Chapter 38: Deal Closed
"One hundred million Jinis?"
That was equivalent to mortgaging a Hunter License. For a cursed eye, though not much, it was still a steep price.
Germain was slightly surprised, but a quick glance at Nion gave him a rough idea of what was going on.
Perhaps Nion's "Angel's Automatic Notebook" had predicted a certain future, and to prevent it, the Nosra family needed to buy the "Single Eye of the Lord of Crows."
Someone was willing to pay one hundred million Jinis and he was desperate for money. Even if a public auction could fetch a higher price, there was no reason to refuse.
"Alright," Germain nodded. "Once you pay, it's yours."
Seeing Germain accept so readily, Wright felt a wave of relief though a hint of doubt still lingered.
Relief, because Germain hadn't tried to raise the price; the deal seemed straightforward enough.
Doubt, because Germain had accepted too quickly perhaps the eye wasn't as valuable as it seemed.
If not for the lack of time, Wright would've investigated further. But now, he could only let it go.
Nion's prophetic poem had predicted Light's future for the next month, hinting at a tragic fate.
His daughter's safety was his top priority. He had to prevent her from withering away otherwise, the Nosra family, now on the rise, would fall, and their enemies would seize the chance to strike.
That could not happen. Light couldn't bear to imagine the fate awaiting him if he lost his daughter it was too horrible.
"Huh?"
Nion, who hadn't read the prophetic poem herself a rule meant to preserve its accuracy was unaware of its contents, and was surprised.
"Dad, did you really buy it? Didn't you say it was cursed? It's just the eye of some beast ugly and useless."
"Put it in the basement," Light said calmly, his expression softening. "The curse won't affect us."
Dazone, standing nearby, offered a timely suggestion: "Or give it to an enemy or a rival. That eyeball could cloud their minds and make them act foolishly."
"Good idea," Light nodded.
Germain silently agreed he had been the first to feel the eye's mental interference himself.
However, after carrying the Eye of the Lord of Crows for three days, he had stopped feeling its influence.
In other words, to affect the mind of a "Psychic User," the eye needed to remain nearby for at least three days; for ordinary people, likely less.
It still had many limitations after all, it had been separated from its original owner and was nothing more than a dead object now.
It was getting late. Nion, who had insisted on following her father, yawned and began to feel drowsy.
Seeing this, Light asked her a few worried questions before ordering, "Dazone, transfer the money. We should be going soon."
"Yes, boss," Dazone replied respectfully.
Light looked back at his daughter. "Nion, come on. Go rest. Don't stay up."
"Okay…" Nion dragged out her words playfully, sticking out her tongue. "I know, Dad. I'll sleep after finishing the 'Human Body Puzzle.'"
It was her latest treasure as the name implied, a puzzle made of human tissue. She planned to frame it and hang it at the entrance of her collection room.
"You…" Light chuckled helplessly a father powerless against his daughter's eccentric hobbies.
Father and daughter, surrounded by a crowd of guards, moved like a dark tide.
On behalf of the Nosra family, Dazone transferred 100 million Jinis to Germain's account and paid the auction house fees as well.
After confirming the transaction, Germain handed over the Eye of the Lord of Crows.
Clutching the crystal jar, Dazone gave it one last look before hurrying after his boss.
By the time he caught up, they were already outside the auction house.
Nion was seated comfortably in the back of a black sedan, while her father faced a bald man wearing sunglasses, surrounded by several bodyguards locked in a tense standoff.
"Wright, don't act so high and mighty!" the bald man snapped, chin raised arrogantly, pointing at Wright. "A coward who relied on his daughter to climb to the top!"
Dazone's face darkened.
He handed the jar to a guard and started forward to defend Wright but Wright stopped him with a glance.
"Stand down," Wright ordered.
"Yes, sir," Dazone replied quickly, stepping back to Wright's side, ready to protect him at any moment.
"Shanzhi," Wright said, touching the beard on his upper lip. "We all work for the 'Ten Dons,' so let's not cause trouble, alright?"
The gang leader, Shanzhi, glared at Dazone, rubbed his shining bald head sharply, and sneered:
"You were just a small-time boss before, and you clawed your way up through tricks and deception! You think you're on my level someone who's risked life and limb for the 'Ten Dons'?"
"You'd better watch your mouth." Wright clasped his hands behind his back. "You don't believe in Nion's prophecies that's your choice. But are you saying the 'Ten Dons' could be easily deceived?"
Shanzhi realized he had slipped up and spat on the ground as if to take it back.
"Fine. I can't beat you in words. But one day, the 'Ten Dons' will see your true face. When that day comes, your Nosra family will be finished."
"We'll see about that," Wright said calmly, though unease flickered beneath his composed demeanor.
"Tsk! Damn it. I'd better not see you again!"
Shanzhi clicked his tongue, snorted coldly, and led his men toward the auction house entrance.
At that moment, the revolving doors opened and Germain stepped out into the starlit street.
As Shanzhi brushed past him, he suddenly froze, turning to stare at Germain's back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"I swear I've seen that man somewhere before…"
At the same time, Wright and Dazone, standing beside the sedan, noticed too.
"Boss," Dazone whispered, "ever since meeting that seller, I've felt like I've seen him before and I just remembered where: on a wanted poster."
"A wanted poster?" Wright raised an eyebrow.
"Yes his name's Germain. He's wanted not only by the police but also by the mafia. Apparently, he once killed a small-time gang leader and might even be a member of the Phantom Troupe."
"Germain, huh…" Wright pondered for a moment. He had a vague impression of the man now, but such trivial matters usually didn't warrant his personal concern.
"What of it?"
(End of Chapter)