[Character Status: Alex Kane]Rank: E-Rank (Scavenger Apprentice - Peak)
Strength: 33 (+4 Refined)
Agility: 26 (+3 Refined)
Constitution: 23 (+5 Refined)
Active Essences: Sharpness (10), Iron-Hoof Durability (Locked).
Current Condition: Stable / Evolution Threshold 12%
The "Scrap Yard" auction house was a hollowed-out cathedral of rusted steel and flickering neon. Smoke from cheap mana-cigars swirled in the rafters, obscuring the faces of the city's underworld. Mercenaries with cybernetic limbs sat shoulder-to-shoulder with disgraced nobles, their eyes fixed on the stage where "unidentified" treasures were sold for blood-stained credits.
Alex moved through the crowd like a phantom, the matte black cloak Jack provided acting as a shroud. His newfound [Agility] allowed him to navigate the tight spaces without brushing a single shoulder.
"Make way for the Drake Syndicate!"
The crowd parted. Victor Drake marched toward the VIP section, his arm in a high-tech kinetic sling and a jagged scar still fresh on his cheek. He looked like a wounded wolf—more dangerous and twice as desperate.
"Find me something with a High-A rank rating," Victor hissed to his assistant. "I don't care about the price. I need to replace the stats I lost in that godforsaken hole."
Victor's gaze swept over the crowd, passing right over Alex. To him, Alex was just another faceless rat in the gutter. He didn't realize that the "rat" was currently dissecting him with a single glance.
[Divine Sight: Activated.]
Alex saw it immediately: Victor's mana circuit was frayed, leaking energy like a cracked pipe. Good, Alex thought. He hasn't recovered from the Void Hand's touch.
The auctioneer, a woman with a voice like grinding gravel, stepped onto the podium. "Lot 14: A 'Void-Locked' Relic. Recovered from the ruins of the Old World Capital. Mana-signature: Zero. Durability: Indestructible by conventional means."
Two hulking guards hauled a heavy, rusted iron chest onto the stage. It looked miserable—covered in barnacles of dried mud and smelling of ancient rot.
"The best mages in the city have tried to crack this," the auctioneer admitted with a shrug. "All failed. It's essentially a very heavy paperweight. Starting bid: 5,000 Credits."
A wave of laughter rippled through the hall.
"5,000 for a box of air?" a mercenary mocked. "I can find better junk in a landfill!"
Victor didn't even look up from his tablet. "Ignore it. It's a dud. No mana means no value."
But through Alex's eyes, the world had changed.
The rusted iron was merely a husk—a "Trash Layer" designed to fool the System's standard detection. Beneath the mud and the rust, Alex saw a blinding, crystalline lattice of pure, ancient energy. It wasn't mana; it was something older.
[Detected: Primordial Essence — 'The First Flame' (Origin Grade).][Status: Encapsulated in 'Void-Lead' (Trash-Rank concealment).][Scavenge Potential: Infinite.]
Alex's heart hammered against his ribs. This wasn't just a treasure; it was a fragment of the world's source code.
"5,000 credits," Alex's voice cracked through the air, muffled by his hood.
The room went quiet. Heads turned toward the shadowed figure in the back. Victor Drake glanced over, a sneer forming on his lips. "A scavenger buying a box of rust. Fits the profile, doesn't it?"
"5,500," a merchant in the front called out, likely hoping to flip the "indestructible" box as a novelty item.
"10,000," Alex said immediately. It was almost everything he had made from trading the Behemoth's lesser parts to Jack.
The merchant hesitated, then sat down. 10,000 was too much for a joke.
"10,000 once... twice..."
"Wait," Victor spoke up, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Alex's cloak. He didn't recognize Alex, but he hated being outbid in his own city. "15,000. Just to keep the 'trash' in the hands of those who can afford to lose the money."
Victor didn't want the box; he wanted to assert dominance.
Alex felt a surge of cold fury, but he kept his voice steady. He couldn't outbid a Drake with money. He needed to trade something they couldn't ignore.
He walked toward the stage, ignoring the gasps of the crowd. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, glowing vial. Inside was a swirling, viscous red liquid—the [Bloodline Essence] he had stripped from the Behemoth's heart, a concentrated dose of C-Rank mutation energy.
"I don't have credits," Alex said, placing the vial on the auctioneer's table. "I have this. A pure, stabilized Bloodline Essence. Guaranteed to increase Constitution by +10 without rejection."
The auctioneer's eyes went wide. She grabbed a scanner. The device chimed a high-pitched, frantic gold. "Grade: Rare! Purity: 99.9%! Estimated value... 50,000 Credits!"
The room erupted. Even Victor stood up, his face pale. A 99.9% purity essence was unheard of—it was a miracle of refinement.
"The box," Alex said, his silver eyes flashing beneath the hood. "Is mine."
Victor's jaw tightened. He looked at the vial, then at the hooded boy. He wanted that essence. He needed it to heal his frayed mana. But the auction rules were absolute.
"Sold!" the auctioneer shouted, slamming the gavel. "To the man in black!"
As Alex hauled the heavy, "worthless" chest off the stage, he felt Victor's murderous gaze boring into his back.
"Track him," Victor whispered to his guards. "Wait until he's out of the Scrap Yard. Kill him, and bring me that chest and the boy's head."
Alex didn't turn around. He could hear the threats in the air as clearly as his own heartbeat. He had the chest. Now, he just had to survive the night.