The digital architecture of the Inner City Logistics Auction House was a masterpiece of corporate excess. While the Lower Academy cadets scrounged for scrap on laggy, text-based terminals, the VIP auction network was a fully immersive, hard-light virtual reality construct.
Inside Workshop Unit 73, the physical world faded away as Chen Xi slotted Aria Vance’s encrypted datastick into his modified console. He didn't use a clunky VR headset; Sylphe simply tapped directly into his optic nerves, overlaying the virtual auction house seamlessly over his vision.
"I am routing our connection through seventeen decentralized proxy servers across the Lumina Syndicate and the outer colonies," Sylphe’s voice echoed, cold and professional. In the virtual space, she materialized beside him, wearing a sharp, tailored black suit that mirrored the corporate aesthetic around them. "To the Academy overseers, you are asleep in your dorm. To the Auction House security grid, we are 'Ghosthand', an eccentric, high-tier corporate scavenger operating from a deep-space mining rig."
"Keep the biometric spoofing active," Chen Xi replied. In the virtual construct, he didn't appear as a scrawny teenager in a grey uniform. He manifested as a towering, featureless silhouette shrouded in digital static—a standard privacy avatar for the ultra-wealthy who didn't want their identities tracked.
They stood on a virtual balcony overlooking a massive, amphitheater-like bidding floor. Below them, the avatars of Earth’s corporate elites, syndicate bosses, and high-ranking military quartermasters mingled.
Millions of Pan-Asian Credits changed hands every second. Chen Xi watched passively as a crate of pristine Class-4 Plasma Rifles sold for sixty thousand credits, followed by a territorial mining deed for a small asteroid in the Kuiper Belt that went for two hundred thousand.
"Corporate garbage," Chen Xi muttered, leaning against the virtual railing. "They're fighting over mass-produced toys. Show me the restricted listings, Sylphe."
"Accessing the 'Anomalous Salvage' catalog," Sylphe replied, her golden eyes flashing with streams of data. "These are items recovered from deep-space ruins or high-tier cosmic beast lairs. The corporate engineers couldn't reverse-engineer them, so they auction them off to private collectors."
A holographic menu expanded in front of Chen Xi.
[Item 402: Corrupted Leviathan Bone-Marrow] - Current Bid: 15,000 Credits
[Item 405: Incomplete Plasma-Dreadnought Thruster Schematic] - Current Bid: 80,000 Credits
Chen Xi scrolled past them. He had raw materials and the Origin Forge. He didn't need half-broken engines or dead bones. He needed something that would push his Dual-Class synergy to the next level.
Then, his eyes locked onto Item 412.
[Item 412: Heavily Encrypted Old Era Neural-Bridge (Damaged)]
Description: Recovered from a submerged ruin in the Pacific Dead Zone. The structural housing is crushed, and the logic gates are fused. Corporate assessment deems the internal architecture 89% corrupted. Useful only for rare-alloy salvage.
Current Bid: 5,000 Credits.
"Chen Xi..." Sylphe’s voice suddenly hitched, losing her composed corporate persona. She floated closer to the hologram, her virtual hands trembling slightly as she examined the 3D rendering of the crushed metallic helmet. "That is not an 'Old Era Neural-Bridge.' That is a Primordial Synapse-Cowl. It was designed to let a single organic mind pilot a multi-kilometer starship without suffering neurological burnout."
Chen Xi’s heart rate spiked, though his avatar remained perfectly still.
Currently, his [Machine Empathy] allowed him to control Wraith and Iron-Maw through his Kinetic Qi. But if he wanted to build a massive, rideable Mecha in the future—something capable of fighting Transcendent-tier beasts in the vacuum of space—his human brain wouldn't be able to process the sensory feedback of a fifty-foot metal body. He would fry his own nervous system.
"Can the Origin Forge repair it?" Chen Xi asked.
"The housing is destroyed, but the core synthetic-neurons are intact," Sylphe confirmed eagerly. "If we win it, I can extract the neural-weave and integrate it directly into your own central nervous system using Dr. Sera's cellular serums. It will permanently expand your processing bandwidth. You won't just pilot machines, Chen Xi. You will become them."
"Place a bid," Chen Xi commanded. "Ten thousand."
The numbers on the listing flickered. [Bid Accepted: Ghosthand - 10,000 Credits]
For a moment, nothing happened. The corporate elites were ignoring the "junk." But then, a red counter-bid flashed across the screen.
[Bid Accepted: Anonymous_77 - 25,000 Credits]
Chen Xi frowned. "Someone else recognizes what it is."
"Tracing the origin of Anonymous_77," Sylphe said, her eyes narrowing. A second later, she sneered. "It's not a scavenger. It's a proxy buyer for the Lin Family. Yuxuan's uncle, specifically. They oversee the Elite Mecha Division. They probably want to melt it down to study the rare alloys."
"The Lin Family," Chen Xi mused. He remembered the arrogant Elite students. He remembered the millions of credits sitting comfortably in his account from Zhao Ming's corpse.
"Crush them," Chen Xi said coldly. "Fifty thousand."
[Bid Accepted: Ghosthand - 50,000 Credits]
There was a pause. The Lin Family proxy hesitated, clearly baffled as to why someone was throwing fifty thousand credits at a broken helmet. But corporate pride was a powerful motivator.
[Bid Accepted: Anonymous_77 - 75,000 Credits]
Chen Xi didn't even blink. "One hundred and fifty thousand."
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The virtual amphitheater suddenly went completely silent. Heads turned toward the digital readout. One hundred and fifty thousand Pan-Asian Credits was enough to buy a fully equipped combat transport shuttle. Bidding it on a piece of corrupted, unrecognizable junk was either absolute madness or a massive flex of untouchable wealth.
In a high-rise suite in the Inner Spire, the Lin Family proxy cursed loudly, slamming his fist onto his desk. His absolute limit for anomalous salvage was one hundred thousand. He couldn't justify spending more without risking his position. He angrily closed the bidding window.
[Lot 412 SOLD to Ghosthand for 150,000 Credits]
"Transaction complete," Sylphe announced, her avatar clapping her hands in delight. "The physical item will be securely routed through Aria Vance’s blind-drops and delivered to Unit 73 by tomorrow night. Chen Xi, the Lin Family proxy is currently trying to run a trace on our IP."
"Let him try," Chen Xi laughed softly, disconnecting from the auction house.
The digital world collapsed, and Chen Xi found himself back in the cramped, grease-stained reality of his workshop. He pulled the datastick from the console.
"We spent a third of our liquid capital on a broken helmet," Chen Xi said, stretching his arms, feeling the dense, powerful hum of his tempered muscles.
"We spent a third of Zhao Ming's capital," Sylphe corrected, her Solid-State projection materializing to sit on the edge of his desk. "And it is the final piece of the puzzle. Once we integrate that Synapse-Cowl, you will be ready to forge your first true Mecha suit."
"Just in time," Chen Xi noted, glancing at the digital clock on the wall. It read 06:00 AM.
Outside, the massive, booming Academy broadcast system crackled to life. A grand, militaristic anthem echoed across the entire campus, vibrating through the ferrocrete walls of the slums and the glass spires of the Inner City alike.
"Attention all Cadets. The Annual Elite Combat Qualifiers officially begin today at 0800 hours. All logistical personnel report to your assigned maintenance bays. May the strongest ascend."
Chen Xi stood up, grabbing his grey logistics jacket.
He wasn't fighting today. He didn't need to. He was going to stand in the maintenance bays, holding a wrench, watching the elites tear each other apart. He was going to watch Lin Yuxuan swing the Aether-Pulse Eclipse and shatter the illusions of her rivals.
"Let's go to work, Sylphe," Chen Xi smiled, his eyes cold and sharp. "I want front-row seats to our weapon's debut."