The private chamber beneath Silver Phoenix Bastion's central spire was smaller than Lin Xuan had expected—intimate, almost claustrophobic. Ten booths carved into the circular wall, each sealed by heavy void-silk curtains that drank light and muffled sound. The central platform was a single raised disk of polished black jade, lit from below by a rank-nine array that pulsed slow silver. No attendants. No visible host. Only the array's genderless voice, amplified and cold.
Lin Xuan sat in Booth Ten—curtain drawn, aura suppressed to rank-four peak. The Void Cicada Egg rested in his aperture—alive, pulsing faintly, waiting. He had not bid on it yet. He was not here to win openly.
He was here to take.
The auction had already begun.
Lot One: rank-eight Void Cicada Egg.
The jade case materialized on the platform—transparent, filled with black void-liquid. Inside, the small cracked egg glowed with golden veins.
Bidding started at five hundred thousand high-grades.
It climbed—methodical, ruthless.
Six hundred.
Seven hundred.
Eight hundred.
One million.
One million two hundred thousand.
Silence.
The array's voice spoke.
"Sold to Booth Three for one million two hundred thousand high-grades."
The case vanished—delivered instantly.
Lin Xuan noted Booth Three's signature—rank-nine peak, void-path dominant, faint phoenix undercurrent. Council proxy. Expected.
Lot Two: set of rank-eight time-path refinement recipes.
Bids rose faster.
Lin Xuan bid once—quietly, anonymously—pushing to nine hundred thousand before withdrawing.
He was not here for recipes.
Lot Three: living rank-eight time-path cultivator—captured rogue, aperture sealed, body bound in void chains.
The man knelt—eyes hollow, meridians dark.
Bidding started at eight hundred thousand.
Lin Xuan bid.
One million.
Booth Three countered—one million one hundred.
Lin Xuan bid again—one million three hundred.
Pause.
Booth Three countered—one million five hundred.
Lin Xuan stopped.
He had what he needed.
The cultivator was sold to Booth Three for one million six hundred thousand.
The auction continued—minor lots, gu eggs, essence vials.
Lin Xuan waited.
At the end, the voice spoke.
"Auction concluded. All transactions complete. No disputes. No refunds."
Curtains remained closed.
No one moved.
Then—silently—booths began to empty.
Figures slipped out through private exits.
Lin Xuan waited until Booth Three's curtain parted.
A single figure emerged—tall, robed in black with faint phoenix embroidery. Rank-nine peak. Void-path qi dense enough to warp air.
Lin Xuan rose.
He followed—silent, unseen.
The figure moved through a private corridor—rank-eight concealment array masking presence.
Lin Xuan followed anyway.
The corridor ended at a hidden teleport array—rank-nine, keyed to the winner's token.
The figure stepped onto it.
Lin Xuan stepped behind—just as the array flared.
Space twisted.
They emerged together—in a private chamber beneath the city, sealed, silent.
The figure spun—void blade drawn.
"Who—"
Lin Xuan's voice cut through.
"You bought what I need."
The figure laughed—cold, mechanical.
"You think you can take it here?"
Lin Xuan raised his hand.
Fate Cicada Fragment pulsed.
Time slowed—not for the world, but for the figure.
Thirty seconds forward on his own body.
The man aged—skin tightening, qi faltering, meridians weakening.
He staggered.
Lin Xuan closed the distance.
Palm to chest.
Golden threads drank.
The man convulsed.
Then stilled.
Lin Xuan searched the corpse—quick, efficient.
The Void Cicada Egg rested in a stasis case inside the storage ring.
He took it.
He stored the ring.
He left the chamber—through the same array, back to the undercity.
No alarm.
No witnesses.
No trace.
He rode the Void Shadow Panther out of the city—north again.
The egg pulsed faintly in his aperture—alive, waiting.
Rank five initial.
One step closer.
The hunters would come.
They always did.
He would be ready.
To be continued...