The Mittel Auction House

The wooden door was pressed firmly shut behind him, a heavy table leg wedged against it to isolate him completely from the outside world.

Su Chen leaned his back against the cold door panel and slowly slid to the floor.

His entire body felt like a drowning victim pulled from deep water; his chest heaved violently, and every breath sent a searing, fiery pain through his lungs.

The exhaustion of surviving a brush with death washed over his nearly shattered nerves like a cold, relentless tide.

His legs were still trembling uncontrollably.

The room was deathly silent.

Yet, the cold voices of those two men in black seemed to still echo within the stillness.

"Hand over all the flames you have, and... the method to obtain them."

They were not after those twenty gold coins.

What they wanted was the secret behind the production of the Rock Fire Seed.

The Jialie Clan.

Su Chen could not think of anyone else who would do this.

A bone-chilling cold rose from his tailbone, instantly spreading through his entire body.

This time, relying on his familiarity with the terrain and a bit of luck, he had managed to crawl out of a dog hole in a pathetic escape.

But what about next time?

Since the other party had already locked onto his identity, the next ones to arrive would likely not be two low-level Dou Masters, but true powerhouses capable of leveling this entire slum to the ground.

He had nowhere to run.

The joy and hope brought by his first pot of gold were, at this moment, completely shattered by the cold and cruel reality.

He was too weak.

So weak that, in this small border city, he didn't even have the qualifications to harbor a treasure.

Su Chen slowly raised his head, scanning the dilapidated and cramped room.

On the damp walls, moss spread like hideous scars.

The air was thick with the musty smell of poverty and despair.

This was not his sanctuary.

This was his cage, and his grave.

The path of running a street stall was completely blocked.

To appear in the market again would be no different than walking straight into a trap.

Was he really going to sit here, guarding these nine bottles of flames that could change his fate, waiting for death to arrive in this wretched shack?

No.

Su Chen gritted his teeth hard.

His fingernails dug deep into his palms, the sharp pain helping his consciousness, which had been scattered by fear, to coalesce once more.

He could not sit and wait for death.

Cowering would only lead to a dead end.

Taking the initiative was his only glimmer of hope.

The old blacksmith's words flashed like lightning in the dark, illuminating his dim thoughts once again.

"Go to the Alchemist Guild in the city center, or... go to the Mite'er Auction House."

"That is where it belongs."

Su Chen stood up and began to pace back and forth in the narrow space.

The wooden floorboards creaked under the strain, as if providing a soundtrack to his agitation.

The Mite'er Auction House.

In the memories of his predecessor, this name represented absolute wealth, strict rules, and unfathomable power.

It was a true behemoth in Wutan City, an existence that even the three great clans had to defer to.

It was said that the Mite'er Family behind it was a commercial giant that ranked among the top in the entire Jia Ma Empire.

If he, a penniless boy with no power, no status, and not even a shred of Dou Disciple energy, were to show up with a bottle of flame that appeared out of nowhere, would they even look at him?

Would he even be able to step through those magnificent, golden doors before being shooed away by the guards like a fly?

Or even...

A more terrifying thought emerged in his mind.

Once they saw the value of the Rock Fire Seed, would they simply kill him to seize the treasure, playing a double-cross?

The fear of the Mittal Auction House, that unknown behemoth, warred fiercely in his heart against the fear of the Jialie Clan, a wolf that had already bared its fangs.

One was a known, encroaching death.

The other was an unknown abyss that could lead to rebirth or destruction.

Su Chen's footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

He walked over to the table with the missing leg and took a small cyan jade bottle from a wooden box.

He pulled out the stopper.

A ball of orange-red flame rose silently, dispelling the chill in the room.

The flame was gentle and steady, pure without a single impurity.

It burned quietly, like a piece of ignited warm jade, radiating a comforting temperature.

Su Chen's gaze was locked onto this perfect creation he had "forged" with his own hands.

This was his trump card.

It was also his only bargaining chip.

He reached out and gripped the jade bottle in his palm.

The warm sensation seeped through his skin into his cold blood, driving away the chill that originated from the depths of his soul.

He recalled a saying from his past life.

Risk and reward are always directly proportional.

To gain protection, one must demonstrate value worth protecting.

To converse with the strong as equals, one must produce chips that even the strong cannot ignore.

Cowering and shrinking away would only lead to being devoured until not even bones remained.

Gamble!

Use these ten bottles of Rock Fire Seed to bet on a future!

Bet that the Mittal Auction House, as a commercial giant, would value its reputation over the secrets of a nobody like him.

Bet that they had a broader vision and would choose cooperation over killing the goose that lays the golden eggs!

Once this thought took shape, it spread like a wildfire, instantly burning away all the hesitation and cowardice in his heart.

Su Chen's breathing became steady and powerful.

His eyes, which had been dim with fear, reignited with light.

It was a light of absolute determination, the resolve of one who burns his bridges to survive.

He no longer hesitated.

He opened all the jade bottles on the table one by one, inspecting them carefully.

Although every replica was identical, he still used a nearly harsh eye to select the one he deemed most perfect and stable in its burning.

Then, he rummaged from under the bed a slightly better wooden box he had bought with his remaining money.

The box was made of black wood, lined with a layer of soft red velvet.

He placed the cyan jade bottle containing the Rock Fire Seed into the box with extreme care, as if placing a rare treasure.

The remaining nine bottles were wrapped in rags and hidden beneath a loose floor tile in the corner of the courtyard.

One must not put all their eggs in one basket.

After finishing this, he walked to the dilapidated water vat in the corner.

The murky water reflected a young face covered in dust and exhaustion.

He splashed his face hard with cold water.

The icy stimulation made him completely clear-headed.

He changed into the only relatively clean set of clothes he owned; although washed until faded, it at least had no holes.

He carefully smoothed out the collar and rolled up the cuffs.

The mirror-like, murky