CHAPTER 928: THE SECRET AUCTION (PART-1)

The receptionist hesitated before replying with a careful tone, "Ma’am, your reservation was... canceled earlier this morning. I deeply apologize, but a special VIP guest has reserved the presidential suite, along with all premier suites."

Kate’s tone turned cool. "That’s absurd. I booked that suite a month ago."

The receptionist’s expression turned apologetic. "Yes, Miss Kate, but the request came directly from above. However..." She typed quickly on her screen before adding, "We did reserve a deluxe sea-view suite for you, with full complimentary services."

Kate let out a quiet sigh through her nose, her irritation barely masked. "No need. Do you think the city lacks 5-star hotels? I will..."

"Kate," Orion’s voice cut in softly from beside her, interrupting her. "After lunch, you’ll head to the auction, then straight to your evening flight home, right? Why bother..."

She turned to him, half-ready to argue — but his reasoning made sense. After a pause, she exhaled. "Fine."

The soul energyger, who had hurried over mid-conversation, bowed apologetically as he processed the check-in. "Please understand, Miss Moreau. We are helpless in this matter."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, brushing it off. Then, turning to Orion, she said with a faint smile, "Let’s not waste energy on this. I’ll save my temper for the auction."

Orion chuckled quietly.

Soon, they followed the bellboy toward the elevators.

Meanwhile, in the presidential suite, a man, whose presence seemed to bend the air around him, sat in the center of the room and scrolling the tablet in his hands.

Alexander Magnolis looked thirty, but the calm in his eyes carried years no mortal man should possess. He wore a suit cut to a knife’s edge and a watch that flickered with encrypted feeds. Around him stood three men in identical black suits; they were not mere bodyguards, but considered living fortresses with each one having hundreds of soul energy particles.

"Silver, what is it?" Alex asked without looking up, as the man at his left put down his phone.

"Boss," Silver replied crisply. "Our men have reached the outskirts of the city. They will be here soon enough."

"No, let them stay." Alex shook his head. "Tell them to wait."

"But, Boss, you booked the entire floor, I thought..."

"Just tell them to wait for the orders." As his words cut in, Silver nodded, "Understood."

A shadow moved at the edge of his circle. The second man, called Bert, folded his hands and asked the question Alex had expected. "Boss... what do you plan on doing, exactly?" Bert’s tone was softer than Silver’s, but it was more direct. "Are we locking down the city or are we waiting for an ambush from Heaven’s Gate..."

Alex’s lips sealed tight at that. He didn’t give any reply and simply stayed silent. The last bodyguard, Tempest, patted Bert and pulled him away, knowing very well that their boss wouldn’t speak if he didn’t want to reveal.

Meanwhile, Alex’s gaze was on the holographic screen that was only visible to him. On it, displayed the words, specifically a mission from the system.

Mission: Defeat the Fallen Angel Azazel and absorb his essence orb

Time left until Resurrection: 0 days.

Reward: Absolute reality Manipulation (Unlock)

Alex clenched his fists instinctively when he read those details for the nth time. He leaned forward, the light catching the sharp planes of his face.

It had been four years since he had transmigrated into this world, into the body of Alexander Magnolis, a trash of the Magnolis family who was expelled and later killed on the way. As Azzy was away during that time, he had no idea that a transmigration from another world had happened. For the other demigods, they could only sense it like reincarnation with mysterious power, which is not that rare in this world. Hence, he didn’t receive any attention from the cosmic entities or the hidden experts that protect this world.

And for three years, Alex has gone through so much, turning from a trash to a Rank-9 in a matter of these years, using the power of the system. He is now maintaining an underground gang of elite experts.

This world is where people could live for thousands of years. Technically, having the strength of rank-9, he should be able to live for so long, too. However, for some reason, his life span didn’t increase a bit. It was fixed at 75 years old, less than even what a plainfolk (one with no soul energy) could live here. The only way to break these shackles is to directly become a demigod and get 100,000 years of life span at once.

While the dream is still far away, Alex was hoping to turn this event into an opportunity. He couldn’t help but imagine the shiver of power he could gain from absorbing the essence of a fallen angel. There was a heavy hunger in his eyes as he stared into the distance. "No one had the right to claim that power but me. Even if the resurrection calls every predator in the world to that place," he murmured in his head. "I will not allow anyone to lay a finger on that core."

"No one can get it," he repeated again in his head in almost a growl. "That power is mine to claim. Mine alone..."

A few hours later;

The sun had barely begun to dip when Orion and Kate arrived at Griffin Manor. The sprawling estate loomed ahead with its gates gilded and its walls draped in ivy that had grown wild over decades. It looked ancient yet strangely alive.

Kate presented her invitation crystal, and the guards, clad in soul energy-powered armor, stepped aside.

"Miss Kate. Welcome to the House Griffin Charity Auction," one of them greeted politely. "And your escort?"

She replied smoothly. "He’s with me."

The guard scanned his bracelet, nodded once, and let them through.

As they entered the main grounds, Orion blinked.

The gravel path transformed into a red carpet, lined with photographers and flashing lights. Dozens of elegantly dressed men and women walked past — some in tuxedos, others in robes etched with glowing runes. The air was filled with chatter and camera flashes.

"What the—" Orion muttered.

He turned his gaze toward the people posing for the media, recognizing several famous hunters and even a few idols he’d seen in magazines. Reporters pushed forward, shouting questions. The entire atmosphere was glitzy, glamorous... and wrong.

"Didn’t expect this to be a media circus," he said under his breath.

Kate, walking beside him with practiced poise, simply smiled and adjusted her silver hairpin. "Auctions like these often double as PR events, Orion. Don’t worry—just keep your mask on and stay quiet."

He nodded — but then, something shifted. "This is an illusion..."

Orion shut his eyes and then opened them with his divine energy wrapping around his eyes.

In the blink of an eye, the carpet vanished. The flashing lights died. The cameras, the glamorous guests — gone.

The so-called "media personnel" were nowhere to be seen.

Orion froze in surprise.

She then stopped and glanced back over her shoulder. "What are you spacing out for? Forget about those celebrities. Come on."

He straightened, giving a small nod. "Coming."

Orion followed silently behind Kate as she strode gracefully down the red carpet, smiling faintly toward both sides where clusters of "guests" stood in their tailored suits and glittering dresses.

Every few seconds, she nodded politely, like a noble greeting acquaintances at a gala.

Orion, however, couldn’t bring himself to mimic her as he couldn’t see anything after dispelling the illusion. hence, he could only walk forward with his expression remained unreadable beneath the wolf mask.

And just as he stepped inside...

Orion froze for a heartbeat. "A... dungeon?"

He could feel different set of laws applied in this place as he walked into it.

The moment Orion and Kate crossed into the grand hall, his eyes fell on the scene. A dozen chandeliers floated above, flickering with an eerie golden hue. The light reflected against rows of dark oil paintings that lined the walls—portraits of men and women from some long-gone aristocracy. It really looked like a medieval castle.

Kate kept her expression perfectly neutral, her heels clicking softly as she followed the attendant who escorted them. Orion walked half a step behind her like a bodyguard he was supposed to be, as his gaze roamed the entire room.

The hall was large, circular, and strangely symmetrical. Thirteen tables were arranged evenly along the ring, each covered in blood-red cloth, four chairs to a table. There is a number and a name assigned to each table, a paddle with the number resting in the center.

As soon as they stepped in, Orion felt eyes turn toward them, some curious, others sharp and assessing. Kate didn’t so much as blink; her poker face remained immaculate as she followed the attendant toward their designated place—Table 9.

Orion pulled out the chair for her and sat beside, maintaining silence, though his senses were stretched to their limits.

Orion’s gaze swept across the room without turning his head. "How strong are they? I wonder..."