But beneath the raised platform, chaos had already erupted.
"Thirty million Gold Soul Coins!"
A warm voice suddenly rang out from a private room on the second floor.
Sect Master Ning Fengzhi of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect could no longer maintain his usual composure and elegance.
"The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect offers thirty million Gold Soul Coins!"
"Plus two Top-Grade Spirit Bones, each fifty thousand years old!"
Boom!
Ning Fengzhi's words sent a wave of sharp gasps through the hall.
As expected of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, reputed to be the wealthiest sect on the continent. They were throwing money around like it was nothing!
With that Hundred Thousand Year Soul Bone, along with Sword Douluo and Bone Douluo, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's power would surely soar to a terrifying new level!
However, before Ning Fengzhi's words had even faded, Prince Xue Xing of the Tiandou Empire slammed his hand on the table and sprang to his feet, eyes bloodshot.
"Sect Master Ning, your Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect wants to keep such a treasure all to yourselves? That's an awfully big appetite!"
Prince Xue Xing shouted, his whole body of fat trembling with him.
"The Heaven Dou Imperial Family offers forty million Gold Soul Coins!"
"Plus any three treasures of heaven and earth from the Tiandou Royal Treasury!"
At his side, Crown Prince Xue Qinghe's eyes flashed with a faint, hidden sneer.
As Qian Renxue, a spy from Spirit Hall, she was naturally delighted to see the Tiandou Empire's treasury emptied.
Xue Qinghe rose at just the right moment and said loudly:
"My uncle is right!"
"Haotian Douluo Tang Hao is a wanted criminal of the empire. The Hundred Thousand Year Soul Bone on him should rightfully be taken into the custody of the Heaven Dou Imperial Family!"
Yet just as the Tiandou Empire's representatives spoke, a burly, scar-faced man on the right side of the hall—draped in a white tiger cloak—kicked the table in front of him to pieces.
"What's the Tiandou Empire worth? How dare you spout such nonsense here!"
A razor-sharp killing intent radiated from the man. He was clearly a battle-hardened general.
"The Star Luo Empire offers fifty million Gold Soul Coins!"
"Plus two medium-sized iron ore veins!"
Hiss!
They'd gone mad! Completely mad!
For Tang Hao, lying half-dead on the ground, and for that Hundred Thousand Year Soul Bone—
The two great empires, Spirit Hall, and the Upper Three Sects!
These colossal powers, usually towering above all others and ruling the fate of the entire continent, were now actually bidding against one another.
At the edge of the platform, Tang San was pinned to the ground by two servants. His eyes were bloodshot with fury.
"No! Please, no!"
Tang San stared at his father, who was being bid on like livestock.
He heard the figures climbing higher and higher, heard those people openly discussing how they would carve his father's bones out, one by one.
The feeling was driving Tang San to the brink of collapse.
Suddenly, as if struck by an idea, he whipped around to look at the Shrek people not far away.
"Teacher! Dean Flender! Teacher Zhao!"
"Save my father! Please, save him!"
"Offer money! Drive the price down and buy my father back!"
"I, Tang San, swear I'll work like an ox or a horse for the academy from now on. I'll pay you back tenfold, a hundredfold!"
Hearing Tang San's pleas, Flender, standing in the corner, went pale.
Offer money?
What was he supposed to pay with?
Shrek Academy was so poor they could barely afford food. Everything Flender had saved over his entire life wouldn't even amount to a fraction of the spare change someone tossed out with a single bid!
Fifty million Gold Soul Coins? Iron ore veins? Top-Grade Spirit Bones?
Those astronomical figures existed only in legends. What did they have to do with him?
"Xiao San, I..."
After a long silence, Flender could only shut his eyes in pain, not daring to look at Tang San.
Zhao Wuji gritted his teeth, trembling all over, yet he didn't dare utter a word.
In a place where only money and power could make themselves heard, they were two Soul Saints who weren't even worthy of serving as stepping stones.
Seeing Flender and Zhao Wuji fall silent, Tang San, not far away, was on the verge of breaking down.
He spun around to face the teacher he revered most, Yu Xiaogang, the so-called greatest theoretical master under heaven.
"Teacher! Say something, teacher!"
"Didn't you come from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan? Go beg Sect Master Yu to help us!"
At Tang San's cries, Yu Xiaogang's old face flushed a liverish purple.
Trembling, he looked at Tang San on the ground, then at Yu Yuanzhen nearby, bidding furiously with bloodshot eyes.
Beg? What could he possibly beg with?
He was a useless outcast from the clan. Was he supposed to run over and ask the sect master to spend tens of millions of Gold Soul Coins to save Tang Hao, a complete stranger?
Yu Yuanzhen would probably slap him dead on the spot!
"Xiao San, your teacher... your teacher has no money..."
Yu Xiaogang's lips quivered for a long while before he finally forced out those words.
The moment he heard them, Tang San fell into utter despair.
No money?
This was the teacher he had always been so proud of?
This was Shrek Academy, the place he had pinned all his hopes on?
In the face of true desperation, before these mighty powers, Tang San and the Hidden Weapons and theories he had always been so proud of were laughable—like rats in a sewer.
What greatest theoretical master under heaven? What Immovable Bright King!
They were all a bunch of useless cowards, too gutless to even speak up!
He hated Su Chen!
He hated the devil who had trampled him and his father underfoot!
But he hated even more these so-called great powers, watching coldly from the sidelines or kicking them while they were down, and this bunch of useless teachers!
Just then, Tang Hao, dumped in the middle of the platform like a lump of mud, slowly opened his eyes.
His Soul Power had been crippled, but his senses as a Titled Douluo remained.
The frenzied bidding and his son's broken sobs came to him in snatches, filling him with agony.
"Spirit Hall offers sixty million!"
"The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect offers seventy million!"
Hearing these forces—the very ones he'd once smashed into silence with a single hammer—compete for his flesh and blood as if they were buying and selling livestock, Tang Hao felt utterly humiliated.
On the raised platform, Su Chen continued to hold his teacup, watching it all with an indifferent expression.
The bids had already soared to an utterly outrageous level.
Yue Guan of Spirit Hall had gone red-eyed, ready to drain even the branch hall's coffers.
Clap!
Su Chen set down his teacup, abruptly picked up the Gavel, and struck it hard against the table.
The sharp crack instantly cut off everyone's frenzied bidding.
The hall fell silent.
Everyone stared at Su Chen with bloodshot eyes, panting as they waited for the mysterious proprietor to announce who had won.
But Su Chen's gaze swept over Yue Guan, Ning Fengzhi, and the others.
"Everyone."
"You think a few tens of millions' worth of scrap metal can buy the life of a Titled Douluo and a Hundred Thousand Year Soul Bone?"
"Do you think I, Su, am short of a few common coins?"
At his words, everyone in the hall froze. Ning Fengzhi's brows knitted tightly at once.
He didn't want money?
Then what did he want?
"Mr. Su, just tell us what you want!" Yue Guan said through clenched teeth, his voice sinister.
Su Chen slowly rose to his feet.
He didn't even glance at Tang Hao on the ground. Instead, his gaze passed over the crowd and settled on the blue-robed woman wearing a bamboo hat at the very back of the hall.
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