(4/4)
Lucky Cruise
Chapter 558: Auction
Leaving the bathroom, Wen Jianyan returned to the cramped cabin.
Compared to the morning, the air now was noticeably damper, dense enough to be suffocating.
“…”
Wen Jianyan lifted his head and looked at the ceiling above.
On the ceiling of the cabin, faint cracks were visible, and water was seeping down from above, soaking the ceiling.
By the looks of it, Floor B9 wouldn’t last much longer either.
It was probably just a matter of time before this room fell.
Wen Jianyan paused for a moment, withdrew his gaze, and turned to leave the cabin.
He arrived at the elevator entrance.
The elevator opened with a ding in front of him, spilling blood-red light out. The waiter’s bloodless face smiled at him. “Which floor are you heading to next?”
Wen Jianyan stepped into the elevator. “Floor B7.”
There was still some time before the auction officially started, but he felt it necessary to arrive early this time; that corridor held other secrets he needed to explore.
As with countless times before, the waiter pressed the elevator button, and the elevator slowly ascended.
Soon, they arrived at Floor B7.
However, before Wen Jianyan could leave the elevator, the waiter’s voice came from behind him.
“Sir, tip.”
What?
Wen Jianyan was startled and turned to look back.
Behind him, the waiter wore a wide smile on his face, eyes fixed tightly on him. Deep within those pitch-black pupils, a greedy and desperate light flickered.
Almost at the same moment.
Every anchor on the Lucky cruise ship who relied on the elevators to travel up and down encountered the same situation as Wen Jianyan.
“What? Are you crazy?!”
Anchors who had already gambled until their eyes were red in the casino, thinking about how they still hadn’t secured their room fees for the night, had slightly twisted expressions.
“A hundred thousand tip? Just for taking an elevator up and down? Why don’t you just go rob someone!”
One hundred thousand.
This was not a small sum.
Especially for anchors who were already approaching madness under the extreme exploitation of the instance, this number was unbearably high.
Just then, the elevator doors slowly opened, revealing the familiar lobby before them.
“…” Wen Jianyan looked deeply at the waiter for a moment. Finally, under the other party’s greedy gaze, he took his hand out of his pocket and flicked his fingers.
With a ding, a chip was tossed out, landing precisely in the waiter’s hand.
Having received the tip, the smile on the waiter’s face instantly became eager.
“Please watch your step, and welcome back anytime.”
Staring at the familiar lobby before them, almost without needing to think, the anchors knew what was best for their current selves.
Seeing that the other party had no intention of stopping them, they lunged forward with difficult-to-track agility, rushing out of the elevator without looking back.
No one saw that behind them, the smile on the waiter’s pale face completely vanished. A pair of hollow eyes stared straight at them, as if waiting for something.
The next second, the anchors who had rushed out of the elevator seemed to sense something.
“?!”
They were horrified, their smiles frozen on their faces at some unknown point, and they subconsciously looked down.
The solid ground they should have stepped on melted without warning. What appeared beneath their feet was a bottomless black hole, with the faint glimmer of seawater shimmering far below.
All screams were suppressed deep in their throats. Almost before they could make a sound, boundless gravity grabbed their ankles.
In the blink of an eye, it was all over.
The lobby in front was empty; not a single person could be seen.
The elevator doors slowly closed, blocking the blood-red light inside the elevator and the waiter’s treacherous smiling face.
Meanwhile.
Wen Jianyan was already standing in the lobby of Floor B7. As if sensing something, he turned his head to look behind him.
The elevator doors had closed at some point, blocking his probing gaze.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[I just came back from other anchors’ channels… Good lord, I didn’t expect this side to be a trap too.]
[What a pity, the anchors who fell for that trap over there were all too low-level. I wanted to see how higher-level anchors would break through.]
The King of Hell is easy to meet, but little goblins are hard to deal with.
This was something Wen Jianyan had known for a long time.
Although he didn’t know what the price for not tipping was, in a place like this, he was never stingy.
However…
Wen Jianyan frowned, withdrawing his gaze from the closed elevator doors.
“Tip.”
No matter how you looked at it, this wasn’t a good sign.
Especially in an instance like this where money was the standard and all rules existed for the sake of exploitation.
As time passed, the pressure created by the instance was increasing—from the daily increasing exorbitant room fees, to the terrifying debt incurred to cover those fees, and now, it seemed another item had been added…
Greedy exploitation from the instance NPCs.
The basic principle of this instance was so simple, yet precisely because of this, it was so desperate, like being stuck in a quagmire with no escape.
Wen Jianyan took a deep breath and walked deeper into Floor B7.
Soon, he stopped and looked at the painting hanging on the wall.
Inside the old frame was an oil painting in a very familiar style—the last time Wen Jianyan had seen this type of existence was in the Xingwang Hotel—the portrait in the oil painting had a blurred face, shrouded in an impenetrable shadow. No matter which angle one looked from, it was impossible to see clearly. The only thing visible was that pair of hands, pale as a dead person’s.
Wen Jianyan recalled the “shadows” he had encountered on Floor B3.
They were released from the Gachapon, their entire bodies shrouded in darkness. The only thing clearly visible was their hanging pale hands.
Coincidence?
Wen Jianyan didn’t think so.
In an instance, this type of similarity often implied some causal connection.
Plus Wu Zhu’s strange behavior when facing these oil paintings…
Wen Jianyan’s brows unwittingly furrowed deeply. These fragments of clues were scattered in his mind, seemingly just a little bit away from being pieced together, but that crucial missing link prevented him from reaching a conclusion.
Just as he was examining the oil painting, a sharply distinct sense of danger suddenly rang out in the back of his head, making the hairs on the back of Wen Jianyan’s neck stand on end.
However, Wen Jianyan remained standing in place, motionless.
“Choosing this moment? Are you sure?”
He said without looking back.
“…How could I,” a voice that sounded particularly regretful came from behind.
Wen Jianyan turned slightly sideways and saw a man wearing a top hat and holding a cane walking slowly from behind—though it had only been a day, Figaro had changed into a burgundy suit, looking dapper, like a beast wearing the skin of civilization.
“It’s just that seeing you standing alone with your back to me… it was somewhat hard to control myself.”
Figaro touched the brim of his hat, an effortless smile still on his lips.
Wen Jianyan glanced at him and gave a fake smile.
Although a contract existed between Wen Jianyan and Figaro, it only meant Figaro would help him achieve his wishes regarding the “auction.” It didn’t stop the other party from seizing every opportunity to complete his other task—after all, the Oracle bad wanted to buy his life for a long time, and the price offered was definitely substantial.
Although Figaro’s killing intent was real, it was also a probe.
If he had shown even a hint of panic just now, the other party probably would have really made a move.
“However, there’s still some time before the auction starts,” Figaro raised an eyebrow, showing a somewhat surprised expression. “You’re actually here so early… do you have something else to do?”
Wen Jianyan didn’t deny it.
He jutted his chin toward the painting hanging on the wall in front of him and asked, “Do you know who the person in the oil painting is?”
“Unfortunately,” Figaro shrugged regretfully, “there are some secrets here that even I don’t know.”
“However…”
Figaro changed the subject.
“I do know someone who can answer your question.”
Wen Jianyan raised an eyebrow.
“Of course, you should have guessed it too.” Figaro smiled. “As one of the management layers of this ship, all auction matters are handled by Carl Bell. If even he doesn’t know the answer to your question, then I’m afraid no one can help you answer it.”
Indeed, Wen Jianyan had guessed it.
“However, trying to pry an answer out of his mouth is probably harder than ascending to heaven.” Figaro shook his head regretfully. “I can only wish you good luck.”
But looking at his expression… rather than wishing him well, it seemed more like schadenfreude.
“Thanks for the reminder.”
Wen Jianyan withdrew his gaze, squinting his eyes in a smile.
“Alright, let’s talk business.”
Seeing Wen Jianyan not continue the previous topic, Figaro seemed a bit disappointed, but quickly smiled again. “Okay, of course.”
Wen Jianyan: “Tell me about the general process?”
Figaro: “The basic process isn’t much different from the outside, at least before this place turned into an instance.”
“First, the auction is by member invitation. Only members who have spent a certain amount in the auction have invitation quotas. The higher the spending, the more quotas. So, anchors who can participate in the auction are basically on the list. Of course, now that it’s become an instance, the situation seems different from before.”
Indeed.
The invitation in Wen Jianyan’s hand was given by Orange Candy, likely consuming her invitation quota.
However, as the cruise ship mutated into an instance, the members who originally planned to participate in the auction obviously couldn’t pass as freely as before. Thus, the threshold for the auction was appropriately lowered, and channels for obtaining invitations were added.
“The auction generally lasts three days. Auction items are publicly displayed outside a day in advance—of course, you already knew this,” Figaro nodded in acknowledgment. “The auction items will be personally appraised by Carl Bell and divided into different grades. The auction will proceed from low to high grades. There is no upper limit on bidding. If you see something you like, you can directly raise your paddle to bid. Ordinary collectibles won will be delivered directly to your hand, while particularly precious collectibles will be sent to your room on the ship after the entire auction ends.”
Wen Jianyan nodded thoughtfully.
“By the way, I recall you also have a partnership with Carl Bell to send your own items for auction?”
“Yes.” Figaro smiled and nodded. “To be precise, I am one of the five suppliers here—of course, I should also be the most active one. After all, the other four probably don’t love this job as much as I do.”
“In short, my previous proposal still stands. If you have any items you want to sell, I can help, only taking a tiny, reasonable intermediary fee.”
Wen Jianyan pulled at the corner of his mouth. “—Hope I won’t need to use this favor.”
Figaro: “Ah, don’t speak so…”
But before he could finish his sentence, a ding came from behind, interrupting Figaro’s unfinished words. The elevator slowly opened, and two figures walked out.
Wen Jianyan’s pupils constricted.
One was Gentleman, and the other was Su Cheng, whom he hadn’t seen for a long time.
His face was pale, his emotions thin, appearing somewhat exhausted—clearly, just as Wen Jianyan guessed, during the time Su Cheng disappeared, he must have been assigned other tasks.
The two walked forward, one after the other.
“Good evening.” Gentleman’s gaze moved between Figaro and Wen Jianyan, a hypocritical smile appearing on his face. “Didn’t expect to see you two acting together. Truly rare.”
Wen Jianyan nodded with a beaming smile. “Right? I think so too.”
His gaze fell on Su Cheng, seemingly pointed.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Newcomers are a bit confused, what’s the situation?]
[In short, the one next to Gentleman is the anchor’s former vice-president, and the one next to the anchor is an assassin hired by Gentleman… yeah, that’s about the gist of it, get it?]
[Grass, what kind of bizarre scene is this!!]
[The look in the anchor’s eyes just now killed me: How come only you get to poach people?]
Figaro maintained his smiling fox appearance, seeming to have no burden whatsoever about his faction-switching behavior, and even waved at Gentleman.
The expression on Gentleman’s face seemed to vanish for an instant, but he quickly put on a proper smile again.
“See you at the auction.”
With that, he turned and walked forward with Su Cheng.
The heavy door slowly opened in front of them, swallowing their retreating figures.
Wen Jianyan blinked. “Can we go in early?”
“VIP box,” Figaro said succinctly. He bowed elegantly. “Of course, if you wish, you can too—my box is at your disposal.”
“Okay.”
If there’s an advantage to take, take it.
Figaro turned sideways. “Then let us…”
Wen Jianyan: “Wait.”
“?”
Figaro paused.
Huh? Wait for what?
As if in response to Wen Jianyan’s words, the elevator opened again. This time, a tall man with a dark and ruthless face walked out.
It was Qi Qian, who had previously agreed with Wen Jianyan to attend this auction.
Figaro: “…Dark Fire’s Vice President?”
He looked at Wen Jianyan in shock. “You invited someone else too?”
“Yeah.”
Wen Jianyan nodded without any guilt.
Qi Qian swept his gaze across the hall, quickly locking onto Wen Jianyan, and immediately strode over.
“Vice President! It’s been a long time.”
Watching Qi Qian approach, Figaro put on his trademark smile.
Qi Qian’s gaze lingered on Figaro for a few seconds, revealing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah.”
He looked at Wen Jianyan, his expression somewhat complex. “…I have to say, you really have wide connections, knowing even this profiteer.”
Wen Jianyan: “…”
Do you think I wanted to!!!
“However,” Figaro’s voice was smooth, “unfortunately, my box can only be used by my customers.”
Qi Qian nodded coldly, seemingly not caring much for the other’s box. “Oh.”
He looked at Wen Jianyan. “Then see you later…”
His words were cut off by Wen Jianyan.
“No, you’re coming with me.”
He’d be stupid to stay in a private box alone with someone who wanted his life at every moment.
Qi Qian paused, looking askance.
The smile on Figaro’s face stiffened as he turned to look at Wen Jianyan.
“But this…”
“He’s with me,” Wen Jianyan’s face was like cast iron, unwavering. “I am your customer, am I not?”
The two stared each other down. After a brief confrontation, Figaro finally backed down. He sighed and relented, “Alright, alright, who asked me to be someone who puts customers first.”
Led by Figaro, Wen Jianyan and Qi Qian followed him inside.
“How do you know this guy?”
Qi Qian asked in a low voice, eyes fixed tightly on Figaro’s back, his gaze flickering warily.
“He’s not a good person.”
“I know.” Wen Jianyan shrugged somewhat helplessly. “Can only say it was some force majeure… it’s complicated, I’ll tell you when we leave here.”
“But,” he changed the subject, “how do you know him?”
Qi Qian: “I once hired mercenaries under him, so I had brief contact with him.”
He frowned, looking at Figaro walking ahead. “Although I don’t have any conflict of interest with him, I still have to say, this guy isn’t trustworthy—he’s not even as good as that one from Eternal Day.”
Wen Jianyan knew he was talking about Chen Cheng.
He really didn’t expect that in Qi Qian’s heart, Figaro’s credibility was even lower than Chen Cheng, with whom he had a beef.
“Thanks for the reminder.” Wen Jianyan gave a dry laugh.
Led by Figaro, the three passed through the heavy doors and entered the auction venue—the auction had not yet begun. The stage was covered with a layer of blood-red silk, blocking prying eyes. Aside from the auction stage, the lighting elsewhere was very dim, and seats were spaced far apart, placing great emphasis on privacy.
Wen Jianyan raised his eyes, his gaze landing on the second floor above.
That should be where the boxes were.
Sure enough, Figaro led them through a very private passage, then up the stairs, soon arriving in front of a box on the second floor.
He bowed slightly.
“Please enter.”
Pushing open the door revealed a small, extremely luxurious box. The seats had small silk cushions, and exquisite silverware was placed on the small table. The overall style looked quite like the extravagance of medieval nobility.
“Thank God, at least this place hasn’t changed,” Figaro nodded with satisfaction.
Clearly, this box was decorated purely according to his own aesthetic.
Through the wide-open window, the auction stage below could be seen in its entirety, but the area below the stage was blurred in darkness, indistinct.
Beside each of the four seats was a red round paddle with a number written on it. This should be the paddle used for bidding.
“Some black tea?”
Figaro beamed.
Steam curled from the black tea on the table. As time passed, people gradually took their seats below, slowly filling the originally empty venue.
During the wait for the auction to begin, Wen Jianyan asked many unrestrained questions. Figaro answered them one by one, while Qi Qian sat silently in the corner with his arms crossed, his gaze sharp and alert, seeming constantly vigilant.
Finally, accompanied by the rustling of silk, the curtain below pulled open to both sides.
The buzzing conversation disappeared almost instantly.
A pale-faced man in formal wear walked onto the stage under the bright lights, smiling and nodding to all sides.
“Good evening, and welcome everyone to the Lucky Cruise Auction—I am the auctioneer for this auction, Carl Bell.”
“First up is Lot No. 1, [Saint’s Finger], an SS-rank consumable item. It provides one touch from a saint, healing all wounds and negative statuses, and provides Holy Protection lasting for one hour.”
Even with expectations about the rarity of items at the auction, Wen Jianyan couldn’t help but hold his breath, and Qi Qian straightened his back slightly.
The first lot was actually an S+ rank item?
Not to mention such a powerful ability… even in the entire Nightmare, it was something one could only hope to come by.
Moreover, they were now in an SS-rank instance. An item with such efficacy could save a life at a critical moment.
“Starting price: Three million points,” Carl Bell said with a smile.
A very high, but still reasonable price.
Soon, someone below raised a paddle.
“Three million one hundred thousand.”
“Three million two hundred thousand.”
Bids rang out one after another from all directions.
“Three million eight hundred thousand.”
“Three million eight hundred thousand going once, going twice, going three times.” Carl Bell looked around, and the small gavel fell. “SOLD.”
Although this place had become an instance, the auction process didn’t seem to have mutated along with the Lucky Cruise.
The entire process was almost exactly as Figaro described.
As time went on, the items appearing on stage became increasingly rare and powerful—these items were top-tier in both rank and efficacy. Especially in such a high-difficulty instance, owning any one of them could inject confidence and increase survival rates in times of crisis.
Even with the same rank, they were worlds apart from ordinary items sold in the system shop. Clearly collected from different instances, the items had their own bizarre names and backgrounds.
During this process, Wen Jianyan raised his paddle with great restraint a few times, winning a few items with tricky uses that few people fought for, but which had great utility in his mind.
Soon, as the last publicized lot was carried onto the stage, the auction process was nearing its end.
Wen Jianyan let out a long sigh of relief, organizing his harvest for the day in his mind.
Familiarity with auction rules and bidders, new items added to his backpack, and remaining assets…
Just then, a voice from below interrupted his thoughts.
“—Finally, we have decided to end today’s auction with a specially appearing, extremely precious item as the finale.”
Carl Bell’s voice, usually calm and waveless, rare became high-spirited at this moment.
“SSS Item, [Dead Sea Scrolls]!”
“…”
What?
Wen Jianyan’s pupils constricted, almost unable to believe his ears.
He subconsciously looked up and down toward the stage—
On the brightly lit auction stage, through a cold glass cover, he could see an ancient book with yellowed pages lying quietly there.
How could this be?
Completely unannounced, giving him no preparation whatsoever, the purpose of his visit appeared before him without warning—so close, as if he could reach out and touch it.
So sudden, so malicious.
Wen Jianyan felt his internal organs twisting together.
What if he had looked at the publicized items, didn’t see the [Dead Sea Scrolls], and decided not to come today?
He dared not think about the consequences of doing so.
“Starting price, one hundred million points.”
Carl Bell’s voice seemed to come from far away.
Gasps came from all directions.
One hundred million??
Starting price for one item is one hundred million?? Are they crazy?
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
Wen Jianyan’s heart pounded wildly.
He extended his somewhat stiff, slightly sweaty fingers towards the paddle beside him.
But before he could raise the paddle, an overly familiar voice, one that required almost no identification, came from another box not far away.
“Two hundred million.”
Directly doubling it?!
Whispered murmurs came from the darkness below.
Wen Jianyan’s breath hitched slightly, and he jerked his head around to look in the direction the voice came from—
Nothing could be seen clearly in the darkness.
But he was all too familiar with the identity of the speaker.
It was Su Cheng.
