Apocalypse Villainess? Nah, I'm Nice
Chapter 62 - 40: Private Room
On the way, Marcus Monroe briefly explained the auction to Paige Summers.
He was brief, but Paige Summers felt it was packed with information.
The gist of it was that ever since The Dead City was established and the situation stabilized, the Upper District would hold an auction like this periodically.
The host was, on the surface, The Dead City’s largest auction house, but it was actually run by Graham Monroe’s direct subordinates. Paige Summers guessed he didn’t get directly involved to prevent certain people from pulling strings and meddling. Whether that included Marcus Monroe and Shawn Monroe, she couldn’t say.
Moreover, Graham Monroe’s motive for holding the auctions wasn’t just to facilitate trade and stimulate the market. The more important reason, she suspected, was that the auctions were a way to gauge the strength and resources of various factions, both inside and outside the city, by observing what they bid on.
’So,’ Paige concluded with a conspiratorial flair, ’this whole auction is just a tool for the City Lord to tighten his grip on power in The Dead City!’
Just as she was getting lost in her deep thoughts, Marcus Monroe suddenly said with a deadpan expression, "Actually, you shouldn’t get your hopes up. Do you really think the best items ever make it to events like this?"
Paige Summers nodded vigorously in understanding.
’Of course not!’ she thought. ’They’ve surely been snatched up by the privileged class long ago!’
"So, just browse. Of course, if you see something you like, feel free to bid on it. Don’t worry about the price."
Paige Summers was suddenly at a loss for words.
’Is he offering to pay for me?’ she wondered. ’But hearing such a suggestive offer from Young Master Monroe, with that stone-cold face of his, is just so jarring!’
But then, Marcus Monroe continued, "Barring any surprises, your current net worth should be enough to afford the most expensive item at the auction."
’I could have coughed up blood!’
Paige Summers thought that had to be the driest joke she’d ever heard. But she had to admit, it put her more at ease. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, and people don’t just do nice things for you for no reason.
Even so, she couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed.
’That guy, Marcus Monroe,’ she fumed, ’did he do that on purpose, or did he do that *on purpose*?’
Seeing the myriad of expressions cross her face, Marcus Monroe couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes. ’Alright,’ he admitted to himself, ’I am teasing her on purpose. Her reactions are just too interesting.’ Still, he knew when to stop.
"I was joking." He cleared his throat. "I’ll cover the bill for the auction."
Paige Summers was about to refuse, but he said earnestly, "The Crossbows you made were excellent—truly stunning. Consider this a bonus for your work. Also, the incident with Shawn Monroe was my oversight. Think of this as my apology as well. I hope you don’t mind."
Now Paige Summers was both pleased and a little embarrassed.
’Of course the Crossbows were praised!’ she thought proudly.
As for Shawn Monroe finding out and coming to her, she’d thought about it later and figured he had most likely guessed it on his own. After all, the only real value she had that he could exploit was her craft.
For Marcus Monroe to apologize so formally and even offer compensation was really... But before she could say anything, the car had already stopped.
"We’re here. Let’s get out."
Paige Summers glanced at the building outside and quickly hopped out of the car.
’Oh, whatever. It’s not like I’m planning to bid on anything.’
The auction’s location was public knowledge: the backyard of the Omnia Auction House. Once she was inside, however, Paige Summers discovered that not just anyone could attend. You needed an invitation and had to pay an entry fee of Crystal Cores... ’They really know how to rake in the money!’ she thought. Furthermore, the actual auction hall had only a single entrance in the backyard, one that resembled the mouth of an air-raid shelter.
She had to admire Graham Monroe’s thorough preparations.
Holding it underground undoubtedly raised the security level significantly. Anyone trying to cause trouble from the surface would first have to get past a large number of Superpower User guards.
The "air-raid shelter" itself was also incredibly sturdy. Bathed in bright light, Paige Summers casually ran her hand along one of the walls. It was made of extremely dense stone. ’You’d probably need a whole lot of explosives to even make a dent,’ she thought. Clearly, the chances of it being breached were minuscule.
The tunnel spiraled downward for several turns before they finally arrived at the actual auction hall.
Brilliant lights illuminated the spacious hall, making it as bright as day. At the far end, an auction stage was raised slightly above the floor. For now, only a single wooden platform sat in the center, meant for displaying the items. Beside it was a projector aimed at the white wall behind it; it would undoubtedly be used to display images of the lots later on.
By this time, many of the attendees had already arrived.
They were a mix of men and women, old and young. Some of the younger guests were dressed extravagantly, and a few women even wore evening gowns—a rare sight in the apocalypse. Holding glasses of wine, they gathered in small groups, their conversations punctuated by soft laughter.