Mushoku Impact

Though there was still one more item up for auction, Paul figured it was probably best to leave before the person seated in booth number three came looking for trouble. Fortunately, while the VIP booths were located relatively close to one another, the passages leading up to them were entirely separate, affording the people leasing them the maximum amount of privacy when departing to collect their items.
Upon reaching the exterior of the Auction House, Paul briefly turned his gaze skyward, marveling at the star-filled sky overhead as he remarked, "It's still pretty early. Want to walk around for a bit before we head back?"
Speaking before Ei or Lilia, Ghislaine flatly replied, "I'd rather change out of these clothes first. After that, I'm down for pretty much anything."
Shifting his gaze to the busty, kimono-wearing cat girl, Thomas remarked, "I'm not going to force the matter, but you should get used to dressing in more formal attire. After all, you 'are' the Ambassador of the Great Forest. It might be a pain in the ass, but you'll have to &nbsp;meet and interact with all kinds of Nobles in the future."
Exhaling a steamy sigh, a byproduct of the frigid evening air, Ghislaine groaned, "What a pain in the ass..."
Empathizing with Ghislaine's plight, a wry smile developed across Paul's face as he said, "Look on the bright side. Most dignitaries hailing from the Great Forest are easily taken advantage of due to their lack of knowledge about the outside world. You have all of us to support you, so even if you aren't the sharpest tool in the shed, you don't have to worry about falling prey to the schemes of others."
Furrowing her brows, Ghislaine narrowed her eyes at Paul as she asked, "Are you calling me an idiot?"
Restraining a chuckle, Paul teased, "Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. You might lack knowledge, but you're a genius at combat. Once you reach the Rank of an Emperor or a God, people will agree with you even if you say the sky is purple."
Though she was slightly annoyed at Paul's quip about her being a little dull, Ghislaine couldn't help smiling as she imagined herself as a Sword God. Such heights seemed beyond her reach just a few years ago. Now, thanks to the power of her Anemo Vision and an abundance of powerful training partners, she could already trade blows with an Emperor at the relatively young age of twenty-three. If she could handily defeat one of the existing Kings, Gal may even bequeath her the title of Emperor right then and there...
Interrupting Ghislaine's reverie, Paul remarked, "How about this? Once we return to the Inn, we'll have Ganyu take your measurements. If it's her, I'm certain she could make you an outfit that's both elegant and easy to move in. If not, we could always modify one of the outfits from the IOF to make it fit you. I'll ask Katheryne to lend or sell me the catalog so you can take a look."
Though her cat-like ears perked up, Ghislaine crossed her arms and averted her eyes from Paul as she replied, "You shouldn't waste money. Just pick something you think suits me. If it sucks, I'll be sure to let you know."
Nodding his head in affirmation, Paul shifted his gaze to Ei and Lilia to ask if they would also like something from the IOF. All three girls were already wearing clothing acquired in such a way, but variety was one of the spices of life. Wearing the same attire every single day might be convenient, but it was also a surefire way to get people to gossip about your finances and lack of sense...
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Since he didn't want to force Ghislaine to walk around in a restrictive kimono, Paul and co returned to the Inn for an impromptu, late-night fashion show. The unplanned event cost Paul a whopping 2300AGC, but, as even the swimsuits acquired from the IOF could be considered S-Rank Magical Artifacts, it was well worth the expense.
What surprised Paul was that the catalog had an entire section devoted to crossover outfits. One such outfit, originally reserved for Beidou, was the tattered yet stylish white kimono worn by Baiken in the Guilty Gear series. It wasn't exactly the most 'appropriate' attire for social occasions, but it suited Ghislaine to such an extent that Paul couldn't help purchasing it the moment he saw it.
Though she was initially put off by the idea of wearing another kimono, Ghislaine quickly learned that Baiken's 'bancho' attire was anything but restrictive. It emphasized her cleavage to an almost ludicrous extent, but, as Baiken was a master swordswoman, her attire was even easier to move in than Ghislaine's usual outfit. The only downside was that it wasn't even remotely suited to formal occasions, so Paul forked over an additional 100 AGC to acquire her a fairly modern-looking pantsuit. He originally tried to get her to wear a smock-like dress with a corset, but Ghislaine refused to even humor the idea of wearing a piece of clothing that compressed her diaphragm and made it difficult to contort her body. Her swordsmanship revolved around her natural agility and flexibility, so the only corset she would consider wearing was the lace one Paul sometimes had her and the other girls don in the bedroom...
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After yet another sleepless night, Paul was relaxing with Diona curled up in his lap when Noelle arrived to inform him that Dimsaul wished to meet with him. He wasn't really in the mood to entertain guests, but he thanked Noelle for her report before rousing Diona and getting ready for what he expected to be a long day.
*twenty minutes later*
Seeing Paul enter the lounge, Dimsaul and his adjutant immediately rose to their feet, bowing respectfully as the former said, "Good morning, Sir Paul. And thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice..."
Gesturing for the duo to raise their heads, Paul said, "Don't mention it," before taking a seat and asking, "So, what is this I hear about a group of Inquisitors raiding the warehouse we're leasing from House Fontaine? I understand they're an organization of zealots, but that's a transcendental level of stupidity."
Adopting a slight smile, Dimsaul replied, "Such is the way of those who have been in power for too long. They're so used to getting their way that they scarcely consider the consequences of their actions."
Approving of Dimsaul's words, Paul gave a slight nod before asking, "What are the damages?"
Retrieving a document from his adjutant, Dimsaul handed it to Paul as he explained, "Several of our wares were labeled as contraband and seized despite us having completed the necessary customs forms. We were told the items would be returned to us after an audit was performed, but such procedures generally take between six months to an entire year."
Furrowing his brows, Paul retorted, "What a farce. Someone is either attempting to keep us here or taking advantage of the fact we're in a 'hurry' to return to the Asura Kingdom."
Looking over the documents provided by Dimsaul, Paul noted that many of the items listed were, in fact, considered contraband within the city of Milishion. However, that was in regards to selling, not transporting them. So long as they paid the required tariff and signed documentation that affirmed they would not be distributing contraband within the city limits, storing and transporting such goods was entirely legal.
Folding up the document, Paul slipped it into his breast pocket as he said, "Just leave this to me. I'll be meeting with the Lady of House Fontaine this coming Sunday. If this matter isn't resolved before then, I imagine it won't take much longer."
Though the Order of the Temple could doctor or 'misplace' the customs records, one of the things that made Varuna so feared was the 'Blessing' she was known to possess. Her ability to discern whether or not someone was speaking the truth was on par with the highest-grade lie-detection artifacts. She also didn't hesitate to subject herself to a similar degree of scrutiny, so she was the nemesis of anyone that attempted to abuse their power and authority for deceit. The moment news of the raid reached her ears, Paul had little doubt that Varuna would be conducting an audit of all the people involved. If not for her inborn sense of justice, then to receive his praise...
Imagining his impending reunion with both Varuna and Barbara, a wry smile adorned Paul's face as he asked, "Is there anything else? If not, I'll leave the two of you to return to your duties."
With Paul promptly rising after he spoke, Dimsaul found himself in a rather awkward situation as he rose to his feet and hurriedly stated, "Ah, please wait a moment, Sir Paul. There was one other matter..."
Raising his brows, Paul turned to meet Dimsaul's gaze, asking, "What is it?" in a confused tone. Noelle hadn't informed him of any other matters, so he was in a hurry to return to his quarters and rest the remaining half hour before breakfast.
As he wasn't really in a position to delay Paul, a cold sweat broke out across Dimsaul's body as he explained, "Baroness Christina Lawrence reached out to us earlier this morning and asked us to inquire if you might accompany her mid-morning tea..."
"Ah..."
Recalling his mental image of the buxom, pink-haired auctioneer, Paul was genuinely tempted to accept her invitation. Unfortunately, not that he was complaining, he had already made plans with Venti, Ghislaine, and Xinyan. They were going to spend the day sampling the local wine and delicacies, so, as tempted as he was by Christina's invitation, Paul felt that pandering to the regional nobility was significantly less important than tending to his women.
Adopting a faint smile, Paul stated, "Please convey to Baroness Christina that I am grateful for her offer. However, as I already have quite a number of prior commitments, I must reluctantly refuse her invitation. If she'd like to reschedule for sometime next week, speak with Jean or Ganyu to make the arrangements."
Bowing alongside his adjutant, Dimsaul replied, "As you will, Sir Paul." He personally didn't think it was a good idea to blow off a rising member of Milishion's Nobility just to 'play around,' but he dared not question Paul's decisions. Even the weaker members of Paul's entourage were Saints and Kings, so he was clearly doing something right...
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"Hot damn..."
Though he had seen it the previous night, Paul couldn't help gawking at Ghislaine in Baiken's attire. If he wasn't aware of the outfit's origins, he could have easily been convinced it was custom-made specifically for her.
Crossing her arms in a manner that accentuated her breasts, Ghislaine pretended to be annoyed as she flatly remarked, "Yeah, yeah, I get it. You like big-breasted women. Do you really have to be such a horndog all the time...?"
Answering in Paul's stead, Venti animatedly replied, "Of course he does, my dear cat-eared friend! How else is he supposed to meet the needs of dozens of women~? You might only get horny during mating season, but some of us are active year-round, twenty-four-seven~."
Punctuating her statement, Venti clung to Paul in a way that sandwiched his arm between her borderline ludicrous bust. She was easily the woman Paul slept with the most, but that did little to quell her passions. Rather, every time she birthed a Seelie, she felt an almost overwhelming desire to produce another.
Observing Venti's behavior, the annoyed look on Ghislaine's face became genuine as she remarked, "You're even worse than a Succubus..."
Instead of being offended by Ghislaine's statement, Venti covered her mouth and snickered in a manner reminiscent of Kishirika. She and the two Demon Empresses had grown fairly close during Paul's stay in the Demon Continent, so many of their more 'demonic' traits had rubbed off on her.
Interjecting before a potential fight could break out, Paul teased, "The two of you got along well during the last Mating Season. What's with the sudden hostilities~?"
Clicking her tongue, Ghislaine averted her eyes and refused to answer Paul's question. She refused to admit she was envious of the attention Venti received, so she just remained silent, her tail swishing behind her in a manner that clearly conveyed her frustration.
Seeing Ghislaine genuinely upset, Paul was about to console her when the final member of their party, Xinyan, awkwardly raised her hand. She had become increasingly more reticent over the past two years, wearing her hair down and gaining a markedly more 'feminine' aura.
As the gazes of Paul, Ghislaine, and Venti all shifted to her, the look on Xinyan's face became marginally more awkward as she suggested, "We should probably get going. We're beginning to draw a crowd..."
Looking around, Paul noticed that quite a few people were observing them. The vast majority were stealing glances at Ghislaine's chest and Venti's partially exposed panties, but there were a few with disgruntled looks due to the commotion they were causing. After all, they were in the middle of the Commercial District.
Nodding his head, Paul extended his free hand to Xinyan as he said, "Then let's be off," in a sing-song tone. His actions caused the bronze-skinned beauty to visibly shrink, but it only took a moment for her to step closer and accept his hand. She may have mellowed out a bit during their stay in the Demon Continent, but it wasn't to the point she would refuse to hold hands with the man she loved...
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(A/N: If you want to see Ghislaine in a Baiken outfit, click this comment.)

Just as he had the day before, Paul took Venti, Ghislaine, and Xinyan to have their equipment repaired before moving to the Adventurer's District to begin their bar crawl.
Seeing how diverse the Adventurer's District was, catering to Humans, Beast People, and even Demons, Venti couldn't help remarking, "Wow, things are a lot livelier here than they are over in the Commercial District. If I didn't know better, I might have thought Milishion was accepting of every race and culture."
"We can thank the Adventurer's Guild for that," said Paul. "Their power increased exponentially in the wake of the Laplace War. Becoming an Adventurer is also one of the only ways most people can rise above the poverty line and make a name for themselves in higher societies. If the Church attempted to strip away that freedom, they would lose many of their would-be faithful."
Completely ignoring Paul's remarks, Venti sniffed at the air, her usual smile broadening as she remarked, "I detect the scent of adventure~!"
Pulling Paul's hand, Venti attempted to whisk him away in the direction her nose had decreed. Instead, Paul stood his ground, a relaxed smile adorning his face as he stated, "No need to rush. It's not like the local taverns will have anything of a higher quality than the alcohol we keep in storage. Let's take things slow and enjoy ourselves."
Though she relented to Paul's slower pace, Venti felt obligated to state, "Quality isn't what makes alcohol worth drinking. Even the most watered-down liquors can warm the soul if the environment is lively."
Adopting a marginally wrier smile, Paul remarked, "Just be careful. The people in this world can be...opportunistic. I won't hesitate to do so, but I'd rather not have to beat the shit out of every man who sees you as an 'opportunity' rather than a person."
Sticking out her tongue, Venti teased, "It's because you're around that I have the confidence to act without inhibition. Don't you know that it's the privilege of beautiful maidens to have their knight in shining armor defend them~?"
Nodding in affirmation, Paul's smile softened as he replied, "Then that's what I'll do..." in a somewhat defeated tone. This wasn't the first time he and Venti had gone bar crawling. So long as he didn't allow her to wander off, there shouldn't be any major issues...
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While Paul was busy 'philandering' about, several hooded figures had gathered in a hidden location deep beneath the streets of Milishion. Most wore featureless white masks to conceal their identities, so the two that didn't belong stood out even more. The first was a ghastly-looking man with sunken eyes and a sickly complexion. He wore an eyepatch over his right eye, but his most striking feature was his seemingly perpetual smile. It was much broader than the average smile, so anyone who beheld it had the distinct impression the man was crazy.
Contrasting the man, though striking in her own way, the second figure was a fairly petite woman with crimson hair and red eyes. Her lithe frame was garbed in a black bodysuit, but her most prominent features were her curved, distinctly demonic horns, her crimson gauntlets, the collar around her neck, and the spear-like sword in her right hand.
Maintaining his perennial smile, the skull-faced man remarked, "Well, isn't this unusual? Even if it's thin, my bloodline is that of the Immortal Demon King. As members of the Demon-Expulsion Faction, don't you consider it a little 'heretical' to request my services? And not just mine, but one of the Succubi you loathe so vehemently..."
Representing the masked congregation, a deep-voiced man replied, "We did not invite you here to make conversation. Your target is Paul Greyrat, Special Envoy to the Asura Kingdom. His slights against the Holy Church and the Milishion Royal Family cannot go unpunished."
Crossing his arms, the skull-faced man mused, "Hooooo~? That kid has a knack for pissing off people in positions of power. I've received more than twenty requests for his head in just the past two years. It's a shame I can only collect a single bounty..."
Seemingly ignoring the skull-faced man's statement, the leader of the masked congregation expressed, "The Greyrat Houses are known for their vulnerability against Succubi. The two of you will work together to ensure the success of this mission. Failure isn't an option."
Furrowing her brows, the red-haired Succubus said, "I want seventy percent of my payment in advance..." in a cold yet strangely resonant voice.
Piggybacking off the Succubi's statement, the skull-faced man said, "I'll have to agree with the red-headed lass on this one. You people are pretty notorious for backstabbing your own. If you can't pay my fee up front, I'm afraid I'll have to wash my hands of this matter."
Originating from the other hooded figures gathered, a deep and feminine voice stated, "Even if you're the Death God, Randolph Mariann, killing Paul Greyrat is no simple feat. We can't have you forsaking the mission midway and fleeing with such a substantial sum..."
Shifting his exposed, crimson-red eye to the masked woman, Randolph asked, "You would question the capabilities of the man Ranked 4th among the Seven Great Powers? I've memorized your voice, scent, and build. You would be wise to avoid making enemies in the future..."
Though Randolph didn't release any of his touki, his words were enough to cause the usually arrogant woman's legs to tremble. The Order of the Temple was filled with opportunists looking to elevate themselves at the expense of their 'comrades.' If one of them reached out to Randolph and commissioned him to assassinate her, there was nothing she could do but clean her neck.
Speaking out before the woman could think to apologize, the leader of the masked congregation said, "Our words are not an underestimation of your capabilities, but caution in regards to your target. Paul Greyrat isn't simply the youngest King-Ranked Swordsman in history. The companions he keeps with him are monsters in their own right. At the very least, we suspect that there are five Kings and potentially even an Emperor among his entourage..."
Raising his brows, Randolph mused, "That would certainly explain the reward you're offering. 5,000,000 Asuran Gold Coins is the kind of price you'd offer for the head of the Pope or the Asuran King. You must think this kid's a serious threat if you want him dead that badly."
Hearing Randolph mention a commission fee of 5,000,000 AGC, the red-haired Succubi's brow twitched. She was only being offered 50,000 AGC for her services, so while she would never compare herself to the literal 'Death God,' the disparity in their remunerations left a bitter taste in her mouth...
Instead of responding to Randolph's probing, the leader of the masked congregation stated, "We have already made arrangements to have your reward transported to the Dragon King Kingdom via teleportation. Unless you possess a spatial storage device, transporting 140,000kgs of gold on your person might prove difficult..."
Rubbing his chin, the smile on Randolph's face broadened as he mused, "Fair point. However, considering the vast wealth of the Holy Kingdom of Milis, I'm certain you have at least one or two spare storage artifacts collecting dust somewhere. Place at least half the funds inside one and bring it to me within the next seventy-two hours. If this Paul Greyrat is half as dangerous as you make him out to be, I'll be imperiling the entire Dragon King Kingdom by openly antagonizing him. Two-and-a-half-million is a small price to pay for that."
Though the sounds of people grumbling and clicking their tongues could be heard throughout the chamber, the leader of the masked congregation only hesitated for a brief moment before answering, "We will agree on two conditions. First and foremost, Paul Greyrat cannot learn it was the Order of the Temple that hired you. If you are defeated and questioned, you are to implicate the First Prince of the Asura Kingdom. Furthermore, until Paul Greyrat has been killed, you will not target or accept commissions to slay a member of our Order. Are we in agreement?"
Adopting what could best be described as a murderous smile, Randolph replied, "Sure, why not~?" in a non-committal tone. He only really cared about killing powerful opponents, so losing out on the chance to slaughter a bunch of feeble clergymen and women wasn't a great loss.
"Then it's settled," said the leader of the masked congregation. However, before he could dismiss the gathering, the red-headed Succubus said, "I want the full 50,000 upfront. Compared to the 2.5 million you're offering my 'associate,' 50,000 is a fairly paltry sum."
Though their faces were concealed by masks, the red-headed Succubus could feel the hatred exuding from nearly everyone present. Fortunately, she wasn't alone. If she had been, there was a decent probability that the assembly would have turned on her right there and then.
Raising his hand to silence the congregation, the leader of the masked assembly waited until everyone had fallen silent before answering, "You will have your payment. However, should you fail in your task, know that our 'hounds' will hunt you to the ends of the earth. Not even that Queen of yours would be able to protect you..."
Resisting the urge to snort through her nose, the red-headed Succubus asserted, "No Succubus has ever lost to a member of the Greyrat Houses. If this Paul Greyrat is anything like his ancestors, Sir Death God might not even need to act..."
Amused by the Succubi's claim, a raspy, bone-chilling chuckle emanated from Randolph's throat. Fortunately, while her words could be seen as undermining his usefulness, the infamous Death God didn't take them to heart. After all, if Paul was so inept that he was done in by someone stuck at the Advanced Rank of the North God Style, he simply wasn't worth the effort of killing personally...
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After a lively but otherwise uneventful day, Paul was forced to carry the drunken and incredibly clingy Venti in his arms while Xinyan and Ghislaine followed close behind.
Seemingly oblivious to the disturbance she was causing, Venti puckered up her lips and said, "Gib me a kiss~" before seizing the initiative to steal Paul's lips. The taste of alcohol was pervasive within her saliva, but Paul didn't mind, obliging the overly affectionate Archon until she released him to giggle and catch her breath.
Adopting a wry but affectionate smile, Paul said, "We're almost at the Inn. If you want a 'proper' reward, you'll behave yourself until then..."
Puffing out her cheeks, Venti looked like she was about to complain but ultimately started laughing. She may have consumed her body weight in alcohol, but she wasn't actually intoxicated. Thus, as there were quite a few women Paul could turn to if she decided to be difficult, she decided to curl up and nestle against his chest for the remainder of the trip.
Kissing the top of Venti's head, Paul said, "Good girl," before returning his focus to his surroundings. There had been a number of people observing him and his group throughout the day, so he was on high alert despite the relaxed smile on his face.
Fortunately, while Paul's group was being monitored, they weren't without protection. Lynette and Shinobu had been shadowing them the entire day, and several of the people monitoring them were doing so at the behest of the Order of the Church and the Order of Instruction. The Pope and many of the Archbishops wanted to avoid another incident like what occurred at the White Palace, so they had nearly a hundred men keeping tabs on both Paul and the people tailing him...
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(A/N: The emergency of the Death God O_O...)

With Klee sleeping soundly in her bedroom, watched over by quite a number of people, Paul freshened up with the intention of participating in that evening's auction. Most of the items on sale technically belonged to him, but he was still interested in checking things out as auctions were a fairly common trope in fantasy settings. Thus, with Ei, Ghislaine, and Lilia in tow, Paul paid the 10 AGC fee to secure himself one of the ten VIP booths typically reserved for high-ranking members of the nobility and Church.
"I hate this..."
As she wasn't used to wearing restrictive clothing, Ghislaine had a grumpy look on her face as Paul had asked her to don a predominately black, red-trimmed kimono. He had no problems with her usual outfit, consisting of a pair of loose-fit trousers and a black, bra-like top, but he didn't want any of the people attending the auction to mistake her for a slave. She might not care, but it bothered Paul to have people mistake those closest to him as 'lessers.'
Ruffling the 193cm tall woman's hair, Paul said, "Just put up with it for a few hours. I'll make it up to you once we return to the Inn."
Though she furrowed her brows, Ghislaine made no attempts to evade Paul's hand. Instead, she tolerated his caress, crossing her arms as she grumbled, "I don't understand why you care about the opinions of people you resent. You already ran rampant through the White Palace. If anyone gives us crap, we can just beat them up and be done with it."
Adopting a smile, Paul replied, "You're not wrong..." before patting his lap, prompting Ghislaine to eventually take a seat as he added, "The problem with resorting to violence is that you'll need to continue employing it to maintain control. It also serves as a corrupting force to the people using it and those around them. The moment a leader stops caring or considering the consequences of their actions, they become a despot and a tyrant..."
Maintaining her furrowed look, Ghislaine asked, "Does it matter? Even if you become a tyrant, you can still inspire people and improve the lives of your subjects. Caring too much about the opinions of others will give your enemies the impression you're weak."
Nodding his head, Paul mused, "Perhaps. But that isn't necessarily a bad thing. Those with the capacity to oppose us will do so regardless of what we do. If a couple of clowns mistake us as easy marks, it gives people like Ningguang the leverage she needs to 'justly' ruin them..."
Recalling her past interactions with Ningguang, most of Ghislaine's doubts vanished. She knew the former wasn't very powerful, but for reasons she couldn't fully understand, Ghislaine couldn't imagine defeating her. A certain sense of 'surety' exuded from Ningguang's every word and action. If Ghislaine didn't know better, she could have easily been convinced the peculiar white-haired woman was the descendant of an omniscient God...
Seeing Ghislaine abruptly fall silent, a wry smile adorned Paul's face. He knew better than most how capable Ningguang was, but it was awkward knowing Ghislaine had more 'faith' in someone she hardly interacted with over him, someone she had accompanied for years.
Fortunately, just as Paul was thinking about ways to salvage his standing, the lights within the auction hall quickly dimmed, followed by the central stage lighting up. Shortly after, a rather buxom woman with inordinately long pink hair stepped out of the shadows, her shapely figure garbed in what could best be described as an old-fashioned pantsuit.
Voicing the thought that had just crossed Paul's mind, Ghislaine muttered, "She's strong..." in a silent yet severe tone.
Nodding his head, Paul replied, "It makes sense, considering the value of the items up for grabs. If the people in charge were weak, they wouldn't be able to ensure the safety of their customers and stock..."
Though the pink-haired woman was at best a Sword Saint, even the cuff links she wore were enchanted with powerful Magics. She likely wouldn't be able to contend against a King, but the average Saint would struggle to leave so much as a scratch on her.
As if sensing Paul's and Ghislaine's thoughts, the pink-haired woman briefly cast her gaze to their elevated booth, narrowing her amethyst eyes in amusement before looking down to address the masked crowd below. The Fontaine Auction House mandated that all its attendees wear masks and hooded cloaks to prevent those in positions of power and authority from pressuring the other guests. That didn't stop certain people from shouting out the organizations and companies they were affiliated with, but the price of doing so was a life-long ban or a fine of 100,000 Royal Notes.
"Greetings, distinguished Lords, Ladies, and guests from afar. I would like to welcome you to the Fontaine Auction House. For those of you who are unfamiliar with our institution, allow me the honor of introducing myself. I am Baroness Christina Juliana Lawrence, heiress of House Lawrence and Chief Financier of the Lawrence Mining Company. I'm 23 and single, but if you'd like to try your hand at winning my wealth and favor, be prepared to prove your worth in a duel."
With Christina directing her final few words in the general direction of his booth, a somewhat wry smile developed across Paul's face. He wasn't exactly lacking in female companions, so while Christina was certainly a bombshell in terms of appearance and disposition, Paul wasn't as moved as he would have been a few years prior. The crowd below, however, was abuzz with excitement as, after joining hands with House Fontaine, House Lawrence had become one of the wealthiest in all of Milishion.
*snap*
Demonstrating the borderline heinous amplification effect of her gloves, Christina snapped her fingers with enough force to produce a weak but incredibly loud shockwave, silencing the crowd and deterring a few of the bolder guests from trying to challenge her on the spot. At the same time, yet another voluptuous beauty stepped onto the stage, this time wearing a fairly modern bunny suit and pushing a silver cart. However, rather than fake ears and a detachable tail, hers were the real deal, the distinct traits of the 'Warrior Bunny' tribe.
After pushing the cart next to Christina, the bunny girl bowed low before returning to the shadows. Immediately following her departure, Christina pulled away the covering concealing the item up for auction, revealing an ornate dagger with a jewel-encrusted handle.
"Our first item is a magical dagger recovered from the A-Rank Labyrinth, Palace of Greed. It possesses the unique ability 'Wound Agitation,' making even the tiniest of cuts potentially fatal. The inaugural bid is six Milis Gold Coins. If you'd like to bid for this item, the minimum increment is one Milis Gold Coin while the maximum is ten."
Following Christina's introduction of the item, a bidding war immediately broke out in the general seating area. Magic items were fairly rare in the market as most Adventurers kept them as heirlooms to pass on to their descendants. More importantly, the dagger brought out by Christina was uniquely suited to assassinations. Even if they had no intention of using it, the Nobles within the crowd felt compelled to purchase the dagger just to avoid finding it in their back at a later date...
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After witnessing more than a dozen relatively mundane items come and go, Paul began losing interest in the auction. Most magical items couldn't hold a candle to the equipment he obtained via the Intersection of Fate, so the only article that caught his interest was a mithril-infused kite shield purported to be able to reflect Saint-ranked Magic. However, as none of his companions specialized in utilizing shields, he decided to abstain from the bidding war that followed.
Fortunately, just as Paul was seriously considering retiring early, one of the rotating bunny girls brought forth a large red cushion bearing a single, silvery-white ring with a tiny blood-red gemstone. It wasn't nearly as eye-catching as some of the other items put up for auction, but its description caused tensions within the auction hall to become palpable.
"Our second-to-last article for the night is a magic ring discovered at the bottom of the S-Rank Labyrinth, Abyssal Plummet. Appearances aside, it possesses the exceptionally rare ability 'Sacrifice,' effectively granting its wielder a second life in the face of imminent death. The inaug-"
Before Christina could finish introducing the item, an incredibly deep voice emanated from the VIP box next to Paul's, stating, "100,000 Royal Notes." in a decisive tone. This was the equivalent of 50,000 Asura Gold Coins, so the only people who could contend against such a monstrous sum were those in possession of a Platinum Coin. However, as the voice originated from one of the boxes 'reserved' for high-ranking members of the Nobility and Church, no one in the general seating area was 'brazen' enough to contend the bid.
Undaunted by the bidder's status, Christina plainly declared, "It is against policy to state a bid before the inaugural bid is announced. Everyone who enters this hall agrees to abide by its rules and regulations, so I'm afraid the distinguished guest in booth number three is barred from competing for this particular item. Further violations will prevent you from competing in future auctions as well."
*audible gasps*
Though the Fontaine Auction House was regarded as the most reputable in the entire city, none of the people in the general seating area expected Christina to stand against the voice emanating from the VIP booth. House Lawrence had risen to enviable heights in a relatively short period of time. Still, even with the backing of House Fontaine, it couldn't hope to contend against the families that had ruled the Milis Holy Kingdom for generations.
Contrasting expectations, the person seated in booth number three didn't respond to Christina's 'provocation.' Instead, a tense silence fell upon the entire auction house, broken only when Christina went on to declare, "As I was saying, the inaugural bid will start at 100MGC. If you would like to bid for this item, the minimum increment is 10MGC while the maximum is 100."
Despite the relatively low starting bid, no one in the general seating area dared to compete for the ring. Doing so meant incurring the wrath of one of the most powerful families in all of Milishion, a family that undoubtedly had the backing of the Church. The last thing any of them wanted was a surprise visit from the Inquisition, so the hall remained silent for nearly a full minute until Paul mused, "I'll raise the maximum amount."
Hearing Paul's bid, a clamor spread through the audience hall, not just because he dared to compete against the voice from before but because his bid originated from the centermost VIP booth. Said booth had never once been used during previous auctions, not because it was unavailable but because there was an unspoken agreement between members of the Milis Aristocracy that the most lavish accommodations were reserved for the Pope and his Archbishops.
Interrupting the clamor before it could reach a crescendo, Christina loudly proclaimed, "That's 200 Milis Gold Coins from the gentleman seated in booth number one! Would anyone like to bid 210? This is a fairly rare item, you know~?"
Despite Christina's words, no one in the general seating area raised their paddles. As a result, Christina had no choice but to begin the countdown that would have granted Paul the rights to the sacrificial ring. Before she could finish the countdown, however, a soft and feminine voice emanated from the second VIP booth, stating, "We shall bid 300."
Striking a pose, Christina shouted, "Now we're talking! I have 300MGC from the esteemed guest seated in booth number two! Can I get 310!? Perhaps even four~!?"
Once again contrasting expectations, Paul shook his head, choosing to abstain from further bidding. The only reason he put forth an initial bid was to spite the person seated in booth number three. Now that another VIP had made an offer, he didn't mind stepping down and allowing them to acquire the ring at an incredibly low cost. He originally planned to give the ring to Lilia, but as rare as the 'Sacrifice' enchantment was, it wasn't like it guaranteed the wearer's survival. It might save them from a fatal blow, but if the person who attacked them were still present, they would simply be prolonging the inevitable...
...
..
.
(A/N: Christina is based on the character of the same name in Granblue Fantasy.)

Chapter 211: Undercurrents