47
A voice rose from the front rows of the auction hall.
Everyone turned to see a young sailor wearing a brown headscarf, the cuffs of his gray shirt worn fuzzy.
He dared bid against the second floor? Whispers washed over the seats like a tide.
"Ten billion."
The voice from the second floor descended again.
The auction hall instantly fell into a silence as deathly as the deep sea. Even the sound of breathing vanished.
Then-
"Ten billion and ten thousand."
The sailor sounded as calm as if he were quoting the price of fish.
Seats creaked.
Several pirate captains had already hunched their backs, their heels quietly turning toward the exits.
A dangerous presence began seeping through the cracks in the floor, carrying the smell of rust and rotten wood.
"One hundred billion."
When the voice from the second floor rang out a third time, death had already crawled up the back of everyone's neck.
Three long seconds.
"...One hundred billion and ten thousand."
The instant the sailor spoke the number, Rossi closed his eyes.
The mystery was solved.
On the second floor.
Rossi's fingers rested on the sword hilt at his waist.
The cold touch of Sandai Kitetsu reached him through the leather, like a snake lying dormant.
His gaze did not shift, yet he clearly sensed the presence of the man beside him-the man sitting among a flock of colorful parrots, called a "legend."
That man.
"What do you think,"
Rossi began, his voice so level that no emotion could be heard, "would be a suitable price?"
Ridiculous.
There might truly be powers on this sea that could casually throw away a hundred billion, but a sailor certainly was not one of them.
Even for the Celestial Dragons living atop the Red Line, this figure far