Auction House (2)
Auction House (2)
"The bidding process will proceed the same as it has every year, but since we have a first-time attendee, I'll briefly—"
"Not necessary."
Claire's voice resonated through the lounge.
The man's hands shook even harder.
"Ah... understood. In that case, we will proceed directly."
Yet the man never lost his smile.
A man of iron professionalism.
The auctioneer stepped aside to a corner of the stage, and shortly after, a well-dressed boy walked up onto the platform.
"Age ten. The child was entrusted to an orphanage after stabbing his abusive father in his sleep..."
The man methodically laid out the boy's age, the circumstances that had landed him in the orphanage, and the story of how he had been identified as a promising Awakened prospect and brought here.
Once the full introduction was finished.
"The opening bid is 1500."
The man finished speaking. Now, all the attendees here had to do was call out their bids. No one opened their mouth.
Claire observed the stage with an expressionless face, leaning slightly toward me.
"Are you interested?"
"No."
Then it happened.
-1600
"Yes, we have 1600."
-1700
-1800
-1850
The bidding had begun.
Simply raising a hand and calling out a price. A typical scene, no different from any standard auction house. But this place, this underground auction, had one special rule.
The Awakened with the greatest personal or factional military power present at the auction could select any single item and purchase it at its opening price.
I don't know the reason the rule was created. But I clearly remember that not once, in all the time this underground auction has been held, has this rule ever been broken.
Which was why the others hadn't dared open their mouths even after the bidding had started.
"2200. Any further bids? 2200. 2200. 2200. Very well. Prospect number 1 is sold for 2200."
Led by the hand of another staff member who had come up, the child was guided back down off the stage.
After the auction concluded, the child would be sent off to the winning bidder, along with all requisite paperwork.
After the boy descended, a girl with matted hair and an emaciated frame took his place on stage, clad in a thin, unseasonal scrap of cloth.
"The opening bid is 300."
Unlike the boy, the bidding started immediately, without any particular introduction.
-310
-330
Two people jumped into the bidding without even bothering to gauge Claire's reaction.
They had concluded that Claire—and by extension, I—could not possibly have any interest in a girl who had been brought on stage not as a prospect, but as an experiment subject.
I looked at the child trembling on the stage and called the name of the woman standing beside me.
"Claire."
"Yes."
The lounge fell silent again.
I ignored it and continued.
"What are you thinking right now?"
"I was thinking that this is boring."
"Is that so."
"Yes."
That was the end of our exchange.
The auctioneer glanced around cautiously for a moment, then resumed the auction.
The grubby little girl was sold for 400 and led off the stage, followed by a continuous stream of children brought up and bid on.
Children with special stories, like the first boy, were dressed up as nicely as possible to make a good impression on the attendees. Meanwhile, those who were merely test subjects, nothing less and nothing more, like the second girl, were paraded up in threadbare rags and sent right back down.
'Boring.'
My gaze as I watched the stage wasn't any different from Claire's.
Sympathy and pity for the children.
Rage and disgust for the bastards treating them like objects.
I felt none of those colorful emotions.
My gaze toward the stage, toward this entire space, was one of pure indifference. To a surprising degree, even to myself.
'It must be one of the changes that came from absorbing the memories in the Essences.'
It's not bad.
I'm perfectly willing to accept a change like this.
Some might say I lack emotion, that I'm devoid of humanity, and they can keep their distance for all I care.
To achieve my objective, I have no need to get in anyone's good graces. And even if such a need were to arise, the target would never be a human being.
'My role is nothing more than that of a guardian.'
A fence that provides an environment where a girl can grow and become independent, protecting her.
A fence has no need for emotion.
I will impale any pathetic worm that doesn't know its place and tries to climb over, and wear its corpse as an ornament. To ensure the thought of crossing me a second time never even enters their head.
"Number 30."
The light illuminating the stage shifted, and the blackout curtains beneath it swayed. It was time for the next child to come up.
A staff member scurried across the stage, dragging another child up by the hand.
The child on stage was as grimy and neglected as any of the other children designated as test subjects.
White hair that had grown out wild and unkempt, covering her eyes.
Blue eyes, slightly dazed, peeking through.
Clothes like rags.
Gaunt arms and legs.
Her appearance was no different from the others at all.
But...
"Age 12. Abandoned at birth and raised in an orphanage, no special story to tell aside from a slightly unusual appearance. The opening bid is 70—"
The man who had been prattling on noisily on stage fell silent.
His gaze was directed straight at me.
No doubt because I had risen from my seat.
My body, steeped in lingering lethargy all this time, moved for the first time without resisting my will.
I stepped out of my seat, headed for the stage, and climbed up.
A small figure, barely reaching up to my legs.
I bent my knees and lowered my back. I met her gaze. Brought our eyes to the same level.
My face, reflected in the blue eyes staring out from between the long strands of her overgrown bangs.
Truly clear eyes. And a ferocious look in them.
I took off my coat and draped it over the child's shoulders. Even then, the child just stared up at me with those dazed eyes.
I carefully gathered the child into my arms. The girl's body, unwashed for who knows how long, carried a mix of unpleasant odors. And she was light.
"Claire."
"Yes."
The woman, who had silently followed me, stepped up onto the stage.
"Let's head back to the car first."
"Yes. I will handle the various... clean-up and follow behind."
I gave no answer, just walked past her and stepped down from the stage.
And then I quickened my pace.
I needed to get out of this place before the last dregs of my patience ran completely dry.
**
Exactly five minutes after the man left the lounge with the child in his arms.
Objects that had once been arms and legs lay scattered casually across the formerly clean and subtly elegant lounge.
Nor was it just that room.
The entire building, artificially constructed for the purpose of these auctions, was now saturated with the sticky, metallic stench of blood.
"P-please, spare, spare me, please spare me..."
Claire idly tapped the blade of light she had formed from holy power, looking down at a middle-aged man cowering and trembling on the floor.
The director of the orphanage that had put the girl up for auction; the girl the man had carried away in his arms.
He was the only adult left alive in the building, currently pissing himself right before her eyes.
'Should I take him with me?'
The man's reaction to that girl, his actions, had been exceedingly special.
The way he had moved, as if cradling something precious.
The wretch before her was the one who had roughly mishandled something that man held dear.
Her deliberation was brief.
Thwock.
No one could see when or how she had moved. The terrified man's head simply tumbled to the floor.
She had no fondness for slaughter, but that preference did not outweigh the will of the god she served.
The blade of light in Claire's hand dissolved back into holy power and seeped into her body, disappearing.
She operated the smartwatch on her wrist and sent a single word to someone.
『Execute』
She lowered her wrist and surveyed the carnage surrounding her. And then she recalled a memory from the day before.
【That man is a Disaster.】
A Disaster.
【Can humans stop a natural disaster? They only minimize the damage and pray and wait for it to pass. It's the same. That man is an unavoidable Disaster for us. For humans as well.】
- Even if the gods combined their power, could nothing be done about it?
【That's exactly why I call it a Disaster. It's the same as a massive tsunami or a typhoon that billions of humans can't stop by gathering together.】
- I see.
【Claire. I told you. We are not omnipotent.】
The god, who by all rights should be exalted by the faithful, called himself non-omnipotent.
【I find this place amusing. Claire, you're a bit boring, but I still love you. When the children don't listen, I do get angry, but I like that too. That's why I want to stay with all of you for a long time.】
A non-omnipotent god who loves his followers excessively.
【This Disaster is fated to break out someday. But I suppose the timing of it could be delayed.】
A thing that will happen someday.
But whose timing can be delayed.
【I don't know what that man desires. Still, I imagine he wouldn't like annoying insects buzzing around him. So, Claire.】
The god, who deserves all honor, asks a favor of a beloved follower.
【Please, Claire, make sure those annoying insects don't buzz around him.】
―Yes.
The method Claire chose to ensure no annoying insects would buzz around that man.
It was to seize and occupy every external gaze.
Eliminate everyone who witnessed that man's presence, including all participants in the auction.
This alone is not enough.
She would mobilize the knightage dispatched to Korea to raid other auction houses.
The email Claire sent was the signal that set that plan in motion.
Soon, holy knights and priests would be dispatched here as well, to protect the remaining children.
'It will be noisy for a while.'
But of one thing she was certain: no one would ever ask them the reason for any of this.
The God of Amusement was known to the public as the most gentle of gods. So what would the public think when followers of such a god raided illegal facilities?
Whatever the reason, they would believe the operators of the auction house had crossed some kind of line.
The organization that ran this facility would fall into similar confusion. They would spend a long time reviewing everything they had done. And ultimately, they would send someone on their own accord to bow their heads in submission.
The sudden wrath of a gentle god blurs the line between good and evil, driving humans into sheer terror.
—Ding.
A light flickered on her smartwatch.
An email confirming the holy knights and priests dispatched to protect the children had arrived.
"Well, then."
She checked to make sure no blood had splattered onto her clothes, then quietly made her way outside.