Wearing a monocle, it turned out, had an unexpected side effect: the world looked fifty percent easier to judge.
I stood among the capital's elite crowd in Azure Spire Hall, sipping champagne that probably cost the equivalent of my card shop's annual income. Behind the 'Viscount Vergil Von Vries' mask, my heart beat with the panicked rhythm of a rabbit infiltrating a wolf den. Yet the Backflow from this persona card forced me to remain calm, arrogant, and insufferably obnoxious.
"Look at the carving on that pillar," I muttered softly, more to myself than anyone. "Cheap Neo-Gothic style. The contractor definitely cut corners on the marble budget."
Stop it, logical Rax's side snapped inside my head. Focus on the mission. Don't become an architecture critic.
"Miri," I whispered without moving my lips. "Status?"
From behind my high collar came a soft squeak. "Package delivered, Boss. The 'Aura of Suspicion' card is nicely attached under the velvet base of the Dragon Egg's glass case. The guard there was too busy ogling the Baron's widow's cleavage in the third row to notice."
"Good. Now we just wait for this theater to begin."
The massive crystal chandelier overhead dimmed. The sound of polite chatter—more like buzzing bees in a golden hive—slowly died.
On the marble stage, an old man in a white suit and silk gloves stepped forward. This was Thorne, the legendary auctioneer who could supposedly sell sand to people living in deserts.
"Distinguished guests, Ladies, Gentlemen, and His Highness Prince Eldric," Thorne greeted, bowing deeply toward the VIP balcony where my target sat with feet propped up.
Prince Eldric didn't return the greeting. He just spun his golden dagger between his fingers, face displaying boredom trained over years. Behind him, four Royal Guard sentries stood like death statues in black armor.
"Tonight," Thorne continued, voice trembling with manufactured excitement, "we have a collection that would make the gods jealous. Let us begin with Lot Number 1!"
The velvet curtain pulled back. A rusty sword with a partially missing hilt was revealed.
"The Ancient Hero's Sword!" Thorne exclaimed. "Found in the ruins of the Sun Temple. Said to have beheaded the Hydra! Bidding starts at 500 Gold Coins!"
Silence filled the room. The thing was junk.
But this was a prestige auction. Rich people didn't buy function; they bought stories.
"500!" shouted a fat merchant in the front row.
"600!" countered an old woman wearing an ostrich feather hat.
I felt the 'Superiority Complex' Backflow tickle my tongue. Viscount Vergil couldn't let this bad taste happen before his eyes.
"Ancient Hero?" I scoffed loudly, loud enough to be heard within a ten-meter radius. "That's standard iron forged in Dwarf factories a century ago. Look at the oxidation on the blade. That's not Hydra blood—it's rust from damp storage. Anyone who buys it should immediately hire a tetanus specialist, not a historian."
My comment spread like poison. People around me started whispering. The fat merchant lowered his hand, face flushing with embarrassment.
Thorne, the auctioneer, stared at me sharply. But I responded by raising my champagne glass and smiling crookedly.
"No other bids?" Thorne's voice wavered slightly. "Sold to Feather Hat Lady for 600... congratulations."
The lady didn't look happy. She looked like she'd just bought a dead cat in a sack.
"Boss," Miri whispered. "You're making enemies."
"I'm building credibility, Miri. If they believe I'm an expert at appraising trash, they'll believe me when I appraise treasure."
Lot after lot passed. I kept launching sharp comments. I called an abstract painting "artistic goblin vomit" and a gemstone necklace "colored glass polished too aggressively."
Every time I spoke, bidder enthusiasm declined. Thorne started sweating cold. Prince Eldric on the balcony began sitting up straighter, eyes watching me with curiosity—and slight irritation.
Finally, the awaited moment arrived.
"And now," Thorne's voice regained energy, trying to salvage this deteriorating evening. "Our Main Lot. Tonight's crown jewel."
Dramatic orchestral music—illusion sound magic—echoed through the room. Two muscular guards pushed a golden trolley covered in purple silk cloth.
Prince Eldric stood. He walked to the balcony's edge, eyes gleaming with greed. This was his goal. The Black Dragon Egg. Symbol of absolute military power.
Thorne pulled the covering cloth with theatrical flair.
"LOT NUMBER 5: BLACK DRAGON EGG FROM SHADOW VALLEY!"
There, atop a red velvet cushion, lay an egg the size of a human head. Its scales pitch-black, gleaming like obsidian, radiating a heat aura felt even in the back rows.
"Woooo..." the crowd murmured in awe.
Beautiful. Perfect. Deadly.
Or at least, it should have been.
That's when my glitch card went to work.
[GLITCH ACTIVATED: Aura of Suspicion]
[Target: Dragon Egg]
[Effect: Generating Cognitive Dissonance...]
No physical change to the egg. Scales still black. Shape still oval. But suddenly, everyone in the room's perception shifted slightly left.
A Baron beside me squinted. "Is... is the shape a bit oblong? Like a potato?"
"The color," his wife whispered. "That's not pitch-black. It's more like... dull charcoal gray. Is it moldy?"
"Why does it smell like expired sulfur?" someone else asked.
The egg actually had no smell. This was pure cognitive manipulation. The glitch card planted the idea 'Something's Wrong' directly into the NPCs' Limbic Systems.
Prince Eldric frowned. He leaned forward further, his own monocle flickering as it scanned the egg.
"Bidding starts at 10,000 Gold Coins!" Thorne shouted.
Usually, hands would shoot up immediately. But this time, silence.
Awkward, painful silence.
Prince Eldric raised his hand hesitantly. "10,000," he said, but his voice lacked its usual authority. He sounded suspicious.
This was my moment.
I stepped forward, parting the crowd like Moses splitting the Red Sea, my red velvet coat billowing.
"Ten thousand?" My laughter exploded, sharp and mocking. "For that?"
All eyes turned to me. Including the Prince's eyes, now narrowing dangerously.
"Is there a problem, Viscount?" Prince Eldric asked, voice cold as ice.
I bowed respectfully—slightly too low, bordering on sarcasm.
"Your Highness," I said loudly. "I, Viscount Vergil Von Vries, have seen many dragon eggs in my travels to the Far East. I've seen Golden Dragon eggs that shine like the sun. I've seen Sea Dragon eggs that sing during full moons."
I walked closer to the stage, pointing at the egg with my walking stick.
"But this thing? Forgive my brutal honesty, but this looks like an egg that's... dead."
The statement landed like a bomb. Thorne went pale. "Lord Viscount! Watch your words! This was authenticated by the Grand Palace Wizard!"
"Authentication on paper," I replied casually, pushing the arrogance Backflow to maximum. "But look at its aura. Look at how the scales don't reflect light properly. There's emptiness inside. If this hatches—and that's a very big 'if'—what will emerge? A defective dragon? Or a giant lizard with wings that can't fly?"
I turned to face the Prince, meeting his eyes directly.
"Does the Imperial Prince deserve a mount that's... defective? Imagine the mockery from neighboring kingdoms if Your Highness is seen riding a coughing dragon."
Prince Eldric's face turned crimson. His ego was under attack. His greatest fear wasn't monsters, but looking foolish in public.
"That's nonsense!" Thorne shouted in panic. "This is a perfect egg!"
"Really?" I took a wine glass from a passing servant's tray, then "accidentally" spilled some toward the stage.
The red liquid splattered onto the egg's protective glass.
Due to the glitch card's effect, the liquid appeared to hiss and turn disgusting green in the audience's eyes. (Though it was just regular wine.)
"Look!" someone in the crowd shouted. "The egg is rejecting the offering! It's cursed!"
Social panic spread faster than fire.
"It's a rotten egg!"
"It's a Goblin-made imitation!"
"Don't bid! It'll bring bad luck to your bloodline!"
Prince Eldric jerked his hand back as if electrocuted. His red face now went pale. He stared at the egg with pure disgust.
"Cancel my bid," the Prince said coldly.
"B-but Your Highness..." Thorne stammered.
"I said cancel it!" the Prince snapped. "I will not waste taxpayer money on trash not even worthy of being scrambled eggs. Thorne, are you trying to deceive me?"
"No! I swear by the Gods!" Thorne was nearly crying.
Thorne looked at the crowd. "Any other bidders? 5,000? 1,000?"
Silence. No one wanted to touch 'trash' that had been insulted by a foreign Viscount and rejected by the Prince. The item's reputation was utterly destroyed. Market value: Zero.
[QUEST UPDATE: The Royal Headache]
[Objective: Sabotage Prince's Bid - COMPLETED]
[Reward: 2,000 Gold transferred to Void Account]
[Bonus: Node #7 is amused]
I smiled thinly. Victory.
But victory always came with a price.
Prince Eldric didn't sit back down. He stood, gripping the balcony railing until his knuckles turned white. His eyes no longer looked at the egg. They were fixed on me.
"Viscount Von Vries," he hissed. His voice was no longer bored. It was full of focused hatred. "You have sharp eyes. And a very... dangerous mouth."
Shit.
My original plan was to make the Prince hate the egg. I hadn't calculated that he'd redirect his obsession onto me.
"Just performing a public service, Your Highness," I said, bowing again. This time, cold sweat started soaking my back beneath this fancy suit. The arrogance Backflow was fading, replaced by real Rax's survival instincts.
"Bring that Viscount to my chambers after the event," the Prince ordered his head guard. "I wish to discuss further about... asset appraisal."
The black-armored guard nodded stiffly and began moving down from the balcony toward the main floor.
The danger alarm in my head blared like an air raid siren.
Being invited to the Prince's chambers meant interrogation. And interrogation meant death when they realized 'Viscount Vergil' was just a grocery shop owner with a fake card.
"Miri," I whispered in panic. "Plan B."
"Plan B? We have a Plan B?"
"We do now. Cause chaos. Anything. Now!"
Miri didn't need to be told twice. She leaped from my shoulder, landed on the floor, and ran toward the buffet table at the hall's side.
Within seconds, she toppled a two-meter-tall champagne glass tower.
CRASH!
The ear-splitting sound of shattering glass stopped the guards' advance. The crowd screamed in shock. Glass shards and alcohol fountains spilled everywhere.
"GIANT RAT!" I shouted, pointing at Miri who (thanks to her white fur) did indeed look vague amid the chaos. "THERE'S A MUTANT RAT ON THE LOOSE!"
Social panic turned into physical panic. Ladies ran lifting their gowns. Gentlemen hid behind chairs.
The Prince's guards were blocked by a sea of fleeing humanity.
"My apologies, Your Highness!" I shouted, backing steadily toward the exit. "I seem to be allergic to rats! I must immediately seek a healer!"
Without waiting for an answer, I turned and blended with the panicked crowd, slipping out through a side door guarded by a servant busy rescuing canapé trays.
***
The night air outside Azure Spire felt freezing cold, but to me it felt like heaven.
Miri and I ran three blocks non-stop, diving into narrow alleys, shedding the velvet coat, monocle, and other Viscount attributes while running. I became Rax again in a shabby shirt.
We stopped behind a dingy tavern, breath heaving, white vapor puffing from our mouths.
"That..." Miri panted, spitting out a piece of expensive cheese she'd managed to steal. "...that was insane, Boss. My heart almost fell out."
I leaned against the damp brick wall, laughing. Laughter that started soft, then turned hysterical. Adrenaline mixed with relief.
"We did it, Miri. We embarrassed the Prince, destroyed the auction, and got paid."
I opened the system menu. My gold coin balance had increased.
Total: 5,080 Gold.
Enough to pay the fine. Enough to save the shop.
But then I saw another notification below it. Not from Node #7. This was from the Global Reputation System.
[TITLE GAINED: The Prince's Nemesis (Hidden)]
[Description: Prince Eldric has marked "Viscount Vergil" as a priority target. Royal Intelligence is searching for information about this foreign nobleman. If your true identity is revealed, threat level will rise to: Kill on Sight.]
My laughter stopped instantly.
I wiped sweat from my forehead. I'd just traded money debt for life debt.
"Boss?" Miri tugged my pants. "We won, right?"
"Yes, Miri. We won," I said quietly, staring at Azure Spire tower still glowing bright in the distance. "But I think we just started a war that's far more expensive than 5,000 gold."
Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed at the alley entrance.
Not royal guards. These steps were too heavy, too undisciplined.
I turned. Under the dim streetlamp stood three large figures. They weren't human. Green skin, protruding tusks, muscles that looked like stone.
Orcs. But not wild Orcs. They wore leather jackets with a cracked skull emblem on the back.
Bone Breakers gang. Local debt collectors working for underground loan sharks.
"Rax," the largest one growled, slapping an iron pipe against his palm. "We heard you made good money today. Barnaby says you extorted him. Our boss wants a cut."
I exhaled a long breath. A really long breath.
Gods were loud. Admins were watchers. Princes were vengeful.
And now, local thugs wanted to rob me just as I'd saved my own life.
I felt my pocket. My card deck was there. But I was tired. Infinite Grimoire demanded mental rest.
"You know," I said, stepping forward, remnants of Viscount Vergil's arrogance Backflow apparently not entirely gone yet. "I just insulted the most powerful person in this kingdom and got away with it. What makes you think three green pigs with iron pipes can scare me?"
The Orc roared and charged forward.
I pulled one card from my deck. Not a glitch card. Not a god card.
Just a simple card I'd made this morning from leftover 'Drama' and 'Flood' concepts.
[CARD: Theatrical Tsunami]
"Miri," I said, bored. "Cover your nose."
Tonight wasn't over yet. And I needed an outlet.