The atmosphere in the Auction of Kings thickened as Ochieng's bold $10 billion bid sent shockwaves through the room.
Across the hall, the Phantom leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. He looked amused, not threatened.
"$15 billion," the Phantom said lazily, raising his hand.
The crowd murmured. Two ghosts of the financial underworld were clashing in real-time.
Ochieng met his gaze, unfazed. "$20 billion."
Syvoria whispered, "Are you sure about this?"
He chuckled. "It's not about the money. It's about who's in control."
The Phantom tilted his head, his fingers drumming against the table. Then, with a slight grin, he raised his hand again.
"$30 billion."
A stunned silence filled the room.
Even the most ruthless tycoons hesitated to challenge that number.
The auctioneer hesitated. "$30 billion going once…"
Ochieng didn't blink.
"$50 billion."
The entire auction erupted into chaos.
Gasps. Laughter. Panic.
The Phantom's eyes gleamed with something new—respect? Amusement? Maybe both.
He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. Then, for the first time… he lowered his hand.
Silence.
"Sold! To Ochieng."
A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the room.
The Phantom grinned. "Impressive."
Ochieng smirked. "I don't play to impress."
The Phantom chuckled, standing up. "Then I suppose you won't mind if we raise the stakes."
He snapped his fingers.
Suddenly, the lights flickered. The auctioneer stepped back. The guards locked the exits.
The Phantom turned to Ochieng, eyes glinting. "Shall we test your luck in a different game?"