Though Leon found the character annoying, the path to salvation had been laid out clearly before him, yet he still chose damnation. As far as Leon understood, the tattoos only bestowed power. They did not impose the personality of the individuals connected to them. Every flaw belonged entirely to the character, not to him.
Even so, Leon's frustration only grew as he felt the incredible power coursing through his body. The voices in his mind numbered in the trillions. They were not limited to humans either. He heard insects, animals, trees, and even minds beyond the solar system. He could sense alien consciousness and more. He had the ability to manipulate matter itself, as if the table in front of him could transform into a dog with a single command.
Most astounding of all, when he looked at Grace beside him, he sensed an esoteric force within her. It was indescribable, yet undeniable. He instinctively recognized it as what religion and philosophy alike called the soul, the foundation of existence itself.
"He could see souls, yet he wanted to denounce religion," Leon muttered before laughing.
Grace immediately covered her chest with a yelp as he continued laughing.
"Do not stare at me like that, you pervert!" she snapped, slapping his forearm and making him wince.
"All right, all right… I am sorry," Leon said, finally wiping away the temporary tattoo.
The moment the ink vanished, the overwhelming power faded as though it had never been there at all. Still, a confident smile remained on his face.
It did not matter where he was. He now possessed a method to amplify his abilities, even if temporarily.
"Look at you, acting like a god. Come here and let me show you what real power is!" Grace declared in an exaggerated pose.
"Nope." Leon flicked her forehead and dashed away with the wrapped painting tucked under his arm.
"Ow! Get back here!" Grace shouted, sprinting after him.
Their teasing soon subsided as they climbed into the car that was to take them to their destination. Leon was technically a legal adult, but only in the United States. For the same rights to apply here, he would need to go through legal procedures again, and with his true adulthood only a short time away, the effort was hardly worth it.
As a result, he could not drive, even though he held a driver's license.
Ten minutes later, the car arrived at the auction site, a massive and imposing structure. He looked around and sensed hundreds of masked figures making their way inside. Anonymity was expected among the buyers, which explained why no one had yet discovered his own identity.
"There are more people here than expected," Emma remarked. Leon nodded.
The turnout was significantly larger than he anticipated, but he set the thought aside as they proceeded through the designated entrance. He delivered the painting to the deposit vault.
Inside, Mr. Webar and Winston were already waiting for him.
"It is finally your day," Winston said, smiling warmly.
In the man's eyes, Leon spotted something he had never expected to see directed at him: pride. It confirmed his suspicions. If Christian had shown any competence, this was how his father would have looked at him.
Winston's failings as a parent did not vanish, but the reality was before him and could not be denied.
"After today, do your best to stay indoors. We will handle the rest," Mr. Webar instructed, giving Leon a firm pat on the shoulder.
"I understand, sir. And thank you for everything," Leon replied, smiling brightly.
It struck him just how far he had come. From an orphan with nothing, to someone whose artwork was about to be sold to the highest bidder. Judging by the crowd alone, several hundred million dollars seemed like the minimum his work would fetch.
Possibly far more.