IGBDS 9

Chapter 9

“Fifteen million has been bid! Number 45! Do you withdraw?”

At the auctioneer’s question aimed at him, Molden felt intense shame.

But what could he do? He had no choice but to lower his paddle in the end.

“Ah—number 45 withdraws! Three, two, one…! Closed! <Fragment of Lost Memory> has been won by customer number 27 for 15 million Sern!”

Molden bit his lip hard.

Withdraw? As if!

For now he’d let it go, but afterward he planned to meet them separately, offer a higher price, and take it off their hands.

‘Anyway, I was going to casually let slip the winning bid to Cressida and get her to pay it back…’

It was a burdensome sum for him, but nothing to her. Unlike him, hadn’t she been lucky enough to be born into a good family?

Just yesterday, Cressida had said that if only she could find the pendant, she wouldn’t mind spending a fortune…

Never dreaming that it was a trap to catch him, Molden believed those words completely.

“This concludes the 274th auction.”

Wow, this is fun!

I clutched the paddle to my chest with a pounding heart.

Spending money is really fun! It’s even more fun when it’s someone else’s money!

‘Is this what they call irresponsible pleasure?’

And I even get 1% of the winning bid every time I spend.

So if it sold for 15 million, that’s 150,000 Sern?

Wow, insane. I’m a two-thousandaire. No, wait—”two-thousandaire” isn’t even a thing. I do have a conscience, you know.

Or do I? Don’t I?

“You look happy.”

Cressida collected the paddle I was holding. I suddenly snapped to attention.

“Yeah, this is the first time I’ve ever spent money like this.”

Actually, earlier I’d casually asked if I could do the bidding on Cressida’s behalf. I figured when else would I get a chance like this?

Cressida readily agreed and didn’t even set an upper limit. When I asked what if I spent a hundred million, she said it didn’t matter—that generosity was honestly frightening.

How much money must she have to be able to say that?

“We extend our deepest gratitude to all the distinguished guests in attendance. Winning bidders, please follow the staff’s guidance to the reception rooms to verify your items and complete payment.”

The auctioneer couldn’t hide his beaming face. And well he might.

Apparently this pendant’s appraised value is 7.5 million.

Without a certificate of ownership, they’d have expected to get maybe half the appraised value. But double that had landed in their hands—of course they’d be thrilled.

We followed the approaching staff member to a reception room. But just before we entered, Molden stopped us.

“Excuse me, let’s talk for a moment.”

“I apologize, sir, but the auction has already ended—”

“You there, what’s your name? You don’t seem to know your place!”

At Molden’s thunderous scolding, the staff member shrank back. Even so, he stood blocking our path and wouldn’t step aside.

“Let him speak.”

If it’s just my voice, he’ll never recognize us.

Still, just in case, we’d agreed in advance that I’d handle all conversation with Molden.

That slimy bastard might get suspicious from Cressida’s speech patterns or accent alone.

“Ahem, might I ask which family’s lady you are? I am Darren Molden, second son of the Molden house.”

“I’d like to hear your business briefly.”

“…I wish to purchase the necklace—the <Fragment of Lost Memory>.”

“And now, of all times?”

“Th-that is, madam, this item’s true owner is someone far more important than you imagine. You’ve purchased something you won’t even be able to wear for fifteen million!”

“So you know the owner.”

“She is… someone very important to me.”

Molden bowed his head.

“So I’ll pay any price. Just name your figure.”

His acting was astonishing.

If I’d heard this without knowing anything, I’d have thought there was some tremendous story behind this necklace and its owner.

But when it came to acting, I was now confident I wouldn’t lose to anyone.

“You’ll pay any price?”

“Yes, just say the word…”

“Ten times.”

“Pardon?”

“If the connection is that precious, ten times wouldn’t be too much. One hundred fifty million Sern. What do you say?”

“That’s…!”

I don’t know much about Molden, but just from his expression I could tell he’d just spat out a string of tremendous curses internally.

“P-price… is that pendant really worth that much, then…?”

“And if it is?”

“That’s absolutely ridic—!”

“An item sells at the seller’s discretion. Open the door.”

The staff member, who’d been watching our exchange with interest, hurriedly opened the reception room door.

Cressida went in first, and I half-turned my body, glancing back as I continued. Making sure I looked as if I had no lingering attachment.

“Ten times. I won’t sell for less. If you’re serious about buying, bring a promissory note before I leave the auction house. I can wait about an hour.”

I deliberately mentioned the word “promissory note” in case he gave up—to make him borrow money from a bank or something.

And just before going inside, I added one more line.

“Ah, you could also go find that owner you mentioned and demand the amount from her. If she’s the important person you say, then even one hundred fifty million Sern wouldn’t be too much, would it?”

You believe Cressida would hand over this much if she found out, don’t you?

Even if it amounts to twenty times the appraised value.

“Well then, goodbye.”

With that as my last word, I closed the reception room door.

From outside, I heard him asking the staff to hold us for a moment while he prepared the money.

‘He took the bait nicely.’

Imagining him dashing off to the bank made me a little happy.

If even I, who has no particular grudge against him, feel this way, how must Cressida feel?

“How was it?”

“How was what?”

“Darren Molden. Doesn’t it feel satisfying?”

“Who knows… I’m not sure yet.”

Cressida lowered her eyes with a calm face.

“I don’t feel much of anything. He hasn’t been properly ruined yet. I think I’ll know after I see him crying in prison…”

I must never make an enemy of Cressida.

How on earth did that guy, with nothing to his name, think of messing with the Cressida family?

Just then I made eye contact with the staff member, and he seemed to be thinking something similar.

“Anyway, when do you plan to complete the transaction?”

“Oh, I apologize!”

The staff member snapped to attention like someone electrocuted and hurriedly prepared the pendant, placing it on the table.

“Here is the <Fragment of Lost Memory> and its appraisal certificate. The payment is 15 million Sern, plus a 10% brokerage fee, for a total of 16.5 million Sern.”

Cressida gazed at the pendant on the table with tender eyes, then picked it up and held it in her hand.

Well, of course—it’s her mother’s keepsake, recovered after days. How precious must it be?

“I’d like to meet the seller.”

“I apologize. If the seller requests it, our auction house guarantees strict anonymous selling.”

“I believe there’s an exception when there’s a problem with the item, isn’t there?”

“That is true, but… if you check the appraisal certificate—”

Tap.

An old piece of parchment was laid atop the appraisal certificate.

Looking as though it had been written some two hundred years ago, it was preserved by preservation magic with not a single tear or worn spot, keeping its original form intact.

It was none other than the certificate of ownership for the <Fragment of Lost Memory>.

“I don’t particularly like repeating myself.”

Cressida threw back her robe, revealing her face.

“I said I want to meet the seller.”

It was not a request but an order.

The staff member’s wavering gaze traveled between her face and the certificate of ownership.

I’d heard it’s more common than you’d think for stolen goods to appear at auctions.

Announcing in advance that there’s no certificate of ownership is also to avoid the auction house’s liability if problems arise later.

But what happens when the victim shows up in person on the very same day?

Especially when that victim is both the buyer of the item and Lady Cressida?