As the final echoes of the gavel faded, the auction hall slowly stirred back to life. Low voices rose in cautious discussion, eyes glancing—some openly, some subtly—toward seat **number forty-six**.
Moments later, an attendant in dark robes approached, posture respectful but alert.
"Honored guest of seat forty-six," he said softly, hands clasped. "Please follow me to proceed with payment and receive the items you have won."
The fox gave a small nod, rising from its seat without haste. The illusion of the young boy moved smoothly with it, betraying nothing.
*Here it comes,* the fox thought. *The real test isn't the auction—it's what happens after.*
As it followed the attendant, it sent a quiet voice transmission upward.
> *Let's go. We're still inside the Heavenweight Exchange Pavilion.*
The lizard remained perched invisibly, silent, its presence suppressed so completely that even the surrounding formations failed to detect it.
They passed through a side corridor, the noise of the auction hall fading behind them. The path narrowed, walls etched with faint formation lines that pulsed gently—security, verification, and anti-theft measures layered together.
The attendant stopped before a heavy jade door marked with a discreet sigil.
"Inside is the verification chamber," he explained. "Your spirit stones will be counted, and your items will be transferred directly to you. For your safety and ours, divine sense will be restricted once inside."
The fox's lips curled slightly.
*Of course.*
It stepped forward without hesitation. The jade door slid open soundlessly.
Inside, the room was surprisingly simple: a long stone table, a counting formation embedded into its surface, and a faintly glowing transfer array at the center. Two more attendants stood within, both at the **fifth layer of Foundation Establishment**, their auras tightly restrained.
The door sealed behind them.
"Please place your spirit stones onto the formation," one attendant said calmly. "The total is eleven thousand spirit stones."
As the words **"eleven thousand spirit stones"** left his lips, the fox's steps slowed—just a fraction.
*…Different.*
It caught the nuance instantly. The attendant hadn't merely repeated the number. He had **paused** for a breath before saying it, as if confirming something unexpected.
*This auction really isn't like the last one.*
The fox let out a small, almost embarrassed chuckle, the illusion of the young boy scratching the back of his head.
"Eleven thousand?" he repeated, voice pitched with practiced surprise. "That's… quite a sum."
He shook his head lightly.
"I don't have that many spirit stones on me."
The two attendants exchanged a brief glance—measured, not hostile, but clearly attentive now.
"Just like last time," the fox continued casually, already reaching into his storage pouch, "I'll trade."
With a flicker of qi, a **separate pouch** floated out and landed on the stone table with a soft thud.
The fox tapped it once.
"Inside are **thirteen spirit tools**," he said.
"Six are **earth-grade**. The rest are **mortal-grade**, but all fully intact."
That earned a visible reaction.
One of the attendants' pupils contracted slightly.
"Earth-grade… six of them?" he asked carefully.
The fox nodded, tone light, almost dismissive.
"Picked them up along the way. I don't really need that many."
He gestured casually. "You can inspect them."
The attendant placed a hand on the pouch, sending divine sense inside.
For a moment—silence.
Then his breath hitched.
Within the pouch, the auras were clear and unmistakable: defensive tools, weapons, formation implements, all properly maintained… and none carried soul imprints.
The second attendant's expression grew serious.
"This…" he said slowly, "…more than covers the cost."
The fox tilted its head, feigning relief.
"Oh? That's good to hear. I was worried I'd need to bargain."
Inside, its mind was razor-sharp.
*So that's it.*
*They weren't surprised by the amount…*
*They were surprised I reached it at all.*
He smiled politely as the attendants began a more thorough appraisal, already feeling the subtle shift in atmosphere.
This time—he wasn't just a bidder.
He was a **variable**.
The fox kept its expression calm, almost curious—but inwardly, a sharp laugh echoed.
*Of course it more than covers the cost.*
*You really think I don't know that?*
Outwardly, the illusion's eyes blinked once, innocent.
"So," the fox asked lightly, folding its hands behind its back,
"how many **spirit stones** do I get for the tools?"
The attendants paused.
That pause told him everything.
The first attendant cleared his throat, carefully choosing his words.
"After appraisal," he said slowly, "the total value of the thirteen spirit tools comes to **fourteen thousand three hundred spirit stones**."
The fox's ears twitched—just barely.
*As expected.*
"So," the fox continued smoothly, not missing a beat,
"after deducting the **eleven thousand** for the auction items…"
He let the sentence hang.
The second attendant finished it.
"You would be owed **three thousand three hundred spirit stones**."
The fox nodded, satisfied, as if that number were merely acceptable—not generous.
The fox gave a small, thoughtful hum, as if remembering something trivial.
"Oh—right," he said casually.
From within its sleeve, it pulled out the **credit sheet token** the pavilion had issued last time. The jade surface still carried the faint Heavenweight seal, untouched.
"I'll be converting **everything** on this as well," the fox added.
"All into spirit stones."
The attendants' expressions tightened—just a fraction.
They accepted the token with both hands.
"Please wait a moment, honored guest."
The fox inclined its head and said nothing more.
---
Time passed quietly.
Behind the screen, calculations were made. Seals flared, arrays flickered, and multiple appraisers were clearly involved this time. The token had not been small before—and after today's auction, it had only grown heavier.
Finally, footsteps returned.
The attendant came back holding a **new storage pouch**—the *same one* that had previously contained the spirit tools, now emptied and cleansed.
He placed it on the table respectfully.
"After full conversion," he said carefully,
"the total value recorded on the credit sheet has been exchanged."
He slid the pouch forward.
"**Twenty-one thousand six hundred spirit stones. All converted. No remainder.**"
The fox's eyes gleamed.
*Clean. Efficient. No trouble.*
It picked up the pouch, weighing it once in its palm. The familiar density of spirit stones answered back.
"Good," the fox said, satisfied. "That will be all."
The fox rose from its seat.
Invisible above him, the lizard stayed perfectly still—but inside, its awareness sharpened.
They had walked in with schemes.
They walked out with **wealth**.
And as the fox turned to leave, only one thought crossed its mind:
*Today really was a good day.*