White Ink 3

Having finished her self-introduction, Choi Deokhui pulled a bottle of White Ink from her bosom and said,

"Allow me to introduce today's star. This is the corrective ink you've confirmed through the samples. Its official name is White Ink, and one bottle holds 200ml—this is the exact bottle you'll be purchasing."

The hunters' eyes gleamed as they stared at the White Ink.

Seeing this, Choi Deokhui smiled and continued. "The auction format is simple. Write your conditions on the pads in front of you. I'll review them and display the results on your pads. And the conditions will remain private."

As soon as Choi Deokhui finished speaking, Alfonso from Canada spoke up.

"You're saying we'll proceed with the auction without knowing others' conditions? What kind of auction is that?"

Alfonso frowned, and the other hunters nodded in agreement.

To win, you needed to know what the opponent bid so you could top it—but with privacy, that was impossible. To any third party, Alfonso's point seemed perfectly reasonable for a normal auction.

But this wasn't a normal auction.

At Alfonso's question, the corner of Choi Deokhui's mouth twitched upward as she replied, "I understand your point, Alfonso. But this auction differs from conventional ones, so it doesn't matter. Rather than explaining every detail, it'll be faster to just try it. We'll do a real auction for this one bottle of White Ink right here. Please enter your conditions on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠your pads."

The hunters tilted their heads in confusion, faces full of doubt, but began typing on their pads.

On the podium where Choi Deokhui stood was a screen displaying the 11 hunters' pads in real time.

One by one, the 11 hunters entered their conditions.

"Pads will lock in 10 seconds. No more additions after that, so please finalize. Countdown begins. 10, 9… 2, 1, 0. Locked."

Some hunters added last-second conditions, while others had finished early. As the countdown ended, Choi Deokhui pressed a button next to the screen to lock the pads and began reading the conditions aloud.

Most offered upper-grade mana ink. The highest was Jonathan from the US Houston workshop with 15 bottles, while Iceland's Sivar offered the lowest at 3 bottles.

After confirming all, Choi Deokhui pressed another button. YES and NO buttons appeared on each pad, and everyone hit YES.

The 11 hunters' faces lit up instantly. Sivar from Iceland, who had bid the least, looked outright shocked.

"As you can see on your pads, it should say 'Contract Success' for everyone."

Only then did the hunters sense something off. At first, they thought they'd won the auction, but seeing everyone else's bright faces sparked confusion. And with Choi Deokhui's words confirming all successes, the bewilderment deepened.

A few hunters let out low sighs, their faces dawning with understanding.

"Some of you have already figured it out. Yes, exactly. From your perspective, this is a 1-on-1 auction. If I like your conditions, I'll contract; if not, reject."

Low groans echoed around the room. The rest finally grasped the format.

"The auction will run 100 bottles at a time, for a total of five rounds."

The hunters exclaimed in shock.

"A h-hundred bottles?"

"Five hundred in total?"

"Wait, with us here, that's over five thousand bottles?!"

Every hunter wore an incredulous expression, mouths agape at the sheer volume exceeding their expectations.

They'd assumed the limited supply meant only top enchanter nations like theirs would gather for auction. Most had pegged total stock at around 100 bottles. Some ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠countries had even secretly plotted collusion.

No one could beat the US in a straight auction. Even split among three, each American matched two or three other nations combined. Individual bids were hopeless, so they'd discussed secretly dividing the stock.

But 100 bottles per round, five rounds? Up to 500 per hunter if played right.

Even 100 was enough for top enchanters to use for two or three months, with output multiplying several-fold.

All eyes bored into Choi Deokhui, who smiled and confirmed.

"Yes. A total of 5,500 bottles are prepared. No need to worry about supply."

The definitive answer sent shivers of ecstasy through the hunters.

Suddenly, Choi Deokhui's expression hardened, her voice turning stern. "However, once a round passes, it's gone. You might leave with just that one bottle from earlier. And don't think repeating the first round's bid will work in the second—that's a big mistake."

A few hunters flinched guiltily as she continued.

"Also, since it's 1-on-1, all conditions are judged relatively. Don't get complacent matching another country's bid. Offer something unfit for your capacity, and you might leave empty-handed."

The hunters' faces, once loose with excitement, began to stiffen one by one. The heated atmosphere cooled instantly—they all understood her implication.

As she'd said, this auction was different. It wasn't about outbidding others slightly. All conditions were relative, and mismatched offers risked total failure.

Their minds grew tangled. Strategies crumbled; now they needed bids to truly sway Choi Deokhui.

Thrill coursed through Choi Deokhui as she watched them ponder. These nations could offer the most for White Ink, true—but that wasn't all.

They'd forgotten how desperately they'd groveled for upper-grade mana ink. Not as bad as Japan, but they'd still made her suffer.

This gathering included a touch of petty revenge.

She also owed favors. Ohiarehua herbs were export-banned, but some nations could bend rules. Iceland was one.

With few hunters, Iceland had idle dungeons and welcomed foreigners—who paid 50% tax on loot, keeping the rest.

That's how she'd smuggled Ohiarehua for domestic mana ink production. An Icelandic enchanter had tipped her off, so she'd invited him here as thanks.

Of course, she'd gotten Kim Suho's approval. She wielded the knife, but it couldn't stray from the owner's will.

She'd love a bloodbath, but White Ink sales must expand the workshop. So, sell high—at maximum price.

Shaking off idle thoughts as hunters stewed, she refocused.

"Now, let's begin the first round. As stated, 100 bottles of White Ink are up. Enter your conditions."

The auction kicked off in earnest, hunters typing furiously—clearly prepared during the wait.

And just as it truly began, the man Choi Deokhui most wanted to "see" was heading to the auction hall.

* * *

"President Saneda, we've found them. Starting three days ago: Italy's Antonio, France's Benjamin… US's Jonathan, Jeff, Brian—all confirmed entered the country."

"Damn it!"

Saneda cursed as his premonition proved true.

"Where are they now? They haven't left already, have they?"

More crucial than entry was their current location.

"No departure records. No info on Choi Deokhui yet, but Kim Seungmin's located—tracking now. Ah! Got it. Location is…"

Despair birthed a spark of hope at the edge.

Saneda rushed to the reported site, arriving at a building where Western hunters stood outside. He was certain.

It's here. They're here.

Saneda immediately called for nearby hunter forces. If worst fears hit, combat might ensue—his group alone wouldn't suffice.

After the call, he charged inside.

Huh? No block? What's going on?

The Western hunters ignored him entirely—odd, but finding Choi Deokhui mattered more.

Searching inside, he finally heard her voice behind a door. Half-smashing it in glee, he burst through.

* * *

The third round ended, and Choi Deokhui strained to suppress her quivering shoulders and rising grin.

So far, perfection.

The 11 hunters' bids were items impossible without White Ink.

Her highest magic pattern before was a 16-division heal array; now she'd secured a 20-division pattern tome.

As bids escalated, revenge felt trivial. Initial twisted faces had thrilled her, but grander offers shifted focus: extract more.

The hunters fared poorly—frowning deeply, sighing while rubbing temples. The pressure was immense.

1-on-1 in name, but with peers, a weaker bid meant solo failure.

They'd tasted it. Boosting once succeeded, but repeating failed.

She evaluated leisurely, knowing all; they competed blind, agonizing over bids.

Without White Ink's uniqueness, they'd have stormed out. But it was world's only source—endure, win more.

Two rounds left. Most had 1-2 wins; all-in now.

Focused, a door flew open. Saneda stormed in, shouting,

"Choi Deokhui! I'm here. No more worries—I'll protect you."

Situational blindness ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠led to his baffling outburst.

But seeing the mismatch—her on stage, them seated—he felt slight unease.

"Good, you weren't kidnapped. Thought something happened since you weren't answering. Haha."

Laughing it off casually, he headed to sit near the hunters.

Then Choi Deokhui spoke.

"Due to this uninvited intruder, today's auction ends here. Guess it's not my day. I'll contact you later. Successful bids will be notified separately."

Frowning, she moved to leave. The participating hunters' eyes bulged in fury.

"Wh-what's that supposed to mean? The auction…?!"

"Who the hell is this bastard?! Crashing and ruining everything—what are you?!"

Curses flew, murderous auras targeted Saneda. Reinforcements arrived, dragging him.

"I-I'm Saneda from Japan! Jonathan, we've met? Japanese Enchanter Association President Saneda!"

Saneda flailed, invoking Jonathan—who coldly snapped,

"Shut up! If you sour Choi Deokhui and cancel the auction, you're done."

Saneda pivoted desperately to her.

"Ch-Choi Deokhui! Why? It's me, Saneda! You sent samples, invited to auction by letter! If it's about upper-grade mana ink exports, misunderstanding—let's talk…"

She cut him off mid-plea.

"Tsk tsk. Did you only read that one letter? Miss the other? It clearly said: 'Thanks for the upper-grade mana ink exports—here's payback, take it and scram. Oh, and auction's on. Didn't say you could join, did I? Oh? Eyes changing?"

As Saneda's gaze shifted, she smirked brazenly at the others.

"Looks like Saneda's threats scare me—gotta halt the auction. If he mobilizes national power, how could I resist? For survival, end it now."

Saneda's eyes flashed dangerously as nine hunters closed in; he waved frantically, stammering excuses.

"N-no! M-misunderstanding!"

To be continued in the next chapter...