[...had been flagged under a Level Red security protocol. You are an anomaly.]
The scar-faced guard's words hung in the cold night air, accompanied by the simultaneous clicks of pistols being cocked. The muzzles of the black tactical weapons now pointed straight at Elara's chest.
Time seemed to slow. The drizzle soaking the alley's asphalt sounded like a clock ticking down the seconds of Elara's remaining life. Yet Elara didn't move back even a millimeter. She let the silence take over, her eyes hidden behind a silk mesh veil staring straight at the guard without the slightest tremor of fear.
Inside her mind, the Absolute System flickered, scanning the radio frequencies around them. Elara had just prepared to activate the EMP hacker in her bag to blind the guard's communications equipment and glasses when a sudden burst of static crackled through the earpiece in the guard's ear.
The guard tilted his head slightly. His jaw muscles tightened. Slowly, he lowered his pistol. He signaled to his partner to cancel his firing position as well.
"My apologies, Vanguard representative," the guard said, his voice now far more formal and cautious. "Our system has just received a manual override authorization from the highest level. The auction host has personally cleared the way for you. Please enter."
Elara showed no emotion, nor did she sigh in relief. She merely gave a small, imperious nod before walking past the two towering men as though they were nothing more than stone statues.
The old iron door at the end of the alley slid open without a sound, revealing an obsidian-black glass elevator that contrasted sharply with the squalor outside. Elara stepped inside. As soon as the elevator doors closed, she felt gravity pull at her while the glass cage descended deep into the earth beneath Metropolis.
The basement of the Opera House was truly an entirely different world. When the elevator doors opened again, Elara was greeted by classical jazz played live by a quartet in the corner. The scents of expensive cigars, high-end perfume, and silver champagne filled the air.
Obsidian Lounge was designed like a Victorian aristocrat's drawing room fused with touches of dark modernism. Crystal chandeliers cast a dim golden glow. Throughout the room, men and women dressed in haute couture—most of them hiding their faces behind porcelain masks, domino masks, or veils like Elara's—sat on red velvet sofas, whispering about the trillions of dollars in dirty money that kept the city's economy turning.
A tailcoat-clad attendant approached Elara, bowing respectfully as he offered her a silver tray. On it sat a glass of champagne and a glass-thin digital tablet encased in a layer of titanium.
"Welcome to Obsidian Lounge. This is your bidding device for tonight, ma'am," the attendant whispered.
Elara ignored the champagne and took only the tablet. She walked toward a slightly secluded corner of the room and leaned against one of the black marble pillars surrounding the main floor.
"System," Elara commanded silently, her gaze fixed on the tablet screen displaying the auction countdown. "Break the tablet's local encryption. I want to see the complete catalog of tonight's auction before it begins, and make sure you isolate our connection so Vektor can't trace this IP."
[Processing... Local network isolation successful. Tablet encryption breached in 0.4 seconds. Displaying catalog.]
The screen on Elara's retina flickered, overlaying her physical vision with a list of secret auction lots. Lots 1 through 6 contained things that made human morality feel like a joke: stolen blueprints for prototype military technology, evidence of a prominent senator's affair, and an illegal diamond-mining contract on another continent.
But Elara's eyes went straight to Lot 7.
Item Description: Offline Data Drive "A.S."—Unaudited Double Ledger. Starting Bid: $3,000,000.
There it was. A data chip containing evidence of her uncle Arthur Sterling's money laundering. Three million dollars was merely the opening bid. In a room filled with financial predators, that price could soar into the tens of millions within seconds. Elara gently clenched the end of her purse. She had $15,400,000 in liquidity from manipulating the stock market that morning. In the real world, that was an enormous sum. But in this room, she realized she was nothing more than a small fish trying to snatch meat from a shark's jaws.
At exactly nine p.m., the jazz faded. A middle-aged man in a gray tuxedo stepped onto the small stage in the center of the room. There was no wooden auction hammer, no characteristic auctioneer's cries. This was a blind auction; all bids were submitted anonymously through tablets, and the highest figure was recorded instantly on the giant screen behind the auctioneer.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome," the man's voice rang calmly through hidden speakers. "We'll begin with Lot 1."
Elara held her breath and waited patiently as the first six lots sold for staggering sums. Each time a lot was sold, the giant screen displayed only the winner's random identification number. The silence in the room felt far more ominous than any firefight; here, the fates of thousands of people and the futures of giant corporations were destroyed with nothing more than a tap of a finger on a glass screen.
"We've arrived at Lot 7," the auctioneer said. "A fascinating offline data compilation. The double ledger of one of Metropolis's most prominent philanthropists. I believe those who understand the value of a 'reputation' will appreciate this lot greatly. Opening bid: three million dollars."
Elara touched her tablet screen. Her slender fingers typed in a number.
$5,000,000.
The giant screen on the stage flickered. Current high bid: $5 Million—Bidder 404.
Just two seconds later, the figure changed again. Someone in the room had countered her bid.
$8,000,000—Bidder 012.
Elara clenched her jaw. Whoever was bidding knew exactly how dangerous Arthur Sterling's information was. Elara didn't waste any time. She typed in a new figure.
$10,000,000—Bidder 404.
The room, previously filled with casual whispers, began to fall silent. Such an aggressive bidding war always drew attention. Eyes behind masks began sweeping the room, trying to guess the identities of the two lunatics fighting over this secret ledger.
$13,000,000—Bidder 012.
Elara's breath caught. She had barely two million dollars in liquidity left. If she pushed past her limit, she'd exhaust all her capital before facing Adrian tomorrow. But without this data chip, she'd never be able to bring down her uncle.
This was her moment to prove herself. She couldn't lose.
With fingers trembling slightly but filled with murderous resolve, Elara entered the entirety of her remaining Vanguard Trust balance.
$15,400,000—Bidder 404.
The auctioneer onstage smiled faintly. "Fifteen point four million dollars. An exceptionally precise figure from Bidder 404. Is there a higher—"
Before he could finish, the giant screen flickered again, this time flooding the room with vivid red.
$25,000,000—Bidder 012.
The blood seemed to drain from Elara's body in an instant. Twenty-five million dollars. That person had raised the bid by nearly ten million dollars in a single breath—a devastating blow designed to crush their opponent's morale and demonstrate absolute financial dominance. Elara had been utterly outmatched in liquidity.
Who are you? Elara screamed inwardly. If Arthur Sterling were trying to buy the data back, he wouldn't bid so aggressively. He'd use thugs to silence the seller. Anyone willing to spend twenty-five million dollars to destroy Arthur had to possess a grudge or ambition far greater than ordinary blackmail.
"System," Elara commanded, her frustration exploding into a reckless decision. "I don't care if you have to crack the auction firewall. Trace Bidder 012's bid transmission route. Find where that tablet's signal is coming from!"
[Forcing intrusion into Obsidian Lounge's closed network... Encryption breached in 1.2 seconds. Tracking Bidder 012's tablet frequency... The signal is emanating from the West VIP Balcony on the upper level of this room.]
Elara looked up toward the one-way glass balcony suspended above the main floor. From down here, it looked like nothing more than a dark mirror reflecting the light of the crystal chandeliers.
"Hack the internal security cameras inside that balcony. I need to see who the bastard who just beat me is," Elara growled.
A familiar pain stabbed her temples again as the System pierced the CCTV security layer in the private room. The screen in her retina slowly opened a real-time video feed. The image, initially filled with digital snow, gradually sharpened, revealing the luxurious interior of the VIP balcony.
A man sat casually on an expensive leather sofa, holding an auction tablet in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. The dim glow from the tablet screen illuminated his face.
Elara's heart seemed to stop. All her business calculations collapsed for a moment, replaced by a wave of pure shock and fury. The man wasn't Arthur, nor was he a hired lackey.
The room's internal camera displayed the face of the figure holding the bidding tablet, who turned out to be]