Nightmare Realm Summoner

The remaining hour until the auction didn’t go to waste. Alex and his group spent it strategizing. There really wasn’t all that much that they could actually prepare for before the auction properly got started. They already knew generally what leverage they had.

Their biggest tricks were in Alex’s ring. The Corruption Core Class Shard and the key that Crimson was after were his two aces in the hole. Well, that and an absolute metric shit-ton of Mirrorlands monster cores and no shortage of his own credits to work with.

It was almost strange. Alex found it a bit hard to believe that he was actually entering a confrontation with the Outworlders on what could potentially be considered advantageous terms. But Alex wasn’t stupid. He knew that could change in a split instant.

Who knew just how much money the Outworlders had. Maybe what he believed to be wealth was actually nothing more than toilet paper. Everything he’d learned about the System and this new world amounted to nothing more than passing knowledge in their eyes.

He may as well have been a child.

But there was one thing that Alex knew for sure. The System was impartial. It was a real bastard, but it didn’t lie. And according to the Leaderboards, he was still 4th in wealth. So long as the Outworlders were restricted to the riches that they actually had on them and weren’t bartering with potential favors or some other equivalent bullshit… he was certain he’d more than capable of keeping up with them.

Even still, they had to get a few things straight before they left.

It was important that they put on the right kind of show. Even though the auction was apparently anonymous, that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be ways for people to figure out who they were. Crimson would likely know the moment the key went up for sale. Others might not be far behind.

But they had a plan for that.

He’d already donned his tuxedo. The bone mask that Barbara had made him for the Ancestry covered his face, while the others all wore plain, hastily made masks carved from solid pieces of bone that Mite had thrown together in the time leading up to the auction.

And as the timer on the Bleak Night Golden Pass hit zero and a wave of black light erupted from the ticket to swallow all five of them, a grin crossed Alex’s face.

He was actually looking forward to this auction nearly as much as he would have a good fight.

***

The world shifted in an instant.

One moment, Alex was in Mirrorwane.

The next, he was in a spacious room easily the size of his Town Hall. Blood red carpet stretched out beneath him. It was plush in the way that made it abundantly clear that it was expensive. Walls of beautifully carved obsidian rose up around him and came together in a domed ceiling overhead. A small crystal chandelier hung from it, casting glistening light across the room.

The light within the chandelier actually seemed to come from a dozen odd little candles that had been meticulously placed within it. The whole thing had been hung directly over a long table. There were a dozen plates of all manners of food laid out upon it.

Across from the table was an equally long window. A glance through it revealed that they were actually within a cavernous hall. Dull light came from long windows across the hall — clearly more rooms just like the one they currently stood within.

Silhouettes shifted through the other rooms, sharp enough for Alex to make out their presence but not nearly enough that he could have even hoped to figure out who was within them. He squinted even closer. It was completely pointless. The shadows almost felt magically thick. He couldn’t make out anything other than darkness within the shadows.

It looked like the anonymous aspect of the auction hadn’t been exaggerated. And, strangely enough, this didn’t seem too dissimilar to what the System had used back at the Nexus Point. Alex took note of that. There was always a chance the magics were connected. But, at the moment, it didn’t matter.

“Whewh,” Wess said. “Look at this. They really didn’t spare any expenses. You ever see anything like it before? I sure haven’t.”

He picked up what could only be described as an oversized mango from the table. It was about as big as a watermelon.

“Careful,” Mite said. “It could be poisoned.”

“Who poisons their the water they drink from? That would be a damn stupid move,” Wess said through a snort. “You’re fresh to this.”

“What’s that meant to mean?” Mite asked with a frown. “It’s a perfectly reasonable concern. We’re in unknown territory.”

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“We’re the customers,” Wess replied. He poked at the massive mango’s skin, then dug his fingers into it and pulled the whole thing apart with a grunt. It split with a very un-mango-like crack, sending a small spray of juice across the table. “You know who gets rich during a gold rush, kid?”

“The guy that gets there first?” Mite guessed.

“The guy that gets lucky,” Aaron said.

“No,” Wess said. He paused for a moment. “Well, maybe the lucky guy. Depends how lucky. But that’s beside the point. The guy that gets rich 9 times out of 10 is the one selling pickaxes. And we’re buying pickaxes. Every single person in this auction house is.”

“How do you know that for sure?” Alex asked. “You’re just assuming they take a cut off the top?”

“Nobody does anything for free,” Wess said with a snort. “That’s life. They’re definitely taking a cut. And if people go dropping dead midway through the auction because the organizers started killing them to get a bit of quick cash, then nobody’s going to come to the next one. It’s just simple benefit analysis. These people are loan sharks. If you kill the poor sap paying you, you don’t get any more money. The real coin is in keeping them alive and just happy enough to keep coming back and paying you. You best remember that.”

Mite sent a glance at Alex. “How old is Wess, exactly? He sounds like my dad when he started going off on a rant about young kids acting up in ways they never used to before. That or trying to figure out how to connect his toaster to the Wi-Fi. Never could figure it out.”

“Who needs a Wi-Fi activated toaster?” Alex asked.

“Can we stay on topic?” Wess asked in exasperation. “Also, I’m eating this thing. If anyone wants dibs, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Then, without waiting, he raised half of the huge fruit to his mouth and shifted a part of his mask just far enough to the side to take a bite right out of the side. There was a loud crunch as his teeth cut through the fruit’s skin.

Yep. Definitely not a mango. I wonder if we could yoink some of its seeds. Wonder what would happen if we grew it in the Vibrant Garden.

“Save me a bit,” Alex said absently, walking over to the edge of the window overlooking the rest of the hall. He peered out. There were 6 rooms spaced out in a wide semi-circle across from them. He could see more wrapping in their direction. So, assuming the room was as circular as it seemed to be, there were a total of 12.

He had no way to know if all of them were occupied yet. But that did seem to strongly imply that not every single Great Family was present today. There probably wasn’t enough room for them.

I wonder if that means some guys are pissed that they didn’t get an invite. Maybe I can use that later if I figure out who the ones that weren’t invited were… though there’s always a chance that the other families have a special room or some shit like that.

Hell, the same family might have multiple passes. Crimson just gave us a ticket after all. Probably can’t go drawing too many conclusions yet.

Alex’s gaze drifted down to the center of the room. There was a raised platform in the middle of the room that looked to have once been an enormous stalagmite. Its top had been cut off and flattened so that someone could stand upon it. The rest of the stone was completely plain, but it was illuminated by faint light coming from gold crystals that jutted out from the ceiling in large clusters.

Whoever was running the auction didn’t seem to have shown up yet.

“Whoa,” Mite breathed as he walked up alongside Alex. “That’s pretty.”

Alex just grimaced.

“More crystals,” Claire said from behind him. “Ugh.”

That summarized his thoughts pretty well.

“At least they aren’t bubblegum pink,” Alex said. “Whoever grew these ones has a bit more fashion sense than the mimic thing.”

“Don’t look so eager,” Wess said from the table. “It’s amateur.”

Alex glanced over his shoulder at Wess. “Have you done something like this before? You didn’t mention anything about it.”

“Do I have to have done something to realize that you’re looking like a bunch of excited kids in a candy store?”

“Yes,” Alex said. He couldn’t help but notice that they might have been looking a bit too interested. Even if everyone else could only see their shadows, it probably wasn’t smart to look like amateurs. He took a step away from the window. “You don’t strike me as the type that speaks out of his ass, Wess.”

Wess grunted. “I would if I could. But yes, I’ve got experience.”

“Really?” Aaron asked. “How? One of those fancy British ones? Like Witherspoons?”

“Witherspoons is a restaurant,” Alex said.

“Christie’s,” Wess corrected. “Or Sotheby’s. That’s probably what you were thinking of.”

“Oh,” Aaron said. Then his eyes widened. “Wait. So you did work there?”

“Huh? Nah. Of course not. Do I look like the kind of guy that worked an auction?” Wess let out a snort. “I just know of them. Who doesn’t?”

“Aaron, evidently,” Mite said. “Not that I recognize any of the names you’re saying either.”

“It’s fine. There’s nothing left of them now,” Wess said. “Maybe you’re too young. It hardly matters. Just remnants of an old life. But that doesn’t mean some of the rules don’t still apply. You can’t look too eager.”

“He’s right about that,” Claire said as she pulled a chair out. “We don’t want to overplay our hand. But where is your experience for this coming, Wess? You’ve got my curiosity, and until the auctioneer shows up, I don’t think there’s much else to hold it.”

Wess blew out a sigh as everyone sat down around him.

“I’m already regretting mentioning anything,” Wess said. “Can’t we just drop it?”

“I’d rather not,” Alex said. “You’ve got our attention. So… spill. You know your way around guns, so it’s pretty obvious that you used them before the Apocalypse. Private security? Cowboy with a trust fund? Yakuza?”

Wess let out a burst of laughter. “Those are your three guesses?”

“Can I second the cowboy one?” Mite asked. “You strike me as the type who says art sucks and then buys a bunch of stupid modern art pieces that are just white paint on white canvas.”

“First, they aren’t stupid,” Wess said. “It’s about the technique.”

“You are a trust fund baby,” Aaron said. “Whoa.”

“I was not,” Wess snapped. “I just have an appreciation for art. Certain types of it, at least. I’m picky.”

“So what were you?” Alex asked. “You can’t just leave us hanging forever.”

“God forbid a man want to move on with his life. That was a life ago. But if you’re going to be like this… fine.” Wess blew out an exasperated sigh. “Honestly, you weren’t too far off with a few of those. I was a cleaner.”

“What, like a janitor?” Aaron asked, his brow furrowing. “What does that—”

“No,” Mite said suddenly, any humor in his tone gone as his features went serious. “Not that type of cleaner, Aaron. It’s slang. Wess was with the mob. He was a hitman.”