Manipulative Harem God-Chapter 536: Fighting already? Brother is mighty!
The Phoenix Auction Hall continued to buzz with excitement, though most of the buzz came from disbelief rather than anticipation.
With Zhang Wei and his entourage now firmly holding the crowd's attention, even Jiang Yueqing's usual flair seemed slightly overshadowed.
Still, bring the professional, even after getting ignored by Bother Zhang — she continued with a pout, introducing the next 'priceless' treasure.
"Honored guests," Jiang Yueqing began, her smile never diminishing, "the next item is truly one-of-a-kind—a relic from an ancient battlefield, passed down through generations of elite warriors."
A collective breath was held as the curtains were pulled back to reveal… an old, rusted sword.
It sat awkwardly on a velvet cushion, its surface pitted and corroded as if it had been left outside during monsoon season.
The hilt, wrapped in what appeared to be fraying twine, looked as though it might disintegrate if anyone dared to touch it. The auction hall fell into a momentary silence, followed by a few hesitant murmurs.
"Is that… a broken sword?"
"Looks like something you'd find at a flea market…"
Jiang Yueqing, unphased, gestured to the relic as if unveiling a masterpiece. "This, esteemed guests, is none other than the Dragon Slayer Sword! Legends say it was wielded by the great General Bai hundreds of years ago, forged in the fires of the celestial heavens themselves! Though it may have seen better days, it still holds immense power—for those bold enough to unlock it."
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Up in the Gu Sect's VIP box, Elder Gu Sheng raised a thin, skeptical eyebrow. "Dragon Slayer? More like… rusted butter knife."
He chuckled to himself, earning confused looks from his disciples, who weren't sure whether to laugh or be offended on his behalf.
Gu Qing, one of his eager young disciples, squinted at the sword. "Master, is it truly a relic? Could it still hold power?"
Gu Sheng rolled his eyes. "Only if you're looking to tetanus your enemies to death. Save your money for something that won't fall apart the moment you touch it."
____
In the Midnight Shadow's VIP box, where a group of wealthy moguls with minor cultivation talent sat puffing on cigars, their sect leader, Elder Zhu Wei, stroked his beard thoughtfully.
His sharp, calculating eyes scanned the stage below, where the rusty Dragon Slayer Sword sat on display.
"An antique sword, eh?" Zhu Wei mused aloud. "Even if it's just a rusty old relic, some fool collector would pay good money for that."
The atmosphere in their box was one of indifference, as though the entire auction was beneath them. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
But Zhu Wei was a man who knew opportunity when he saw it.
If there was profit to be made, he wasn't above dabbling in the absurd.
Meanwhile, chaos erupted in the general seating area.
A man, red-faced and wobbling from too much alcohol, pointed accusingly at the stage. "Are you kidding me? That's a reject from some second-hand antique store!" he slurred, struggling to stand upright. "I've seen better craftsmanship on kitchen knives!"
Next to him, another equally inebriated man puffed his chest out in defiance. "Dragon Slayer, huh? It's got 'dragon' in the name! Gotta be worth something!" He raised his hand in a shaky gesture. "I'll… I'll give you ten thousand for it!"
In VIP Box 1, Long Tian, lounging lazily with his arm draped over the side of his chair, smirked at the uproar.
He straightened slightly, his fingers tapping a rhythm against the armrest. "One hundred thousand," he called out, his voice casual but commanding.
Hiss!
The hum in the room shifted as the hall quieted down, all eyes turning toward him.
Zhang Wei, sitting comfortably in VIP Box 2, raised an eyebrow in amusement.
His gaze flickered toward his companions—Tang Lifen and Chu Yaoyao—who both had dubious looks on their faces.
Tang Lifen, her arms crossed, scoffed. "Dragon Slayer Sword? What dragons were they fighting? Chickens?"
Chu Yaoyao chuckled, her voice like chimes in the air. "I bet the next item will be worse."
Zhang Wei leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening as he patted Tang Lifen lightly on the back. The gesture caught her by surprise, and she turned to him, her cold demeanor softening for a moment.
"Bet for it," Zhang Wei said casually, his voice tinged with amusement.
Tang Lifen blinked but nodded, understanding the game at play. She sat up straighter and cleared her throat. "Two hundred thousand dollars," she called out, her voice strong and clear.
"What!?"
The crowd gasped.
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A hundred thousand had already seemed outrageous, but two hundred thousand for the rusted relic left them dumbfounded.
"..."
Long Tian's smirk faltered, and a frown creased his brow as his gaze snapped to VIP Box 2. His fingers stilled, and his eyes narrowed. "So, he wants to play, huh?"
He leaned back, trying to maintain his composure, but frustration simmered beneath the surface.
He hadn't expected a challenge over something as trivial as this sword.
Beside him, Chen Xiaoyu, her silver eyes gleaming coldly, noticed his irritation. "Don't get worked up over a junk sword, Brother Tian," she said quietly. "It's not worth it."
Long Tian clenched his jaw but forced a calm smile. "I know..."
Still, Long Tian wasn't one to back down easily, and the competitive spark between him and Zhang Wei began to flare up.
"Three hundred thousand dollars," he called out, his tone just a touch sharper than before.
In VIP Box 2, Tang Lifen's eyes gleamed with icy fire as she immediately countered. "Four hundred thousand."
From the Gu Sect's VIP Box 3, Elder Gu Sheng chuckled softly. His disciple, Gu Qing, leaned forward eagerly. "Master, should we join?"
Elder Gu Sheng stroked his beard, amused by the rising stakes. "No, let them play. We'll keep watching. This is far more entertaining than I expected."
The mortals and low-level warriors below were in complete shock, many unable to fathom why the VIPs were bidding so much on what was clearly a worthless item.
But their confusion only fueled the excitement.
Some even tried to place their own bids, convinced there had to be something they were missing. Each bid from the lower seats was quickly and mercilessly crushed by the VIPs, who turned the bidding war into a spectacle.
From VIP Box 5, Elder Zhu Wei of the Midnight Shadow sect watched with amusement. "Five hundred thousand," he called out lazily, deciding to join the fun, if only to see how far the others would go.
"What...? Another one?"
Back in VIP Box 1, Long Tian's frustration was growing. He clenched his fist, his composure slipping as he glared toward Zhu Wei's box. "Seven hundred thousand," he nearly growled, his voice losing its earlier calm.
Zhang Wei leaned forward, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Let him keep bidding," he murmured to Tang Lifen, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I have no interest in this sword. Let him burn his money."
Tang Lifen, understanding his intent, smirked. "No further bids," she said aloud, leaning back with satisfaction.