enough to show he was impressed. "A fine piece," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. That was a good sign. I watched as he examined the intricacies of the rune work, the flow of the magic within, and nodded to himself as if confirming something.

Feeling a bit more confident, I placed the next few bags onto the table, each one designed with variations on the storage runes, slightly different but no less potent. As I did so, I caught the lady's eyes again. This time, there was a trace of hesitation in her expression. She leaned in a little closer, her voice lowered, as if not wanting to alarm me. "Are you sure you want to part with all of these? They're... exceptional."

I gave her a reassuring smile, waving it off with a casual air. "It'll be fine. I've got more ideas in the works."

She gave me a small nod, though I could tell she still wasn't entirely convinced. Good. Let her wonder about the value of what I was selling. It only added to the mystique.

And then came the armor.

I placed the scaled armor on the table with deliberate care, and the appraiser's reaction was immediate. His previously neutral expression faltered for just a second, his eyes widening as he moved toward the set, almost reverently. He hovered over it like a priest before an altar, hands moving slowly over the surface. He took his time, fingers gliding over the barely visible runes that lined the scales. The armor pulsed faintly with magic—subtle, yet powerful.

"Remarkable," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "This... this will grace the floor of the auction house as one of the finest pieces I've seen in quite some time."

The woman's eyes flicked from the appraiser to me, clearly startled by his reaction. Her composed demeanor slipped for just a moment, a glimmer of genuine surprise flashing across her face. "You've outdone yourself," she said softly, her tone now layered with a new level of respect. "This isn't just any piece of armor. You're certain you wish to part with it?"

I gave a nonchalant shrug, though inside I was enjoying their reactions more than I'd care to admit. "I think it's time someone else gets to benefit from it."

The appraiser's hands hovered over the armor for a moment longer before he finally stepped back, his expression reverent. "This will fetch quite a price, no doubt. It's an honor to appraise such craftsmanship." He cleared his throat, regaining some of his professionalism. "We will place it in the prime auction slot later today."

The woman, regaining her own composure, smiled again, though this time it was softer, more genuine. "We would be honored to have you stay for the auction. I think you'll enjoy seeing the results of your... generosity."

For a moment, I considered leaving, but curiosity got the better of me. Watching the elite of this world bid on my items was an opportunity too tempting to pass up. "I think I'll stay," I replied with a smile, playing the part of the calm, collected craftsman who knew exactly what he was worth.

The woman gestured toward the lavish seating area where food and drink were still laid out, and I took a seat, letting the atmosphere of the place settle around me. The soft music from the corner continued, a peaceful hum that seemed out of place for the intensity of the business being conducted. Yet, it was a subtle reminder that wealth could afford comfort, even in the midst of high-stakes negotiation.

As I sat, I allowed myself a moment of reflection. This was a far cry from where I had started—both in this world and the one I had left behind. On Earth, I had been a psychologist, analyzing the minds of others, dissecting relationships, power dynamics, and status games. Now I was here, no longer just an observer but an active player. The theories I used to talk about in my podcast—the ones about how the top percentage of men controlled the attention, the resources, the status—were now something I was experiencing firsthand.

I glanced at the elegant woman who had welcomed me earlier. Her smile had changed, hadn't it? It was no longer merely polite. It was interested. In this world, where appearance and wealth were everything, I was beginning to see the dynamics at play. Women are drawn to the powerful, the successful—the top percentage. And for once, I wasn't just talking about it. I was living it.

The thought gave me an odd sense of satisfaction. Not in a superficial way, but in the knowledge that I could navigate these waters better than most. The power of perception was on my side, and I intended to use it.

As I sat waiting for the auction to begin, I found myself thinking more and more about how far I could take this. I had the skills, the knowledge, and now, the appearance of wealth. But if I wanted to secure my position in this world, I needed more than just a few enchanted bags and a piece of armor. I needed influence. I needed connections. And what better place to start than here, at the heart of the city's elite?

I must have spent about an hour listening to the soft melody of the music, my fingers idly picking at the delicate appetizers laid before me. The auction house certainly knew how to indulge its guests, and I was playing the part of the affluent young man perfectly. The elegant atmosphere around me made it easy to blend in, though inside, I was still calculating my next move.

Just as I was starting to feel the slow tug of impatience, the poised woman returned. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of businesslike efficiency and something sharper, perhaps curiosity. "It's time," she said with a smooth, polished tone, gesturing for me to follow her.

She led me through a series of hallways that twisted and turned like a labyrinth until we arrived at a secluded observation room. The entrance was discreet, blending seamlessly into the grand design of the building, and as I stepped inside, I immediately noticed the magical wall—an invisible barrier that allowed me to see out into the larger theater while keeping me completely hidden from view.

Ah, so this was how the elite avoided the prying eyes of the common folk. Discretion, indeed.

The theater stretched before me, grand and opulent, with a wide stage at the center and tiered seating arranged in semi-circles around it. There were other private observation rooms as well, placed strategically above the floor, where those with enough money or influence could enjoy the spectacle without mingling with the masses below. I spotted a few silhouettes behind the magical veils in the rooms across from me, and I couldn't help but wonder who they were. Power, in this world, was as invisible as it was palpable.

On the stage, a man—elegant in his black velvet coat, with slicked-back hair and a demeanor that screamed 'smooth operator'—was preparing to begin the auction. He moved with an almost predatory grace, clearly a master of his craft. As the lights dimmed slightly, signaling the beginning of the event, he stepped forward and raised his hands in a gesture of practiced grandeur.

"Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests of the house, welcome to the evening's auction! As always, we have the rarest and most exquisite items from across the lands to offer you tonight. Artifacts of power, wonders of magic, and..." his voice dropped to a lower, almost sultry note, "a few very special surprises."

I leaned forward, my interest piqued, wondering what exactly passed for 'special surprises' in this world.

The first item was brought out—a small, delicate box of polished obsidian, carried on a velvet pillow by a woman dressed in flowing, silver robes. She moved like a dancer, her steps deliberate, her head held high. The auctioneer smiled, turning toward the crowd. "Our first item, ladies and gentlemen, is a Memory Box. Crafted by the legendary Runeweaver of the North, it allows the user to store a memory—any memory—and relive it at will. A precious gift for those who wish to hold onto their most cherished moments... or forget them, should they desire."

I watched as the bids flew in, one after another, the prices climbing faster than I expected. The item was certainly impressive, but it was the fervor with which people bid that surprised me. Clearly, this was a world where emotional control—whether over your own memories or someone else's—was considered a valuable asset. The Memory Box sold for a small fortune.

Next came a set of crystal spheres, glowing faintly with a soft blue light. The auctioneer's voice took on a more scholarly tone as he explained. "Ah, the Elemental Orbs. These fine artifacts allow their wielder to control the four basic elements—fire, water, earth, and air—for a limited time. Each orb holds the essence of its respective element and can be used in combat, construction, or... perhaps a little mischief." He chuckled darkly, clearly amused by the prospect.

The bids again escalated quickly, and soon the Orbs were whisked away to the highest bidder, leaving me contemplating their potential. Control over the elements? Useful, no doubt, but such magic felt flashy, too overt for my tastes. The runes I worked with were more subtle, more refined. Power hidden beneath the surface.

As the auction continued, more items of curious origin were brought forth—everything from enchanted jewelry that could alter one's appearance to weapons that glowed with ominous energy. Each piece was presented with care, the women on stage moving gracefully with their burdens, their expressions carefully blank.

And then the auction took a darker turn.

From the shadows, a new group of women were brought onto the stage, bound in delicate chains, their faces cloaked in veils of fine silk. They stood quietly, their postures stiff, but not fearful—trained, I realized, to remain impassive. The auctioneer's voice lowered, taking on a more sinister edge. "And now, for those of you with... more refined tastes, we present a selection of the finest companions—elegant, educated, and skilled in many arts. They are here to serve, and their loyalty is guaranteed by the strongest magical contracts."

My stomach churned as I watched the bids rise. The polished way he spoke, the ease with which the crowd engaged, left a sour taste in my mouth. I shouldn't have been surprised, given the world I was in, but somehow I had managed to avoid seeing this particular ugliness until now.

Slaves.

I had seen enough to know that power dynamics were different here, harsher, more direct than on Earth. But watching these women being sold as objects, no different than the enchanted bags I had just presented—it struck a chord in me that I hadn't expected. My mind flashed back to my podcast days, talking about power structures and control, about how those at the top wielded their influence over those beneath them. But this... this was power taken to its extreme, stripped of any pretense of civility.

The bidding was aggressive, the prices even higher than for some of the magical artifacts that had been auctioned earlier. It was clear that these women were valuable, not just for their beauty but for whatever magical properties they had been trained—or forced—to cultivate.

I leaned back in my seat, my mind racing. This world is a minefield of control and dominance, and if I'm going to survive here, I need to understand the depths of it. But there was a part of me—one that I hadn't yet fully acknowledged—that was repelled by it. Was this the kind of place I wanted to thrive in? Was this the kind of man I wanted to become?

Still, I couldn't afford to dwell on that now. I had chosen to participate in this system, and there was no turning back. I could play their game—hell, I was already playing it—but I needed to be smarter, more strategic. If I wanted real power here, I had to rise above this, navigate through the filth without getting stained by it.

The auction continued, and as I watched, I made a decision. I would use this system to my advantage, but I wouldn't let it consume me. There had to be a way to operate within this world without losing myself completely.

When the auctioneer finally announced the start of the bidding for my items, I snapped back to the present, pushing aside the darker thoughts that had clouded my mind. The first enchanted bag was presented, and the room buzzed with interest.

As the bids began rolling in, I felt a surge of satisfaction. The audience was clearly intrigued by the practicality and elegance of the bags, and the prices were climbing higher than I had anticipated. The armor, when it was finally brought to the stage, caused even more of a stir. The appraiser had been right—it was a masterpiece, and the crowd responded accordingly.

By the time the gavel came down, I had made more money in one night than I had thought possible. The woman who had first greeted me came to my side, offering me a congratulatory smile. "You've done quite well for yourself," she said, her voice warm with admiration. "If you ever have more items to sell, we would be honored to assist you again."

I returned her smile, though inside I was already planning my next move. This was just the beginning.

Leaving the auction house, the cool night air hit me like a wake-up call. The world outside felt different somehow, sharper, more dangerous.

The night air was unnervingly still as I made my way back to the lower levels of the city. Above, the stars flickered faintly, dots of cold light in a vast sky. The only real illumination around me came from the soft, steady glow of the magical stones embedded along the road. They bathed the streets in a ghostly light, casting long, flickering shadows that danced across the uneven walls of the buildings.

It was late—late enough that the usual bustle of the city had died down. I passed a few stragglers here and there, figures wrapped in cloaks, faces obscured by darkness, but none gave me more than a passing glance. My mind was still buzzing from the auction, the satisfaction of a successful sale and the promise of more to come. But beneath that buzz, a gnawing sense of unease had begun to creep in. The auction house was a den of power—true power. And power always came with a price.

As I descended deeper into the lower city, the streets became narrower, more twisted. The buildings huddled closer together, leaning over the cobblestone pathways like silent sentinels. The sound of my footsteps echoed, unnaturally loud in the quiet.

Then I saw it—the alley. It was a particularly dark stretch, tucked away between two crumbling buildings, a shortcut I'd used before when I wanted to avoid the more populated areas. Tonight, though, something about it felt... off. My instincts tingled, that subtle warning you only get when you're being watched.

I kept walking, my pace steady, but I was ready. I'd lived in this world long enough now to know that trust was a luxury. And when I heard the soft scrape of boots behind me, I wasn't surprised.

Five men stepped out from the shadows, surrounding me in a semi-circle. Each one of them was dressed in ragged cloaks, their faces hidden beneath the hoods. But their intent was clear enough. One of them, the leader I presumed, stepped forward with a sneer on his face. "Well, well. Look who we've got here," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "A rich man wandering the lower levels all alone? That's just begging for trouble."

I didn't respond. Talking wouldn't do much here, and frankly, I wasn't in the mood to negotiate. My eyes flicked around, quickly assessing the situation. They were armed, knives glinting faintly in the pale light, and they moved with the casual confidence of men who'd done this before.

Amateurs, I thought. But they don't know who they're dealing with.

Without warning, the leader lunged forward, his knife aimed directly for my stomach. I didn't flinch. As the blade made contact with my tunic, the rune-embedded fabric activated, the protective magic kicking in immediately. The blade skidded off as though it had hit solid steel, leaving me entirely unharmed. The man's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could react, I was already moving.

With a thought, I summoned my spear from the storage stone. It appeared in my hand with a satisfying hiss of displaced air, the weapon thrumming with latent power. The leader barely had time to register what had happened before I thrust the spear forward, its tip crackling with energy. His knife clattered to the ground as he staggered back, clutching his chest where I'd grazed him.

"You picked the wrong target," I said, my voice dangerously low.

One of the others charged at me from the side, hoping to catch me off guard. A rookie move. I sidestepped his clumsy swing, bringing the butt of my spear down hard on his wrist. The crack of bone breaking echoed through the alley as he screamed, dropping his weapon. With a quick motion, I slammed the spear's shaft into his side, sending him sprawling to the ground.

But it was the fire they weren't ready for.

I felt the heat build in my chest as I called forth the rune-imbued magic from the spear. My fingers tightened around the shaft, and with a sharp mental command, I sent a blazing ball of fire hurtling toward the remaining three attackers. The fireball roared to life, a searing orb of white-hot flame that illuminated the alley like a miniature sun. Their eyes widened in terror, too slow to react as the ball of fire slammed into the first man. His screams were brief as the flames consumed him, his body reduced to nothing more than ash in seconds.

I could feel the magic coursing through me, guiding the fireball with precision as I twisted it in mid-air. The heat was intoxicating, and I directed the ball toward the next man, who was already backing away in panic. He barely managed a shout before the fire engulfed him, leaving nothing but scorched remains in its wake.

The last man tried to run, but I wasn't done. I sent the fireball streaking after him, closing the distance in an instant. The heat hit him first, and then the flames swallowed him whole. His form flickered in the firelight for a moment before disintegrating entirely.

The alley was eerily silent. The only sound was the crackling of dying embers, the air thick with the smell of burnt flesh and charred stone. I stood there for a moment, the spear still in my hand, its tip glowing faintly with residual magic. The weight of what had just happened settled in, but I didn't feel guilt. I felt... relief. The attackers had gotten what they deserved. They had tried to take my life, my gold—now they were nothing but ash.

But they knew. That realization hit me harder than I expected. Someone knew I was carrying a significant amount of money from the auction house.

This hadn't been a random mugging. It was too coordinated, too deliberate. Word had traveled fast, too fast. Someone had their eye on me, and that was a problem. I needed to be more careful, more aware. The world I was navigating was dangerous, but I'd known that from the start.

I took a deep breath, the adrenaline slowly draining from my system as I summoned the storage stone again. The spear disappeared into the void, and I quickly checked my surroundings, ensuring there were no more surprises lurking in the shadows. Satisfied, I began moving again, quicker this time. The alley seemed darker, more menacing now, but I wasn't about to let fear get the better of me. Not tonight.

The rest of the walk home was uneventful, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just crossed a line—one I couldn't uncross. Killing wasn't something I enjoyed, but in this world, it was a necessity. You had to be ruthless to survive, especially when power was at stake.

When I finally reached the safety of my shop, I exhaled a long, slow breath. I could still feel the remnants of magic humming under my skin, the fire's warmth lingering even after the battle. The protective runes on my clothing had held, proving their worth once again. But this was a reminder—a brutal one—that my skills weren't just for show. They were my lifeline.

I collapsed into bed, not bothering to undress. The familiar weight of my exhaustion settled over me as my head hit the pillow. The events of the night replayed in my mind, but there was no room for regret. I'd done what I had to do. And now, more than ever, I was thankful for my runes. They had saved my life tonight, just as they had before.

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was deep and dreamless. I would deal with the implications tomorrow, but for now, I was just thankful to be alive. This world wasn't going to hand me anything. If I wanted power, I had to be willing to take it.