Standing up abruptly, nearly toppling my chair in my haste, I stare at the empty doorway.

  "Do you recognize her?" I feel Rexy’s familiar head shake against my shoulders, the movement a clear negative.

  "This way, please," Wilfred says, interrupting my thoughts.

  He leads me out of the auction house. We board a sleek vehicle—more like a futuristic, self-driving pod, really—that zips through a glass connector to another dome.

  Wilfred then ushers me into a skyscraper and up to the top floor. The doors open to reveal a vast workshop with a stunning panoramic view.

  Robots whir and click at various workstations, diligently performing tasks I can’t even begin to fathom. Why do these robots need such a luxurious workspace?

  Suddenly, I'm surrounded by robots, their scanning lights briefly sweeping over me before they return to their tasks.

  Wilfred leaves and returns with three robots pushing carts laden with dishes of food. "The preparation of your attire will require some time. Please, enjoy some lunch while you wait."

  The robots serve each course one by one, waiting for me to finish before presenting the next.

  Each dish looks like a work of art, and each portion is indeed very small. The food tastes amazing—an elaborate yet elegant combination of textures and tastes. Talk about fine dining.

  To be honest, I still like Bailey’s cooking best.

  After I sample everything, the robots clear the room, and Wilfred returns, carrying a button-like device.

  “This garment button incorporates a most remarkable advancement. Its core contains countless nanoscopic robots.”

  "Nanobots?!" I blurt out, then quickly school my expression into something resembling nonchalant acceptance. "Acceptable trade."

  This world really feels like a comic book now.

  "So… how do I use it?" I feel like a caveman walking into a mall, completely lost!

  “The interface will manifest before you upon donning the button. These nanoscopic robots possess exceptional resilience. Any that may be damaged will self-replicate for immediate repair.” Wilfred finishes, handing me the button.

  “Naturally, a master override is incorporated, as with all such devices, should any unforeseen circumstance arise,”

  Wilfred leaves the room for me to change. I strip off the fur and leather, placing the button device at the nape of my neck—a secure, secretive spot hidden by my long hair.

  A beam of light projects outwards, and an interface materializes before me.

  I’m incredibly uncertain about the fashion sense in this world. Everyone I’ve seen sports wildly different and unique outfits. I suppose it’s just a cultural thing.

  Navigating through the options, I select each individual piece of clothing, assembling a set that feels both familiar and comfortable while also blending in with the local style.

  There’s even a preset function, so I quickly whip up a couple of outfits for various potential scenarios.

  My current attire is a flowing white hooded cloak, the fabric catching the light with subtle grace. Beneath it, I wear a sleek, black long-sleeved top paired with matching white bottoms, minimal in design and patterns.

  My face is partially obscured by a dark, intricately crafted mask, adding a touch of elegance and intrigue. Mostly, it hides my glowing golden pupils.

  I’m aiming for “background character,” not “protagonist of a gritty revenge story.” I feel like I’m dressing up a character in a game.

  Nanobots—no need to worry about washing clothes or them falling apart on me again.

  Walking out of the room, I casually hand Wilfred back the shades he’d lent me, along with the hide clothes I’d removed.

  Wilfred carefully stores the hides, remarking, “You possess impeccable taste.” He then adds, “The auction is about to commence. If you would be so kind as to follow me.”

  We promptly return to the auction house and into a VIP room. The auction hall is now packed with people and robots.

  The air crackles with anticipation, a low hum of hushed conversations filling the room.

  "Our Mistress has authorized a minimum reserve of five million Adite for these pieces. Should they not achieve this valuation, she has assured me she will cover the discrepancy."

  Fi…Fi… FIVE MILLION! That’s practically my entire life savings from my past life. Adite? Is that what money is called around here?

  Trying not to let my excitement show, I maintain my carefully cultivated persona.

  A hush falls over the room. A spotlight snaps on, illuminating the center stage! And there she is, our auctioneer, beaming a smile that could melt glaciers.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to today’s extraordinary auction!” she announces, her voice ringing out clear and strong, easily cutting through the previous murmur.

  “For those unfamiliar, the rules are simple: highest bidder wins! Now, without further ado…” She gestures dramatically as a platform rises smoothly from the floor, bathed in soft, ethereal light.

  On it rests… a scroll. Just a scroll. After all that buildup, it’s just a rolled-up piece of parchment. I almost fall off my chair.

  "Behold!" the auctioneer proclaims. "Lot number one! The Words of the Harbinger! Yes, you heard right! The very knowledge bestowed upon Lord Cartier himself, five centuries ago! …”

  “This scroll, ladies and gentlemen, once held the secrets to mass production! Industrialization! … Now… let's talk bidding. We're starting this magnificent artifact at a mere 500 thousand Adite!"

  Harbinger? Mass production? Industrialization? This isn’t some dusty old spellbook; this is a blueprint for an economic revolution!

  And they got it from the Harbinger? What kind of divine being would be handing out factory blueprints?

  "500,000 I have! Do I hear 550? Yes!” The bidding heats up! “One million Adite! We've hit the million mark! Do I hear 1.1 million? … Do I hear 1.3? No? Going once! Going twice! Sold!"

  The auctioneer beams, clearly pleased with the opening sale. I watch as the scroll is whisked away, replaced by another item. This process repeats for the next couple of items.

  People here are interested in handcrafted, natural items, and antiques. Very much like Earth, rich people are only looking for rare and exotic items.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  It seems the fundamentals of wealth and collecting transcend worlds.

  "And now," the auctioneer's voice drops to a near whisper, a dramatic pause hanging in the air. The lights dim slightly, focusing on the newly risen platform.

  "Something truly… extraordinary." She gestures with a gloved hand. "A set of teeth from a 300-year-old Oroskaros."

  A hush falls over the crowd. Utter silence.

  "Authentic," she emphasizes, her voice regaining its strength, "Wild Oroskaros. This magnificent creature, sadly, passed just as these teeth were retrieved. Ensuring their… pristine condition… We'll start the bidding on this exceptional lot at… 100 thousand Adite."

  The silence is shattered by a booming voice from the crowd. "100 thousand!"

  The auctioneer's eyes gleam. "One hundred thousand! Do I hear 120? Yes! 120 thousand! ...150 thousand!"

  Another voice booms. "300 thousand!"

  The bids escalate, the room buzzing. "We've broken the million mark! The bids are flying! 1.3 million! Going once…" She raises her gavel. "Going twice…" Crack! "SOLD! For 1.3 million!"

  "The bidding is… restrained today," Wilfred comments.

  "And now… behold!" The auctioneer gestures to the next platform rising.

  This one is much larger, bearing a massive rack. Stretched upon it is…an entire hide. The fur gleams, impossibly clean and vibrant, as if the animal were still alive.

  "The complete back hide of a wild Oroskaros!" she announces, awestruck.

  "Observe the quality!… Its pristine condition. This, ladies and gentlemen, is unparalleled." She pauses, letting the crowd absorb the hide's size and splendor. "The texture… the sheen… breathtaking."

  But before she can even delve into the specifics, a voice booms from the crowd. “2 million!”

  The auctioneer's eyes widen, but she recovers quickly. "Two million! We have an opening bid of two million! Do I hear two and a half?"

  "Three million!" another voice shouts.

  "3.5 million!" comes the instant reply.

  "Three and a half million!" The bidding war ignites! "Four million! Five million! Six million!" The numbers climb astonishingly fast.

  Suddenly, a calm, measured voice echoes from a VIP box. "Ten million."

  The room falls silent. All eyes turn towards the VIP box. The auctioneer’s expression is a mixture of surprise and delight.

  “Ten million! We have ten million! A commanding bid! Ten million! Do I hear eleven?” She pauses, her gavel raised. “No? Ten million… going once…”

  Her eyes scan the crowd one last time. “Going twice…” The gavel falls with a resounding crack. “SOLD! For ten million Adite!”

  I'm completely dumbfounded by the price. I can’t help but extend my senses into the VIP box next door. A young man sits there, watching the auction while enjoying a sip of wine.

  “Master Lawrance, such a magnificent purchase,” one of his servants says to him, giving him a shoulder massage.

  Of course, trust fund baby. Thank you for your kind donation.

  Sitting there in silence, my thoughts wander. Ten million Adite… this isekai… If only everyone were here with me… memories of my loved ones wash over me again in this exciting moment.

  “Such complete hides of this exceptional quality are exceedingly rare, particularly from a creature believed extinct for nearly a millennium,” Wilfred comments.

  The last of my lot is a couple of bones. If I’d known they were worth that much, I would have kept the entire carcass.

  The bones end up auctioning for a million Adite each, netting me a couple of million more.

  The woman continues with the auction, but nothing else really catches my attention. I’m just here for the laughs now, honestly. Until…

  “And now, ladies and gentlemen,” the auctioneer announces, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper once again, “the moment you’ve all been waiting for. The grand finale.”

  “The last item of tonight’s extraordinary auction.” The lights dim, focusing solely on the rising platform. Upon it rests a single, unassuming book.

  An item that I am all too familiar with—Dr. Keyser’s notebook! I have no doubt it’s the same one. I recognize the burn mark on the cover!

  “Behold,” she proclaims, her voice ringing with excitement, “a book of forbidden secrets! But there's a catch… it must be deciphered.”

  She pauses for effect, letting the weight of her words sink in. “Authentically written by… Dr. Kurtis Keyser!”

  A collective gasp ripples through the crowd. Murmurs erupt.

  “Dr. Kurtis Keyser himself! The infamous fugitive! The brilliant mind who dared to challenge the Harbingers! The man who was hunted relentlessly… and escaped! Two hundred years ago!”

  She lets the name hang in the air. “This book… A key, perhaps, to unlocking secrets the Harbingers desperately wanted to keep buried.”

  She gestures towards the book. “Imagine the knowledge contained within these pages! But remember… it must be deciphered. Are you up to the challenge?”

  Two hundred years?! How old is that old man?! And he actually went up against the Harbingers?! My brain scrambles to catch up.

  They haven’t cracked the messy handwriting and logographic language yet, but they’re betting whatever’s inside is worth as much as a shiny new Harbinger scroll—untapped knowledge that could push humanity forward again.

  Did Bailey put this up for auction? That doesn't sound like him. He idolized Keyser. Either he's been lying to me all along, or something terrible must have happened to him.

  I quickly channel my Qi, expanding my sensory sphere to cover the entire auction hall. I try to sense Bailey, but he isn't here.

  “Who is selling this?!” I ask Wilfred, my voice a low rumble.

  Wilfred bows slightly. “With respect to client confidentiality, I am unable to divulge information regarding the seller.”

  The auctioneer's voice echoes through the hall, a mix of excitement and anticipation. "The bidding is open, ladies and gentlemen!”

  The price begins to climb, but at a more measured pace than previous items. A sense of caution hangs in the air.

  “Three million… four million… five million…” The numbers tick upward, but the pauses between bids stretch longer, each tick a drawn-out breath in the tense atmosphere.

  “If I win,” I murmur to Wilfred, “any chance of a post-auction meet-and-greet with the seller?”

  “If the seller consents,” Wilfred replies, his face a mask of professional neutrality, “then such an arrangement may be possible.”

  The auctioneer's voice continues, "Six million! Going once… going twice…"

  “Seven million!” I yell out, injecting a sudden burst of energy into the bidding.

  Lawrence’s cool, familiar voice drifts from the VIP room. “Eight million.”

  “Nine million!” I counter without hesitation.

  “Ten million.” Lawrence remains calm, but he stands up.

  The bidding war intensifies. “Eleven million!” “Twelve million!” The numbers climb rapidly, the tension in the room growing thicker with each bid.

  “Say, Wilfred,” I ask, lowering my voice conspiratorially, “hypothetically speaking, is it possible to, you know, get a little… loan from the auction house? Don’t have quite so much cash on me at the moment,” I add with a casual shrug, as if forgetting a few million is an everyday occurrence.

  Wilfred's lips curve into a subtle grin. “Our Mistress has graciously offered a line of credit up to ten million, with the most favorable terms available.”

  “Excellent!” I exclaim, my confidence surging. “Fifteen million!”

  “Sixteen million,” Lawrence responds. I can hear the distinct sound of glass cracking.

  “Eighteen million!” I counter, my voice ringing through the hall.

  Suddenly, a loud CRACK echoes through the room—the distinct sound of a table being overturned.

  “N-Nineteen million!” Lawrence calls out, clenching his teeth.

  “Twenty million,” I announce calmly, my voice steady and unwavering.

  Lawrence bursts out of the VIP box, the sound of a door slamming open echoing through the auction hall. A torrent of furious curses follows.

  Wilfred excuses himself briefly, heading off to “calm” Lawrence down.

  "Young Master Mercer," I hear him say smoothly, "such conduct is unacceptable. A further display of this nature will result in your exclusion from these premises, permanently."

  Lawrence turns around and stomps back into his room, the door slamming shut again, then collapsing back into a chair. His servants once again surround him to calm his nerves.

  Wilfred returns a moment later, his expression carefully neutral.

  The silence hangs heavy in the air after Lawrence's outburst. All eyes are fixed on the VIP box, a palpable tension gripping the auction hall. The auctioneer, however, remains professional.

  “Twenty million! We have twenty million! Twenty million… going once…” She pauses, her gaze sweeping across the room. “Going twice…” The tension in the room reaches its peak. Every breath seems to hold.

  Then, with a sharp rap of her gavel, she declares, “SOLD! For twenty million Adite! To the… esteemed bidder!”

  A ripple of murmurs goes through the crowd, a mix of awe, disbelief, and a lingering sense of unease.