Qing Chen had committed suicide and deleted his account.
Only FFF, with his sturdy, innocent-looking face, remained in the crowd. Everyone's eyes turned to him and the lightsaber in his hand.
If that Light of the White Race deleted his account, then this lightsaber would become a swan song. Together with the two combat videos online and that one story, it would become the final masterpiece of an artwork.
There would never be another one.
"Sell me your lightsaber. I'll pay 50,000!"
"I'll pay 80,000!"
FFF watched everyone warily. "I'm not selling. This lightsaber is too valuable!"
"I'll pay 200,000!" said a plainly dressed Black man in the crowd.
Everyone looked over, and instantly understood. This Black man had to be a slave from the Western Continent's real world, working in the Superconducting World for his master.
And now, the slave master behind him had made a remote bid!
FFF shook his head. "No, 200,000 is still too low. It's already out of print!"
The next second, another Black man said, "I'll pay 268,800! You can't refuse that price. Combat Master Thunder's first signed weapon only goes for that much, and Master Thunder has been improving all along. He only reached his current price after becoming an S-Class master. That Light of the White Race was impressive, but the problem is that his combat abilities will forever remain at F-Class. Exquisite as they may be, they're still only F-Class." Package
FFF fell into thought, seemingly moved by the price. "Any higher bids?"
No one in the crowd answered. In the end, he looked at the Black man. "Deal!"
The two did not make the transaction on the spot. Instead, they went to an ATM before shaking hands.
With the clattering sound of money, cash flowed through their clasped hands.