Chapitre 245: Auction Part twelve
Biana groans from her nest of pillows, the sound low and full of annoyance. She instinctively reaches for the nearest bottle of wine, downing it in one long gulp. Her eyes, heavy with the effects of alcohol, fixate on Isadora who is calmly sipping her coconut. "Why are you here?" she demands, her voice thick with frustration. Isadora, true to her nature, remains silent, offering no response. Biana inhales deeply, trying to calm her rising irritation. "Forget it, you annoying fucker," she mutters under her breath, reaching for another bottle and taking a hiccup-laden swig.
Dismissing Isadora from her thoughts, Biana yawns and abruptly kicks Isadora to the far end of her fluffy, custom-made bed. Sitting up and stretching, her light purple pajamas rustle softly. Rubbing her eyes, Biana's gaze drifts to the damaged door. She blinks, her drunken mind slowly registering the destruction. "Ah! You fucking bitch! You broke my door, dammit!" she exclaims, her voice laced with a mix of anger and disbelief.
Standing up with effort, she steps off the bed, causing the runes in the room to flash briefly before dimming. She stumbles towards the door, inspecting the triangle-shaped hole Isadora had made. "Fuck, this can't be fixed easily... A big fucking triangle right in my door," she grumbles to herself, her annoyance palpable.
Turning sharply to face Isadora, Biana's expression is one of pure indignation. "Get your ass over here, you're going to fix this," she commands, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Isadora stands up, her eyes scanning the runic symbols that blanket the room. She cautiously extends one foot off the bed, testing the ground. Biana, seizing the moment for a bit of mischief, suddenly exclaims, "Boo!" Isadora instinctively recoils, and Biana bursts into laughter, clutching her stomach. "Hahahahahaha!" she chortles, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Hahah... Can't believe you got scared. Hurry up, I deactivated the runes, you moron," she manages between giggles.
Isadora, unfazed by Biana's laughter, walks towards her, calmly continuing to sip her coconut. Biana, shaking her head in frustration, heads over to her desk and retrieves a specialized pencil she crafted as a child. The tool is an elegant piece, with a rich red wooden body and a metal attachment at the tip, made of pure silver that tapers into a fine diamond point. She spins the tool in her fingers, a sense of familiarity and nostalgia in her movements.
Groaning, Biana approaches the damaged door. 'I'm too tired for this...' she thinks, her exhaustion palpable. She places the silver tip of the tool against the wall, pressing down firmly. As she traces a set of runes, they glow momentarily before vanishing, revealing a secret compartment within the room. Inside the compartment, six doors, identical in appearance, stand side by side.
Biana turns to Isadora, a hint of weariness in her voice. "Hurry up and pick one up, these things are heavy," she instructs, gesturing towards the doors.
Isadora effortlessly lifts one of the doors with a single hand, displaying her remarkable strength. As she removes the door from the compartment, it closes up immediately, its mechanism precise and swift. Biana, clearly uninterested in exerting herself any further, yawns and nonchalantly points towards the damaged doorway. "Hurry up and take it off," she instructs, tossing a high-powered magic tool towards Isadora. The tool, designed to remove specialized nails, glints under the room's dim light.
Isadora sets her coconut aside and picks up the tool, but her confusion is evident. She's a master with a sword, but this mundane task is foreign to her. She tries using the tool on the doorknob, fumbling with it awkwardly. Biana, watching this display, can't help but express her annoyance. "How stupid is she? She can wield a sword but can't handle this?" she mutters under her breath, her irritation growing. Marching over to Isadora, she snatches the tool back. "Give me that!" she snaps, quickly demonstrating how it's done. "See how easy this is? Next time don't break my door if you don't know how to fix one!" she chides, her words slurred with intoxication.
After efficiently removing the nails, Biana forcefully pushes the old door outward, and it falls with a resounding thud. She then turns to Isadora, her voice urgent. "Now bring the other one, hurry up before they get here! Dammit, they definitely heard that," she frets, her mind racing with the impending chaos.
Isadora dutifully places the new door into position while Biana scrambles to screw it in place. Her movements are clumsy and slow due to her drunken state. Meanwhile, the maids, led by Etha, rush towards the room, their battle cry echoing through the mansion. "Everyone hurry up and get in before she activates her runes! We're going to clean that place and leave it spotless!" Etha commands, her voice full of determination.
Biana internally panics, 'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, they won't let me sleep if they get in. My peaceful day is already ruined, and they're going to make it worse.' She watches helplessly as Isadora tries to hold the door in place. Etha, spotting an opportunity, addresses Isadora sweetly. "Miss Isadora, can you let go of the door? I have a coconut here~"
Biana, desperate to maintain her sanctuary, pleads, "Don't you fucking let go!" But her plea falls on deaf ears as Isadora immediately releases the door, drawn by the promise of a coconut. Biana's eyes widen in betrayal. 'Ah, you fucking bitch!!' In a last-ditch effort to escape the impending invasion, she retreats to her fluffy bed. "D-don't take another step inside!" she warns, her voice shaking.
Etha, however, is undeterred and taunts her with a playful tone. "Hmhmhm, Biana~ it's time for a makeover~" Biana's eyes widen in horror at the thought. 'Fuck that!' In a swift motion, she stabs her pencil into the floor next to her, and a hidden trapdoor opens beneath her. Without a second thought, she falls into it, seeking refuge from the looming chaos.
Isadora, driven by curiosity and a desire to avoid the commotion, quickly yanks the coconut and jumps into the opening just as it's about to close, leaving the maids and Etha behind. The room, once filled with tension and chaos, falls silent as both Biana and Isadora disappear into the hidden passage.
Biana groans loudly, her hands covering her face as she wallows in self-pity. "Ughhhhhh...." She frowns, her mind swirling with frustration. "You ruined my day... sob sob," she laments, her voice breaking into sobs. Isadora, observing silently, looks around the secret hallway they've landed in. The area is adorned with runes, giving it an air of ancient mystery.
Isadora's gaze falls on Biana, who is somehow still enveloped in a sea of pillows and blankets. A fabricated memory flashes through Isadora's mind – she imagines V, resembling a goblin boy, telling her, "Biana is so lazy and addicted to sleeping, she must have dozens of secret places all over her house where she can sleep at." She nods in agreement with this imaginary advice.
Biana, amidst her fluff, begins to frantically search for something. She stands up abruptly, panic in her movements. "Fuck fuck fuck!" she exclaims, staggering painfully. "I need to go get some wine," she declares, her need for alcohol driving her actions.
Isadora follows Biana through the tight hallways, her curiosity piqued. Biana, still groggy, warns her, "Don't touch anything. I made this place when I was a kid, so the runes here are highly unstable. Look." She demonstrates by touching the wall, causing the entire place to shake momentarily. Isadora, however, remains uninterested, continuing to sip her coconut nonchalantly.
After navigating several turns, Biana stops and draws a rune on the wall with her pencil. The wall parts, revealing her mother's private wine cellar – a treasure trove of thousands of gallons of various wines. Biana, her face lighting up with excitement, leaps into the room. She peruses the collection, musing, 'What type of wine should I try next?' Selecting a bottle, she takes a sip, sighing in relief. "You want some?" she offers to Isadora.
Isadora, curious yet inexperienced with alcohol, takes the bottle and attempts to drink it as if it were water. However, she immediately opens her mouth, letting the wine pour out. She quickly rinses her mouth with coconut water, washing away the unfamiliar taste. Biana scoffs at her reaction. "Don't waste it! Just say no next time, you clearly have no taste," she remarks dismissively, her tone a mix of amusement and slight disdain.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Kael, his grin unwavering, spins his cane with a flourish. 'Hmhmhmhm, everything's falling into place. Contracts signed, profits soaring. I've already sold off the priority rights for E-C guns,' he muses contentedly. His gaze shifts to the screen, displaying the ongoing bids for rank B priority rights.
The numbers flash with increasing intensity:
[1][300,000]
[3][322,000]
[24][350,000]
[14][351,000]
Kael's smirk deepens. 'It was bound to be like this. Rose is adamant about securing the top priority rights across all ranks. She's not settling for second or third – always aiming for the top. The escalating prices are mainly due to her and bidder number 24.' His eyes dart back to the screen, watching the bids climb relentlessly.
[1][360,000]
[24][365,000]
[1][370,000]
[24][380,000]
[1][390,000]
[13][400,000]
[24][405,000]
[1][420,000]
[10][421,000]
[7][422,000]
[1][450,000]
[14][455,000]
[24][460,000]
Kael hums, his amusement evident. 'It's quite the spectacle – these two, unknowingly bidding against each other. The one who wins will change the course of the story. In the end, it doesn't matter who wins. I'll adapt my plans accordingly.' He surveys the room, where the intensity of bidding reflects the high stakes involved.
Addressing the crowd, Kael's voice cuts through the tension. "Remember, this is a permanent fixture. Whether you purchase guns for defense or offense, it's immaterial to us. We will provide, even if others frown upon it. Our terms are steadfast, so don't hesitate to make a bold move if it serves your interests," he states confidently, ensuring every word resonates with the bidders.
Queen Celeste, her fingers thoughtfully tracing the line of her chin, contemplates her strategy in silence. 'I managed to get First rank priority for all previous weapon ranks,' she muses, her gaze piercing as it settles on the frenetic auction display. 'Although the dragon's eye sniper is amazing, it's not worth the investment. I'd rather equip my soldiers with something they can wield effectively. And with my solid connections across most guilds, I don't need to worry about A-rank weapons. I'm confident they'll be flexible with me.'
Her eyes, sharp and calculating, fixate on the screen where numbers and bids blur in a high-stakes dance. 'Number 24 and number 1 aren't holding back—they're preparing for war. That's why he stated they'll provide weapons regardless of opinions. If this was anyone else, it would be a bluff, but this organization is an enigma, beyond anyone's control.'
From her VIP seat, Lilith lets out an exasperated sigh. The tower master's features are a canvas of frustration and concern. 'This is maddening. I already have what I want, but witnessing this bidding frenzy is unsettling. As the tower master, I'm obligated to strive for peace.' She massages her temples, her annoyance palpable. 'And that insufferable witch, turning to smirk at me with each of her bids—she's unmistakably taunting me.'
Amidst the chaotic symphony of bids and murmurs, Kael hums, a contented melody to his own success. 'I'm already more than satisfied with the results. I'm rich, Eira's rich, Zeke's rich—we're set for the next couple of years. The bulk of the earnings will go into expanding our factories, but the surplus alone will afford us a myriad of luxuries.' With a nonchalant twirl of his cane, he reflects, 'There's nothing more satisfying than having everything under my control.'
[what an ego]
Kael clicks his tongue, a smirk playing on his lips as the system panel flickers into existence. 'Don't ruin my moment, in around one year I went from being in the slums to having dozens of important people view me as an equal.'
[And yet you're still a weak little boy]
With an irritated 'tsk,' Kael retorts, 'Tsk, shut up and tell me what I got. You only bother me when I do something right, right?'
[❇Congratulations, host❇]
[You're somehow here...]
[Hidden title gained!]
[Faker]
['Fake it till you make it? Na, I'm the goddamn legend of manipulation!'
-The first faker, the first title belonging to the man who faked his way into becoming a celestial]
[critital thinking increases by 15%]-[charisma +5]
Kael smirks, his amusement evident. "A title? I thought those were exclusive to 'that' tower. Hmmm... let's go! An additional 5 charisma? This is the best thing I've gotten today." The confidence in his voice is unmistakable, echoing the triumph he feels within.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
QTV
QTV Fun Fact: Isadora now hates alcohol.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone