The young master in brocade lounged in a VIP box, his fingertips drifting carelessly from his companion's cheek to her neck. Watching the small bids rise and fall in the seats below, he curled his lip in contempt.
Impatient with the slow bidding downstairs, he lifted his chin and spoke through the box's transmission system, his voice ringing throughout the auction hall:
"5,000 Galactic coins!"
The moment the words fell, the entire hall went deathly silent!
The next second, an uproar exploded, and the place erupted!
"My God! 5,000?! He just raised it by 2,500!"
"Is he crazy? They're only Demon Fruits, not some priceless treasure. Eating one just makes you suffer. Are they worth that much?"
"What would you know? That's a big shot in the VIP section! He's definitely from a wealthy lineage. Money's no object to him!"
"It's over, it's over! Who would dare bid against him now?"
The aliens in the ordinary seats gaped in shock and stared up toward the boxes. Their whispers hummed through the hall.
Some looked envious, some resentful, while others simply lowered their number cards in defeat.
After all, that price had already exceeded what any of them could afford.
The few people who had been bidding moments ago went deathly pale. Their lips trembled, but in the end, they couldn't utter a word. They slumped back into their seats, dejectedly abandoning the competition.
Every gaze in the hall turned toward the VIP boxes on the top floor, brimming with awe and flattery.
The young master in brocade took in everyone's shock, envy, and fear. He puffed out his chest slightly, his smugness practically spilling from his face.
He tilted his head back and chuckled, tightening his arm around his companion. His expression was unbearably arrogant.
What could he do?
In