The velvet-lined amphitheater of the Midnight Crown Auction remained locked in a tense, breathless silence.
The heavy weight of Grant Cross’s passive Sovereign Pressure continued to hang over the room like an invisible storm cloud, pressing down on the chests of the city’s wealthiest tycoons and hidden sect representatives.
Beside him in the elite front-row VIP section, Violet Vance sat perfectly rigid.
Her manicured fingers tightly gripped the armrests of her plush seat, her knuckles turning white as she tried to regulate her breathing.
Her high-level spiritual senses were screaming at her, warning her that the man sitting casually next to her in the faded canvas jacket possessed enough condensed primordial energy to flatten the entire five-star hotel with a flick of his wrist.
Up on the central stage, the elderly auctioneer wiped a thick bead of cold sweat from his forehead.
His hands trembled as he picked up a fresh velvet display case from the secure pedestal beneath the stage lights.
He swallowed hard, his voice cracking slightly as he forced himself to speak into the microphone.
“L-Ladies and gentlemen,” the auctioneer stammered, desperately trying to pull the crowd’s focus away from the shattered titanium vault door at the back of the hall.
“We…
we shall proceed immediately to the crown jewel of tonight’s black-market catalog.
Discovered deep within an ancient, subterranean rift valley, we present the Heaven-Grade Dragon Spirit Herb.”
The moment the auctioneer snapped the silver latches of the display case open, a brilliant, pulsating wave of golden spiritual light erupted across the stage.
A dense, fragrant aroma filled the amphitheater, smelling of ozone, mountain pine, and ancient energy.
Inside the case rested a crystallized, five-leafed root that glowed with the distinct, undulating pattern of moving dragon scales.
Grant’s golden-ringed pupils narrowed instantly.
The moment the light touched his eyes, the azure system interface flashed a rapid series of diagnostics right across his field of vision.
[ SYSTEM TARGET EVALUATION: INVENTORY ACQUISITION ]
[ • Object Detected: Heaven-Grade Dragon Spirit Herb ]
[ • Energy Purity: 94.5% (Extremely Rare / Unrefined Cosmic Core) ]
[ • Evolutionary Utility: Consuming this item will grant +1,500 Primordial Dragon Qi and instantly force the Stage 3 Iron Body to its maximum boundary line.
]
[ • Base Market Evaluation: $10,000,000.00 Minimum ]
“This is exactly what I need to prepare my meridians for the Tier 2 breakthrough,” Grant thought, his expression completely expressionless as he leaned back into his velvet seat.
“The starting bid for this divine resource,” the auctioneer announced, finally regaining a fraction of his professional composure, “is fixed at fifteen million dollars.
Increments must be no less than one million.”
“Twenty million!” a sharp, arrogant voice barked from the opposite side of the VIP section.
The crowd turned to see a middle-aged man wearing traditional dark blue martial robes, a silver medallion engraved with a crescent moon hanging over his chest.
It was Elder Sect Master Ren of the Broken Moon Clan—a powerful Tier 1 (Stage 9) master who had dominated the city’s private pharmaceutical trade for over two decades.
He raised his bidding paddle with absolute confidence, glaring across the room as if daring anyone to cross his financial path.
“The Broken Moon Clan requires this herb for our grand elder’s breakthrough.
I trust the rest of the room will show proper respect.”
She didn’t look at Ren; her eyes were locked onto the stage.
As the CEO of Vance Financial, she couldn’t let a rival clan monopolize a Heaven-grade resource.
“Thirty million!” Elder Ren snapped back, his face darkening as he slammed his paddle down.
“Violet, your father may be a Grandmaster, but your corporate bank accounts cannot match the liquid gold reserves of my sect’s treasuries!”
The bidding escalated rapidly, the numbers climbing past the forty-million-dollar mark within seconds.
The ordinary billionaires in the back rows sat in stunned silence, realizing that this battle had completely transcended regular human economics.
This was a war of attrition between the city’s hidden rulers.
Grant watched the exchange with a look of absolute boredom.
When the price finally stalled at forty-eight million dollars with Elder Ren wearing a smug, triumphant grin, Grant casually raised his right hand.
He didn’t use a paddle.
He simply spoke two words into the silent hall.
“One hundred million.”
The entire amphitheater seemed to lose its gravity.
The elderly auctioneer froze, his jaw dropping open so wide his microphone picked up the sound of his sharp intake of air.
Elder Ren’s smug expression shattered instantly, his eyes bulging as his head snapped toward the man in the canvas jacket.
“One…
one hundred million dollars?!” the auctioneer whispered into the microphone, his voice echoing throughout the wall speakers.
“Sir…
do you have the verified capital to back such an unprecedented declaration?”
Elder Ren stood up from his seat, his Stage 9 internal energy flaring aggressively as his blue robes billowed around his legs.
“This is an absolute farce!
Auctioneer, this broke stray is clearly a madman who trespassed into the venue to mock our intelligence!
He doesn’t have a hundred dollars in his pocket, let alone a hundred million!
Security, drag this clown out and break his jaw!”
The remaining guards hesitated, looking at the shattered titanium door at the back of the room and remembering the raw power Grant had displayed upon entering.
Nobody moved a single inch toward the VIP section.
Grant didn’t look at Ren.
He didn’t even raise his voice.
He simply reached into the inner pocket of his faded jacket, pulled out the matte-black titanium card, and tossed it casually toward the stage.
The card spun smoothly through the air, landing with a heavy, metallic clink right beside the auctioneer’s laptop terminal.
“Swipe it,” Grant commanded calmly.
The auctioneer’s hands shook like autumn leaves as he picked up the mysterious black card.
He slid it through the high-security VIP merchant terminal, typing in the mandatory manual override amount of $100,000,000.00.
Then, a massive, brilliant green data stream erupted across the stadium’s primary display monitors, blinding the audience with its luminous glow.
[ SYSTEM TRANSACTION AUTHORIZATION ]
[ • Account Verified: Master Code Cross-001 (Sovereign Classification) ]
[ • Amount Transferred: $100,000,000.00 ]
[ • Destination: Midnight Crown Clearing Vault ]
[ • Remaining Financial Core Reserve: $396,000,000.00 ]
[ • Transaction Status: Approved.
Absolute Ownership Transferred to Host.
]
The lead auctioneer dropped to his knees behind the podium, staring at the screen in complete, unadulterated terror.
“The…
the payment cleared instantly…
No authorization delay, no credit check…
This is a Sovereign-tier Master account…”
The entire audience gasped, a wave of pure psychological shock rippling through the wealthy elite.
The man they had dismissed as a penniless slum-dweller had just dropped one hundred million dollars as if it were pocket change.
Elder Ren staggered backward into his seat, his face completely pale, his cultivation base violently fluctuating from the sheer mental trauma of the financial slap.
He had spent twenty years building his sect’s wealth, only to be utterly eclipsed by a casual gesture from a nameless youth.
Beside Grant, Violet Vance felt her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.
She slowly turned her head, her beautiful eyes wide with a mixture of fear and profound fascination as she looked at Grant’s sharp profile.
“Who…
who are you really?” Violet whispered, her ice-cold corporate demeanor completely melting away, leaving her vulnerable for the first time in her life.
“A man with your level of strength and wealth cannot possibly be a nobody in this city.”
Grant stood up from his velvet seat, the Sovereign Pressure around his body tightening as he reached out his hand.
Guided by a subtle thread of his golden Dragon Qi, the velvet display case holding the Heaven-Grade Dragon Herb floated off the stage podium, flying smoothly across the gap and settling perfectly into his palm.
He slid the rare herb directly into his inner coat pocket, where the system interface instantly transferred the item into his soul-bound Spatial Vault.
“My name is Grant Cross,” he said softly, his golden pupils flashing with a terrifying, absolute dominance as he looked down at the untouchable female tycoon.
He turned his back on the trembling high-society crowd, walking back up the carpeted aisle toward the ruined entrance.
“Tell your father, the Grandmaster, that the original king of the city has returned,” Grant’s voice resonated through the silent hall one final time before his figure blurred, vanishing into the morning light using his Phantom Step.
“And tell him to choose his side carefully before tomorrow morning.”
Chapter 9 is complete!
Grant just delivered the ultimate financial face-slap to Elder Ren and completely claimed the Heaven-Grade Dragon Herb for one hundred million dollars!
Violet Vance is officially hooked, and the entire high society now knows the name Grant Cross!
What will happen when Grant refines this herb inside his Spatial Vault?