The moment the words fell.
Starting bids lit up one after another on the Soul Tool crystal screens like bamboo shoots after rain.
Yellow numbers, purple numbers, and black numbers burst forth almost simultaneously, densely filling the screens with bids in all three colors.
The bidding records changed so fast that they were impossible to follow. The instant one number appeared, it was overtaken by a higher price the next second, leaving no time to see who had placed the bid.
In just a few seconds.
The price of the Dragon Core soared from its starting bid of twenty million Gold Soul Coins to over thirty million, and it was still climbing without pause.
Twenty-one million.
Twenty-five million.
Twenty-eight million.
Thirty-one million.
Thirty-five million.
Forty million!
Every refresh of the numbers drew a wave of stifled gasps from the auction hall.
The ordinary bidders in the public area had become mere spectators. This price had long surpassed what they could afford, and they could only crane their necks at the astronomical figures climbing across the screen, clicking their tongues in amazement.
Feng Qingyang sat on the sofa in the Black-Class Waiting Room, watching the frantically changing numbers on the crystal screen. Even the corner of his mouth twitched.
That price really was enough to make him back away.
Leaning against the sofa, he lightly tapped the armrest with his slender knuckles. The light in his teal phoenix eyes flickered as he silently calculated his assets.
He did have a little money, and after killing Xuan Zi, he had also found quite a few good things on him.
But those good things were all foods beneficial to cultivation—century-old spirit fruits, ten-thousand-year soul beast meat, rare medicinal dishes, and the like.
Leaving aside how much they were worth, even if Feng Qingyang