CH: 193: The Price of Entry

{Chapter: 193: The Price of Entry}

He turned his gaze toward the structure at the center of the plaza—the so-called auction house.

It was large, certainly, but nowhere near large enough to contain this many attendees.

"How in the world is all of this supposed to fit in there?" he muttered, tilting his head in disbelief.

His brain immediately began spinning through possibilities. Was there some kind of external bidding system? Maybe people could place their bids outside via messenger golems or enchanted slips?

Or maybe—just maybe—they were using spatial magic to expand the internal dimensions?

That last one actually sounded plausible.

Driven by curiosity, Dex began weaving his way through the throng of people, elbows raised to protect his ribs from errant nudges and stomps. The sea of bodies made movement slow, but eventually he got close enough to observe the system more clearly.

It turned out the auction operated on two tiers: off-site spectators and on-site participants.

The majority—hundreds of thousands of people—were just here to watch. Massive, floating magical screens shimmered in the sky, displaying real-time footage from within the auction house. These screens allowed the masses to experience the auction without physically being inside. Most had simply come for the spectacle, or perhaps to catch a glimpse of the legendary treasures said to be on sale.

This system also explained the overwhelming number of food stalls and merchant booths scattered around. Vendors had clearly anticipated this surge of idle onlookers and were capitalizing on it with all their might.

But true participation? That was a luxury reserved for a mere 5,000 people.

Of those, a fraction were pre-selected invitees representing powerful factions or noble houses. The rest? They had to bid for their tickets.

Yes—before you could even place a bid on an item, you had to win the right to enter the building.

Dozens of ticket booths lined the perimeter of the square, each one shouting out prices and processing bids like well-oiled machines. Ticket numbers were drawn randomly, and the starting price for each one varied depending on the time of day and demand.

It was, in essence, a paywall before the paywall.

Even Dex had to admit—it was a brilliant way to generate revenue.

It also served another purpose: it filtered out the riffraff. If someone wasn't willing to invest a little coin just to enter, they likely weren't serious enough to drive up the prices on the real goods inside. The organizers knew exactly what they were doing.

Besides, the fact that this auction house hadn't been burned to the ground or overthrown for its audacity only meant one thing—the goods inside were worth it.

This place had clout, resources, and probably more than a few silent guardians watching from the shadows.

Dex didn't hesitate. With the same casual confidence he used to decide which disease to unleash on which continent, he strolled toward the nearest ticket booth, a thin smile playing across his lips.

It was time to get in.

"The starting price for Ticket No. 1147 is 200 gold coins! The bidding begins!"

As the auctioneer lady stepped onto the elevated platform, the crowd's attention naturally shifted toward her. She was clad in a uniform that, though official in design, left very little to the imagination. The tightly tailored jacket clung to her curves like a second skin, with a deep, plunging neckline that boldly showcased her ample cleavage. The short skirt hugged her hips provocatively, barely reaching mid-thigh, while sheer stockings and stiletto heels added an air of both sophistication and seduction. She radiated a professional allure wrapped in raw temptation.

With a charming smile and a sultry voice that carried through the murmuring crowd, she concluded her opening remarks. Her words were polished, yet delivered with a flirtatious cadence that kept the audience enthralled.

Then the real event began.

"220 gold coins!" someone shouted.

"230 gold coins!"

"235 gold coins…"

The bidding started slowly, climbing in small increments. The voices in the crowd were uneven, half-hearted—like people too timid to commit but too curious to walk away.

Dex, watching from the sidelines with an expression of mild disinterest, rubbed his ear lazily, clearly unimpressed by the pitiful jumps in price. This kind of slow, drawn-out competition bored him. After all, he didn't come here to haggle over pocket change.

With a casual wave of his hand, he raised his arm and stated, "1,000 gold coins."

The words were spoken plainly—no dramatic shout, no attempt to draw attention. Yet the result was immediate.

Silence fell like a heavy curtain.

The previous bidders choked on their next offers. Conversations around the area froze mid-sentence. The auction floor fell into complete stillness, as if time itself had paused to process what they'd just heard.

Even the auction house employees, used to bold guests and eccentric buyers, were visibly shaken.

The young lady overseeing the current bid stared at Dex with wide eyes, her confidence briefly faltering. She licked her cherry-red lips and slowly leaned forward, her voice laced with disbelief and reverence.

"S-Sir… did you say 1,000 gold coins?"

Her tone was a mix of uncertainty and stunned respect. No one would joke with such a number. She needed confirmation, just to be sure she hadn't imagined it.

One had to understand: an auction entry ticket normally peaked at 300 gold coins—and that was already considered excessive. With 300 gold coins, one could afford a decent house in this very city. For many middle-class citizens, it represented their entire life savings. Even many noble families would hesitate before burning such a sum on just a ticket.

Dex, unmoved by the collective shock, casually pulled out a radiant gemstone from his pouch and tossed it to her like tossing a coin to a street performer.

"Name your price for that," he said, his tone indifferent.

The gemstone landed softly in her outstretched hands. Light shimmered off the flawless facets of the gem—clear as ice, heavy as truth.

She blinked, then lowered her head and examined it with practiced eyes. Her breath hitched.

There was no mistaking it.

A genuine Merled Crystal, near perfect in clarity and cut.

Realizing its immense value, she instinctively clutched it to her chest and whispered, "P-please wait a moment, sir. I will fetch someone for a formal appraisal."

Without waiting for permission, she scurried down the steps, heels clicking urgently against the stone floor. Dex didn't bother stopping her. He simply crossed his arms and glanced back toward the stunned crowd, amused by their expressions.

Moments later, she returned—this time with an elderly man dressed in elegant robes that marked him as a professional appraiser. The man had sharp eyes beneath his snowy white eyebrows, and a demeanor that spoke of decades of experience. He held the crystal carefully in his gloved hands and examined it under the light with a small lens.

After a few tense seconds, he looked up at Dex and bowed slightly.

"Sir, your Merled Crystal is of exceptional purity and craftsmanship. At current market rates, it's valued at approximately 1,700 gold coins. If you're offering it in exchange for entry, we can certainly accept it and return the difference in gold."

Dex nodded once, casually.

"I'm fine with that price," he replied without emotion. Then, without missing a beat, he turned toward the hushed crowd and declared, "I'm bidding 1,700 gold coins. Anyone else want to try me?"

The air practically vibrated from the silence that followed.

Even the appraiser, a man who had seen nobles, merchants, and warlords, blinked and took a step back.

A noble might hesitate to pay 300 gold coins for a ticket. Dex had just burned 1,700 without a trace of regret. Not only that—he didn't even ask for change.

To him, this wasn't spending money. This was throwing away dust.

It was wealth so overwhelming that it rewrote the rules of logic for everyone watching.

People nearby began whispering.

"Who is he?"

"Is he a prince?"

"No… even a prince would hesitate before doing something like that…"

"That's not just wealth. That's insanity."

The murmurings continued as the auction staff, regaining their senses, processed his application and handed him a golden ticket engraved with runes of authenticity.

Dex now held one of only 5,000 precious entries to the on-site auction.

As the crowd respectfully parted for him, the sultry auction hostess returned to his side and gestured toward the entrance. Her eyes sparkled with admiration, and her smile deepened with a touch more sincerity than before.

"Please follow me, sir. The auction awaits."

As Dex strode past the stunned onlookers, his casual gait and calm expression sent a clear message: to him, this was nothing more than a minor errand.

And to everyone else watching, one thing was now painfully clear.

They had just witnessed what it meant to be a true prodigal son. A man who treated gold like sand, and attention like air—barely noticed, never needed.

Dex didn't just buy a ticket.

He bought the entire room's attention—and crushed it with a smirk.