The First Boss (2): The Red-Haired Prize
At the bottom of the stairs, the auction house resembled a small theater. There was a wooden stage, and opposite it, rows of tiered seats for the bidders. The stepped arrangement ensured everyone had a clear view of the stage—a thoughtful touch, even if the kinds of goods traded here weren't exactly uplifting.
I found a spot in the far corner amid the already crowded seats. Etcha—. From here, I could see the tops of their heads, but they couldn't see mine. It felt just like being the delinquent in the back row during school. A strange sense of victory washed over me.
"Haven't seen you around before."
I turned at the voice behind me to find someone peering down at my head. His antique clothing and mask gave away his identity easily.
'Gardnil.'
The NPC who chats you up the first time you enter the auction house in the game, offering all sorts of help. Of course, he wasn't an NPC anymore, but his behavior seemed unchanged.
"Nice to meet you."
I stood right away to face him. Predictable. He'd probably been savoring the view of my head. Not anymore, though. It was also a polite move, all things considered.
"What item are you here to bid on?"
"Wouldn't that just create more competition if I told you?"
"I'm not here to buy anything in particular. Just to soak in the auction atmosphere."
Classic lunatic. The kind whose brain was mush from dopamine highs. They say avoid people who love the party more than the booze. Gardnil was exactly that type.
But.
"I see. I love the auction vibe too. Especially the heat when bidders clash over a single item..."
"Haha, you're quite the refined gentleman."
Gardnil had money. Filthy rich, the bourgeois of bourgeois. He could probably spot me what I'd made selling the estate as pocket change. That alone was reason enough to buddy up. Money couldn't buy everything in this world, but it covered most things.
"Mind if I join you?"
"By all means, be my guest."
Just like that, I'd gained a solid ally. More than just a rich friend. In the game, you'd only meet him mid-story... but this was the freedom of reality. No game freedom rating could match it.
It wasn't long before the lights dimmed, leaving only the stage illuminated. The auction house plunged into darkness, and the auctioneer appeared from the shadows in one corner of the stage. A sharp-suited man in a mask.
"Thank you all for coming to the auction house today. Some familiar faces... and"
His gaze swept the crowd and paused on me.
"...some new ones. Excellent."
Not surprising. I'd heard that line countless times in the game. Still, it sent a subtle chill down my spine. The gap between game and reality, I suppose.
"Let's get straight to it! The first item you've all been waiting for—!"
Drurruk— drurruk—. Another suited, masked man wheeled out a large cart covered in red cloth, hiding whatever was inside. With a theatrical flourish, the auctioneer yanked it away.
"The legendary Monkey's Paw!"
It looked almost human—rough, hairy hand. And it was the real deal. For some reason, fakes never appeared at this auction house.
"As you all know, it grants any wish! Bidding starts at 100 gold!"
Starting bid: 100 gold. Just a bit more than what I'd gotten from selling the estate. An insane sum—enough for three generations of commoners to live off without working.
"110! 120! And straight to 140 on the call!"
Still, bids poured in. Granting any wish was that broken.
In the midst of it, Gardnil murmured, "Not bidding, sir?"
"If I want something done, I do it with my own hands."
"A rare, upstanding character these days."
Of course, that was just talk. Who turns down free lunch? The problem was, the Monkey's Paw didn't grant wishes straightforwardly. It twisted them, derailing the user's intent. If I wished to stop the world's doom, it'd kill me so I couldn't see it, or reset the world right before apocalypse. No reason to bid on that trash.
A perfect item wouldn't hit an underground auction anyway.
"Bids in 30-gold increments from now! 360 on the call!"
While I mused, the price shot past three times the estate's value. At this point, envy faded. They were like aliens from another world.
"Whew, fierce competition. This is the thrill of auctions."
And this guy wasn't normal either. Sipping wine and nibbling cheese while watching.
"Care for a glass?"
"Hey, if you're offering, who am I to refuse?"
Watching the wine fill my glass changed my mind. Nothing beat spectating fights with a drink in hand. Gardnil was my big bro from today on.
The nobles kept burning cash after that. A famous magitech scholar's relic went for 120 gold, a notorious beast heart for 35, and so on. I didn't bid once, just clinked glasses with Gardnil and laughed.
"That guy's pissed."
"Losing out on a desired item does that."
"Oh? He's up."
"Showtime."
A potbellied man yelled at the previous winner, but it didn't last. Burly guards dragged him off. Auction rule one: no disturbances. They had a blacklist—break rules, no re-entry. Even big bro Gardnil couldn't dodge that.
"A brief commotion, but no worries! Your safety is guaranteed here. Back to the auction!"
The auctioneer flipped the mood with slick tonguework. A vet of this scene, clearly.
'In other words, step outside and you're on your own.'
Framing it nicely was skill too.
"Next item—!"
The auctioneer bellowed to hype the crowd. On cue, the next lot rolled up.
Clank—. Metal clashed loudly in the hush. Something under red cloth, chains gripped by the suited handler hinting at the contents.
With a grand gesture, the cloth came off.
"A rare human with red hair! Not dyed—pure crimson! Bidding starts at 30 gold!"
The moment I laid eyes on the lot, the buzzkill vanished. This was the prize I'd been waiting for. Younger, but definitely Jenia.
Finally here! I'd have dozed off otherwise!
"30 gold bid!"
I raised my paddle without a second's hesitation. At 30 gold, if it fell now, we could move to a decent house...
"31! 32! Climbing fast! Red hair and stunning looks!"
What the hell do you pervs want with a 14-year-old?! I've got world-saving goals—you're just creeps!
"50 gold! 5-gold increments now! 55 anyone?"
Screw it, bid.
"55! 60 now!"
Agh, seriously...