Rakuya acted as if he had not heard a thing, savoring the tea in his cup.
Outside the auction hall, the road was lined with kneeling figures, from wealthy merchants to pirates, even a few of the rising Supernovas. None of them wanted the headache of being chased across the seas by an Admiral, so they swallowed their pride and knelt.
"Parasites, the lot of those Celestial Dragons."
"If the Admirals were not backing them, I would have smashed that corpse faced idiot with one punch."
"Quiet. You want us all dead."
"A pack of lowborn mongrels."
Saint Charmaque's gaze skimmed the crowd, contempt written plain across his face. He spat a gob of phlegm onto a pirate's shoulder and sauntered inside.
Only after he vanished through the doors did many people breathe again. Sweat soaked collars as the fortunate wiped their brows and trailed in after him, hearts thudding.
Charmaque never bothered to look around. Playing the tyrant, high on his own stink, he did not even notice Rakuya. By failing to see him, he accidentally dodged disaster.
Rakuya took another unhurried sip and waited for the auction to start.
News that a Celestial Dragon had come spread like fire through dry scrub.
"Welcome, distinguished guests, to today's auction. I am your auctioneer, Mondi."
The young man onstage wore a fashionable coat, hair dyed a striking blue. The sharp heels on his black shoes did not match the thickness of his legs at all.
Hearing the opening spiel, the crowd loosened a notch. The lingering dread from Charmaque's entrance began to ebb.
"Spare me the chatter and begin. This saint has no time to waste on garbage."
Charmaque's eyes were cold. The threat was not subtle.
"Y yes, my lord." Mondi bowed and scraped, smiling like a hyena.
"Hmph."
Charmaque cut him a glare and shut his eyes to rest.
Only Mondi knew his back was already drenched.
"At our honored guest's request, we will skip the warm up. Straight to the main event."
Colored spotlights flared to life overhead, beams crossing the hall and pooling on the center stage.
Mondi lifted a hand with practiced ease, pointing toward a glass vessel waiting in a corner.
"Our first lot is a young, beautiful mermaid."
An attendant in a mask rolled a large, round, transparent tank onto the stage. It was filled near to the brim with water, and within it swam a golden haired mermaid.
In this world, merfolk had the upper body of a human and a tail from the waist down, the mirror of fishmen's features. This one looked very young. She pressed her forehead to the glass, wide red eyes brimming with fear.
"A mermaid. Are you kidding me."
"Woohoo."
"They are selling a mermaid. That is going to fetch the sky."
"Perfect. My aquarium is missing a centerpiece. I want her."
The hall, crushed flat moments ago by Charmaque's presence, erupted. Catcalls, greedy laughs, sleeves rolled up by excited moguls, the air thrummed with hunger.
"A mermaid," Charmaque murmured, opening his eyes. Interest flickered there. He had seen one before, but never owned one.
Mondi finally exhaled. As expected, a mermaid electrified the room. This would bring in a fortune. The more the hammer price climbed, the fatter his cut.
He grinned and launched into the pitch. "You all know the story. Mermaids are perpetually scarce, priceless in most markets. Even our top house sees only a handful each year, if that. I do not need to belabor how rare this lot is. The starting price is sixty million Beli. Each raise no less than three million."