Auction ! (Filler Story)

The crimson glow of the first item faded as the auctioneer clapped her hands once—elegant and sharp.

"Well done," she purred, her voice rolling like polished silk. "And now, let us cool the flame with something drawn from the deepest springs of ancient blue."

From beneath the stage, a new orb began to rise—this one bathed in radiant, aquatic light. Inside floated a deep bluish crystal, softly pulsing like a heartbeat. Liquid motes of water circled its core like miniature comets.

The audience leaned forward.

The auctioneer gestured with her golden staff. "Item No. 2 – Absal Water Core, found off the ruins of Lake Lorhel. Tier: Bluish Rank. Capable of amplifying water-element Whisps beyond their stage threshold, and purifying corrupted cores. An item worthy of crowns."

Jimmy's interest flickered instantly. His hand hovered near the bidding device—an elegant, black panel built into the table's edge.

He waited.

The auctioneer raised her voice again."Starting bid: 200 million T-Coins. Minimum increment: 50 million."

A light blinked on above Room 15."200 million," she announced.

A second light. Room 2."350 million."

Another. Room 5."500 million."

Room 1 followed sharply."550 million."

Then from the darker side lounge, the symbol of Room 13 flared."650 million," the host called, her eyes scanning the crowd.

She paused. "Does anyone wish to go higher?"

Her voice echoed like a challenge.

The crowd buzzed in hushed whispers.

"650 million, once…"

Jimmy, still and unreadable behind his blindfold, reached forward. With a single, silent press of the interface on his table, he typed:

Room 21 – 900 million T-Coins.

A soft chime rang across the ballroom.

The auctioneer blinked—surprised, but composed.

"Room 21… has offered 900 million."

The bidding room stilled like a held breath.

No one countered.

"900 million, once.""900 million, twice."She smiled faintly. "And... sold."

Applause rippled through the chamber, some slow and sceptical.

Inside the Arcana-marked lounge, one masked figure turned toward Jimmy's private suite, murmuring something to another seated beside him.

From the host platform, the glowing orb containing the Abyssal Water Core sank slowly back below the stage—now marked and secured under Room 21's account.

.............................

The Auction Continued…

The host—no, the auctioneer—was a woman of striking grace, draped in a gleaming obsidian gown that shimmered like a moonlit river. Her voice, sharp as frost and smooth as wine, echoed across the golden walls of the chamber.

"Next," she said, with a small flourish of her hand, "is an ornamental artifact of rare application—particularly for those who commune with Ghost-type Whisps."

The platform shimmered, and a flower-shaped object rose from beneath, encased in a transparent shield.

"It is the Paramita Bloom—a spectral flowerpot shaped from Silvervine Stone, known to grow harmony-enhancing spores that tame restless Ghost Whisps. A rare piece—delicate and ethereal."

A gentle lavender glow emanated from the flower as spectral petals unfolded like hands in prayer.

"Starting bid: 500 million T-Coins."

Some gasps. A few laughs.

Most of them came from outside the private suites—guests who believed such items were frivolous. A few of them chuckled aloud.

"A pot for ghosts? What's next, a bed for illusions?"

"Who needs that unless they live with the dead?"

Jimmy, seated in Suite 21, remained still.

He read the item's description through his silent bidding terminal. Beautiful… but not useful. He had no Ghost Whisps. 

"Don't need that." 

Jimmy nodded and didn't bid.

The flower artifact was sold quickly for 600 million to Suite 8—someone who clearly knew what it was worth.

Then the lights flickered again.

The next pedestal rose.

"The Egg of Rai-shun—a bird-type Whisp confirmed to have Emperor potential. Lightning element. Wild lineage. Unhatched."

A radiant egg floated inside an arc of thunder-shaped glass, glowing faintly with veins of blue and silver.

"Starting bid: 400 million."

"450!"

"500!"

"600!"

"700!"

"850!"

The number skyrocketed in seconds.

Jimmy watched. Eyes still hidden. He typed nothing.

"Sold for 950 million to Suite 11."

The lightning faded.

..........................

The auctioneer allowed a beat of silence before speaking.

"This," she said, her voice wrapped in curiosity, "is for those who favour precision over prophecy."

Another soft murmur swept through the room.

"A full-grade Mechanical Whisp," she continued. "Engineered by the W-Tech Institute of Caldera City—renowned across the northern continent for their Codex-integrated automation research. Model designation: ARC-17."

From the centre of the pedestal, a sleek, quadrupedal figure slowly hovered into view. Its metallic hide shimmered in shades of gunmetal and graphite, segmented like living armour. Faint red lights pulsed through the gaps—like artificial veins.

Its head moved with eerie smoothness, scanning the room with a soft mechanical whirr.

Not alive, not dead.

"Capable of independent battle routines, domestic operations, surveillance support, and basic Whisp mimicry functions. Compatible with most civilian Codex systems. Adjustable command matrix. Comes with default obedience protocols and personality framework 4.2. Can serve as a home assistant, property guardian, or utility unit for remote operations."

In Jimmy's suite, his gaze locked on the machine with silent interest.

He knew of these. Mechanical Whisps.

They weren't true Whisps—not born of bond or soul—but built from the remnants of Whisp energy and engineered cores.

A fusion of humanity's hunger for control and Whisps' instinct for survival.

Advantages? No loyalty shifts. No need for rest. No emotional damage. Full obedience—programmed and precise.

Disadvantages? They couldn't evolve. Couldn't form true resonance with a Whisp Master. They operated on instruction, not instinct. A puppet with armour and teeth.

"Starting bid: 750 million."

Jimmy leaned forward. He checked its specs: high-speed movement, shield generator, basic weapon system, and the ability to self-repair using energy cores.

: "Not bad," 

Jimmy typed: 800M

Suite 14 responded: 850M

Suite 9: 900M

He waited.

Then: 1,000M

The screen blinked.

No response.

"Sold! Suite 21."

Jimmy leaned back slightly. The hum of energy from the bidding device thrummed softly under his hand.

Jimmy is happy

.....................

Another pedestal rose from the golden-lit platform, carried by levitating rings of glass.

The auctioneer's voice turned measured, almost clinical.

"Neural Acceleration Solution," she announced. "An ultra-rare serum. Only usable by certified B-Level Whisp Masters or above."

A hush passed through the room.

She continued, "Enhances reaction speed, sensory clarity, and tactical memory. One single dose. Carefully regulated and restricted by three continental authorities. Also Boost for Mind's garden space opening."

A flickering vial hovered at the pedestal's centre—liquid silver inside, shimmering like liquid thought.

"Starting bid: 400 million T-Coins."

The silence stretched.

Because in a room full of mostly SC, D, and lower-ranked Masters, B-Class was a luxury tier—earned by blood, legacy, or genius. Only a handful might even be eligible to use the solution. Some eyes turned to Suite 1, where a renowned general from the Western Federation was rumoured to sit.

A blink later:

Suite 1: 400 million.

Suite 1: 450 million.

Suite 1: 500 million.

Sold. No one dared contest.

In Suite 21, Jimmy sat still.

He hadn't moved a finger during the bidding. Only his thoughts stirred.

.............................

Then the auctioneer stepped forward, her voice rising with carefully measured excitement.

"And now… the final item of the night. The one we've all been waiting for."

A hush fell over the room, tension wrapping around the chamber like a coiled serpent. Even the sound of glasses settling or whispers quieted. All eyes turned to the stage.

The platform at the centre began to glow—runes circling the base, casting reflections across the ceiling like liquid fire. From beneath, something began to rise slowly. It was not just the item, but the very air around it that seemed to shift.

...................................

It was strange. When he'd arrived on the third floor earlier that evening, something had tugged at his senses. Something real. But now?

Just emptiness. 

Jimmy felt it's not what he came for.... he has to search again.