Madness at the Auction House

The Lunadria auction Seojun had listed set Superhuman Net ablaze.

Never mind the actual effects—its absurd size alone was enough to make it the talk of the entire network.

Public interest only grew with every passing minute. Even though the auction lasted less than three hours, word of mouth snowballed until a flood of bidders poured in.

10,500 Coin.

11,300 Coin.

11,800 Coin.

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35,200 Coin.

With five minutes left on the clock, the bid had already soared past 35,000 Coin.

“Hoo.”

Kim Jeonghwan let out a long breath of relief as the bidding finally stalled. The 35,200 Coin bid currently sitting at the top was his.

The handful of stubborn rivals who had been clinging on finally seemed to decide the price was too much and stopped raising.

Fair enough. Who in their right mind would dump 35,000 Coin on a single Lunadria?

As far as he knew, the highest price a Lunadria had ever fetched was around 9,000 Coin—and that one had been a supreme-grade specimen among supreme-grade specimens.

But this one looks a little wilted. Quality-wise it’s mid-to-low grade at best.

No matter how unprecedented its size, at the end of the day it was still just a Lunadria. If he hadn’t been desperate, he never would have thrown 35,200 Coin at it either.

One minute left. In a moment that Lunadria would be his.

Please… let it be a Lunadria I can actually use for clinical trials.

While Kim Jeonghwan was already planning his next steps—

“Huh?”

He stared blankly at the number that had just changed before his eyes. Someone had just thrown more than 55,000 Coin at it.

“N-no…!”

He frantically reached for the interface—

“Ah…!”

His head dropped in despair.

If the clinical trials failed, the alchemy workshop he ran could go under. And it wasn’t just his own livelihood at stake.

He was the director of multiple orphanages. The lives of countless children rested on his shoulders.

The income from his existing alchemy workshop alone was already running the orphanages at a loss. At this rate he would soon have no choice but to shrink their scale.

But he couldn’t bear the thought. Every one of those kids was like his own child. Where was he supposed to send them?

So, swallowing his pride, he had carved out a new path. He had taken on investors.

The project: develop a High-Concentration Mana Ampoule Potion for high-ranking superhumans using Lunadria.

At first everything seemed to be going smoothly. But the moment they moved into full-scale production, failure after failure piled up.

He had identified the cause. To create a high-concentration mana ampoule, they needed a Lunadria with far higher mana content than any ordinary specimen.

That was why the Lunadria that had appeared in the auction felt like a lifeline heaven itself had thrown him—a sign that he was meant to take even better care of the children from now on.

Ahh…

His sigh only grew heavier.

“Hm?”

I rubbed my eyes and sat up. I had dozed off while fretting over the drinking-water problem.

“Three hours already, huh.”

Eyes gleaming, I opened the Auction tab.

A successful sale meant it had gone for at least 5,000 Coin. So how much had it actually fetched?

Ten percent fee. Pretty steep. I’d heard a lot of people just found a buyer on Superhuman Net and did private trades to avoid it. But for the time being I had no choice—I’d have to keep paying the fee.

“One, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand… W-what? 49,999 Coin?”

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. I’d figured 6,000 Coin at best. Almost 50,000?

What the hell had happened?

I immediately dove into Superhuman Net.

“Ah.”

Looking at the thread, it seemed a full-blown bidding war had broken out over the Lunadria I’d listed.

Wait—even a Lv 70 superhuman still sees the level as ???? Then just how high is this thing’s level?

I clicked my tongue and glanced over at the Lunadria field. Spirit herbs grown in a Dragon’s Lair really were on a completely different level. No wonder people were mistaking me for some high-ranking superhuman climbing the Abyss Tower.

Either way, I was the only one who had come out ahead.

50,000 Coin was five hundred million won in real money. An amount I never could have imagined in my ordinary life. Suddenly my options had exploded.

I can stock up on mana potions, buy a basic mana circulation manual, and still have plenty left over.

I could even pick up cultivation tools that had received Item Appraisal ratings.

After thinking it over, I was pretty sure the reason the Lunadria had grown so special was the unique soil of the Dragon’s Lair. If that was the case, planting other spirit herbs should produce the same kind of results, right? I needed to buy cultivation tools and test it.

And harvesting tools too.

With proper harvesting tools I could safely check the water in the spring and the moss growing beside it.

“I’ll buy Clearwater Herb seeds as well.”

Clearwater Herb. A plant whose leaves held crystal-clear droplets of moisture; squeeze them and you got clean, refreshing water. In places where water was scarce it served as a vital source of life, famous for its pure blue-green translucent leaves.

If I successfully cultivated it, the drinking-water problem would be solved. And somehow I had a feeling that what would grow here wouldn’t be ordinary Clearwater Herb, but something special.

“Haha.”

A delighted smile spread across my face. This place that had terrified me at first now looked like a paradise of dreams and hope.

If I just kept eating Lunadria regularly and sold the surplus, I could probably climb into the ranks of high-level superhumans. And if I succeeded in cultivating other crops and spirit herbs on top of that… an entirely new world would open up.

And it’s not just cultivation.

There were still unexplored passages left. What was waiting down those tunnels? It felt like waiting for Christmas presents.

“Alright, time to buy everyth—hm?”

Just as I was about to make my purchases, I noticed a flood of notifications on the post I had made on Superhuman Net earlier.

The post where I had asked about Lunadria market prices before listing the auction was now buried under a mountain of comments—every single one of them questions about me and the Lunadria.

Hm?

As I scrolled through the comments, one in particular caught my eye.

Back when everyone else had dismissed my post as pure bait, this was the superhuman who had first told me about the Auction system and the market ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠price.

He had left several increasingly urgent comments. He really seemed to need this Lunadria.

I do owe this person a favor…

I opened a private conversation and messaged Rainbow Potion.

I suddenly found myself curious why this superhuman named Rainbow Potion wanted Lunadria so badly.

“Huh?”

At Rainbow Potion’s words, a certain person flashed through my mind.

Director Kim.

When I was little, both my parents worked long hours and there was no one to look after me. The person who had taken care of me and helped me make so many friends was Director Kim of Sarang Orphanage.

He had also been a superhuman who had awakened the Alchemy trait. From what I remembered, he manufactured and sold potions himself to keep the orphanage running.

No way. It couldn’t be the same person, right?

Come on. Even for a coincidence, that would be too much.

“······!”

It was him.

Director Kim. No—Uncle Kim.

Good heavens. It really was Uncle Kim?

No, not uncomfortable at all.

Uncle Kim’s words made my nose sting. The image of his gently smiling face rose before my eyes—the wrinkled face always filled with love and warmth.

One day when I had been depressed over a failure, he had taken my hand with warm eyes and said, “Seojun, you can do it. Don’t worry.” That encouraging expression was still vivid in my mind.

Uncle Kim’s voice had always been soft, and every word he spoke planted courage and hope in me.

And now that same uncle was earnestly pleading with me.

That’s right, Park Seojun. Given the current situation I can’t reveal who I am to Uncle… but if I’m going to sell them anyway, I should sell them to him.

He replied instantly.

Even though it was just a single line of text, I could feel the raw emotion pouring out of him.

When I named the price I had in mind—

Uncle practically jumped out of his seat.