The list was ridiculously long, spanning at least twenty tacked up sheets of paper and covering most of the wall. Inke gave it a once-over, hoping that someone would have the common sense and decency to at least put up drawings or even write the names of each item sold in large letters.

Unfortunately, no such thing had occurred, causing Inke to sigh. Rarely, a city would give the rights to the Auctioneer Guild to sell a majority of products as opposed to the Merchant Guild. Typically, that occurred because the nobles wanted to be able to control most of the trade in the city, but also if the Merchant Guild disliked one of the Council members involved.

However, that situation created a severe disadvantage due to the fact that using the Auctioneer Guild to purchase any common items or anything in bulk was deeply impractical. As a result, they had set up a system that could be used for less expensive items that demand wasn’t as high for. Each individual lot could be bid on daily, and at the day’s end, the highest bidder would take it home, similar to the live auctions. The difference lay in the fact that it ran for much longer.

In such a situation, someone rich enough could theoretically prevent anyone else from purchasing goods. Where the Merchant Guild operated on a first-come, first-serve basis, a wealthy patron could simply place a high enough bid to deter anyone else from buying a product.

It was the main reason that nobles preferred the Auctioneer Guild, while the average adventurer or even citizen, in general, liked the Merchant Guild far more.

Inke personally found the Auctioneer Guild to be far more desirable. While their practices were morally dubious at best and immorally elitist at worst, Inke happened to be one of the rich elites that they catered to. Their policies made Inke’s life much easier than the Merchant Guild’s, no matter how annoying the individual auctioneers could be.

Sure, anyone who didn’t have massive amounts of wealth despised the system, but Inke had always operated under a self-serving policy. It didn’t matter to her if someone else’s life happened to worsen because of Inke’s benefit.

Unless she knew them. Inke was really only invested in the lives and general circumstances of people known to her.

Lines had formed in front of desks, people waiting in line to place their bids with the novice auctioneers. The Auctioneer Guild trained their new applicants by sticking them at the heads of long lines of disgruntled adventurers who were dismayed at the lack of merchants.

It was a pretty effective training system. Additionally, the method served to weed out anyone who wouldn’t be able to deal with a live auction.

Inke stepped into the shortest looking one. Squinting at the wall far ahead of her, she tapped her foot as the line inched slowly forward. She took a moment to glance at the other fifteen or so lines, unsure why people kept going into longer lines instead of the faster one.

Eh. People could be extremely incompetent at times, Inke had found.

When Inke reached the front, she began, “Hello, I was wondering-”

The auctioneer gave a sheepish laugh, pointing to a sign above herself. “If you want anything besides Crystal transaction and exchanges, you’re going to need a different line.” At Inke’s blink of surprise, the woman shrugged and said with a grin, “You looked lost, and I’ve picked up an eye for that sort of thing after a few years working with the Auctioneer Guild.” Clicking her tongue, she added, “Sometimes, I wonder if it’s specifically designed to be as confusing as possible to those unaware. No worries.”

“Thanks, then,” Inke said, moving out of the line. There were advantages to flashing the Shatter symbol everywhere she went, that was certain. Interacting as an average adventurer without special privileges was terrible. Frankly, Inke had no idea how normal people survived without being treated as an honored guest wherever they went.

Grimacing, she looked up at the signs hung above each station that Inke had ignored until then. Above the line she’d just stepped out of was a sign labeled ‘Crystal’, while she was checking if any of them held something that might indicate protective gear was auctioned there. Not ‘Weapons’, definitely not ‘Raw Material’, but ‘Enchanted Jewelry’ looked promising. Adventurers loved to use rings and such, considering that there wasn’t much of a limit to how many could be worn beyond possibly finger length.

She’d seen Guildmaster Shatter, for one, wearing upwards of thirty rings and five necklaces before heading into a difficult fight. High-level adventurers tended to be quite rich, and every advantage helped in a dungeon where everything was designed to be as deadly as possible.

The ‘Enchanted Jewelry’ line was, of course, one of the longest. Luckily, though, it moved quickly, and as Inke drew closer to the front of the line, she could see that it was a result of the multiple auctioneers at the head.

Whatever might be said about the Auctioneer Guild’s elitist policies, no one could hope to argue the fact that they were certainly efficient. While the more popular lines were longer, they had more auctioneers to make up for that fact, giving similar waiting times no matter what someone was hoping to buy.

Inke was at the front of the line when one of the auctioneers opened up, so she stepped off to the side and in front of the desk. “I’m looking to place a bid on some protective jewelry.”

The auctioneer offered her a smile. “Of course, of course!” he said. “We have plenty of protective jewelry, ranging from our most common Earth styles to a few rarer pieces, if I could interest you in those?”

She shook her head. “No, Earth will do fine.” Furrowing her brow, Inke continued, “Something simple, I think. Do you have any Silver rings? Probably not a necklace, but an earring will do as well.” Inke thought for another moment. Assuming that she didn’t want Harin to die if they ended up facing the boss again, low-tier Silver wouldn’t do. “V or better.”

He winced. “Apologies, but currently, our stock of Silver gear is limited to live auctions only due to the size of this branch.” Pausing for a moment, the auctioneer rubbed at his chin. “Our next live auction will be taking place in,” he glanced at a large, ticking clock on the other side of the room, “an hour and twenty-one minutes.”

Inke sighed. That had been a wasted half an hour standing in line. She knew for a fact that if they didn’t even have Silver rings, there wasn’t going to be high-quality healing potions, either. Without another word, she left the line, heading over to Harin.

He was waiting for her, leaning against the wall opposite the lines. Currently, however, Harin was engrossed in what must have been a deeply engaging conversation with a boy dressed in elegant clothes. Harin was gesticulating wildly, and even as far as Inke was from them, if she focused, she could catch snippets.

Not that she was terribly interested in their conversation, so Inke didn’t bother.

As she closed the distance, however, it was difficult to ignore their rather loud argument. Or what could be politely called an emotionally charged discussion.

“…You simply do not understand me, Harin!” the teenager said. His face screwed up, anger flashing through. “They are serious, this time. Whatever you may have experienced years ago will pale in comparison to their current attempts. If you insist on continuing down the path you have laid out for yourself, I cannot be held responsible for any unfortunate accidents that may befall you-”

Inke forced her way into the conversation by physically inserting herself between the two, arms outstretched as if to hold each person back. She turned to Harin. “Do you need some help?”

He offered her a weak grin. “Uh, n-not really?”

She crossed her arms and fixed him with a disbelieving look.

The boy apparently didn’t appreciate being ignored, making his presence known with a forceful cough. “A-hem. Seeing as Harin and I were conversing, you ought to-”

“N-no, Tyen, this is Inke, she’s b-been helping me with the dungeon.” Harin intervened, hands held up in the air. “Look, we can talk l-later, alright?”

Tyen shot a dark glare at Inke. “I shall be seeing you, then, Harin.” With a flounce in his step, he whipped around and stalked off to parts unknown.

Harin laughed shakily. “Yeah, well, that’s T-Tyen. His parents are both on the Council.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know he c-can be, uh, standoffish at times, but I promise that he means well.”

Inke shrugged. She didn’t have a reason to care about some random teenager’s attitude. No, Inke considered herself above petty considerations like those. “Well, we’ll have to attend a live auction.” She scrunched up her mouth. “Speaking with the voice of experience, they’re terrible.”

“R-really? I hadn’t thought they were so bad…” Harin trailed off, staring at his shoes.

She nodded. “Oh, definitely.”

“Welcome one, welcome all! And here we are today at the live auction for the Aerthe City Auctioneer Guild branch!” An auctioneer with tanned skin and straight black hair stood on a central stage surrounded by a crowd. She flashed a gleaming white grin, dark eyes sparkling. “I’m Chal, if you don’t know me, but with how active this bunch has been, I’m sure that almost all of you have attended one of these before!”

Holding up her hands to forestall reactions from the crowd, she continued, “Yes, yes, I know, procedure sucks, what can I say? I’m right up here commiserating with the rest of you. I mean, hey, I’m the one who has to read off this spiel every auction!”

With a deep inhale, Chal rapidly fired off a string of words that were barely comprehensible to Inke. “Everyone who’s planning to participate should have informed a member of the Auctioneer Guild ahead of time; yes, I see you in the green shirt in the back waving your hand, if you don’t have a paddle already with a number on it, hand over the fee to a nearby member who’ll be over to assist you shortly; today’s bids can be found on the list right behind me!”

Chal continued, but Inke ignored the auctioneer, glancing at the giant sheet of unfurled paper. Words were splashed across it in bold black ink, large enough to be seen by members of the audience. In yet another example of shining moral values, the Auctioneer Guild didn’t inform anyone of the lots being sold in any given live auction beforehand, forcing bidders to either pay the fee and possibly purchase nothing or risk missing something useful.

The branch of the Guild around Rain’s dungeon was currently small, comprising only five rows of seated visitors around the central stage. While curious observers were free to watch the auction without any cost, they were forced to stand in the limited space available for viewing. However, as fee-paying bidders, Inke and Harin were seated in the second row, easily close enough to read the words.

As Harin mumbled something on her right, Inke scanned the list. It was sorted by type, she only had to find the header of ‘Enchanted Jewelry’ and check the lots sorted under it.

After a few lines of random objects, Inke chanced upon what she needed. While not the most ideal, a Pebble’s Perseverance Ring would serve her purposes nicely. Decent bonuses to Endurance, and thus, to Health, along with a minor regeneration effect. Though the name could probably use some work, Inke’s concern lay more in keeping Harin alive.

Enchanted Jewelry, unfortunately, lay at fifth on the list, forcing Inke to wait through several torturously loud and chaotic bidding wars. They were petty squabbles, too, over objects as common as flaming swords, which in Inke’s experience were more harmful than useful, with flames that ran all the way to the hilt and had an unfortunate tendency to burn hands.

Finally, Chal said, “A Pebble’s Perseverance Ring! Name could be prettier, yes, yes, I know, but don’t judge by that! Silver threaded with some Earth Crystal, quality assured by both the Auctioneer Guild and the Crafter Guild. This ring grants an Endurance bonus of twenty-five, and the wearer can channel Mana to it in exchange for Health. All around useful for any adventurer, ranked at Silver VII by a certified enchanter.

“Bidding starts at ten second-tier Crystals, minimum increase of one second-tier!”

The boss had only dropped sixty-seven second-tier, and it was one hundred of a lower Crystal to one tier higher. For the average adventurer, such an object would be worth the price the moment it saved their life, but it was an expensive purchase, one not necessarily critical to survival.

Inke, however, believed in the power of overdoing things when reasonably possible. She raised her paddle marked with a set of runic script understood only by the Auctioneer Guild. “Thirty second-tier Crystals,” she called out, standing up. Her voice rang out clearly, and Inke noted several people who had begun to rise sitting back down.

Chal looked around. “Any counter-offers, any counter-offers? We have thirty second-tier Crystals right here in the second row, quite the fast bid raise!” When no one spoke up, her voice filled the silence, saying, “Alright, the Pebble’s Perseverance Ring is sold for thirty second-tier Crystals! Please see the nearest member of the Auctioneer Guild once the live auction is finished to exchange your Crystal for your new purchase. Now, now, onto the next lot…”

Tuning Chal out, Inke wondered if there was a way to leave early. It would probably be rude to leave in the middle of the live auction, and the throng of observers was thick enough that attempting to exit would be difficult, but Inke could do it. Harin, less so, but as long as she led the way, he could follow in her wake.

She made an aborted attempt to stand, but Harin’s hand tugging at her arm dissuaded Inke. With a quiet sigh, she reseated herself and allowed her mind to wander. At some point during the day, Inke needed to conduct investigations into Harin’s situation. Tyen, from earlier, seemed like a good source, but she was unsure of his relationship with Harin.

On one hand, his angry demeanor and parents’ status in the Council, an organization that Inke was decently sure was working against Harin, implied that Tyen was an enemy. Therefore, information from him would be suspect at best. On the other hand, however, Tyen had warned Harin about something, which didn’t seem like a move someone antagonistic towards Inke’s party member would take.

Inke looked at the item Chal was showing off and compared it to the list. They were onto the eleventh category, more than halfway through the live auction.

It didn’t feel like it.

Then, again, Inke had run into quite a few idiotic nobles in the past. Something about having status in combination with wealth, or even solely one of the two, caused people to make extremely poor decisions. Tyen’s ‘warning’ might have been a vague threat wrapped up in a layer of intimidation and posturing.

However, Inke’s thoughts screeched to a halt as she heard Chal call out another lot.

“And here, the crowning jewel of today’s auction… though, I know someone leaked the info!” She winked to a bout of laughter from the crowd. “That’s why there’s so many of you with eyes on today’s auction, after all! We’ve got a set of Gold III healing potions here! Three of them, top quality, almost instant-acting, fresh in from the latest shipment. This is the only lot we’re likely to have for maybe a month, so if you want them, now’s the time to get them!”

Holding up a wooden box, Chal slowly turned, tilting at an angle so that each member of the crowd could see the potions within. They were a brilliant ruby-red, nestled in a rich velvet lining. Her grin sharpened. “Bidding starts at one fourth-tier Crystal, minimum increase of twenty third-tier.”

That was spare change to Inke, whose appropriately leveled dungeons of choice dropped fifth-tier Crystal from an average monster. However, for the rest of the bidders, a murmur spread across the crowd, slight discontent threaded through it at the price.

Inke was about to call out a bid, but someone else was faster. On her left, a figure of medium height stood, holding his paddle high in the air. “Two fourth-tier Crystals.”

She squinted at him. The man was far from her, but Inke could barely make out some of his facial features. He appeared quite determined, lips upturned with an assumption of victory with his bid.

In an area as poor as Aerthe City, were Inke not there, it likely would have been enough. Unfortunately for the man, Inke was there, and she needed those potions.

Well, she didn’t, but that was beside the point. Inke may have had fourteen left in her spatial bags, but she preferred to have at least twenty-five at any given moment. Less than that made her feel anxious.

“Three fourth-tier Crystals.” One fourth-tier a potion was about average priced, so Inke would give her opponent a chance to back out before they got into a bidding war.

Any bidding war would be one that Inke would win. She didn’t want to spend ten times as much as she had to, though. A Crystal saved was a Crystal earned, and all that.

If Inke thought about that logic, there was something wrong with it, but she didn’t care to overthink the paradigm.

The other bidder’s jaw tightened. “Three fourth-tier Crystals and twenty third-tier,” he growled. Crossing his arms across his chest, he scowled deeply.

“Three fourth-tier Crystals and forty third-tier.”

“Three fourth-tier Crystals and sixty third-tier.”

One of Inke’s eyebrows rose. That was how he wanted to play the game, then. Inke mentally shrugged. She didn’t care to spend overly much time on a slow, incrementally increasing bid when Inke could simply raise the price and win the lot. “Six fourth-tier Crystals.”

Next to her, Harin’s mouth had fallen open in shock. The sounds of gasps could be heard across the crowd.

On the stage, Chal’s composure remained professional, and she didn’t bat an eye at the sudden jump in price, more than twice the typical for the item being sold. In fact, considering that auctioneers took home a more-than-decent commission from items they managed to sell, she was probably overjoyed, though Chal didn’t show any it if she was.

The man gaped. Eyes widened in shock, he choked out, “Six fourth-tier and…” Shaking his head, he trailed off. “…I can’t.” Stunned gaze filling his face, he sat abruptly.

Chal’s blindingly bright grin returned in full force, though she was probably disappointed that no full-on bidding war had occurred, driving the price up even higher. “Any other offers?” She paused, waiting to see if the audience reacted. “No? No other offers? Alright, going once, going twice, and sold! Same purchaser of the Pebble’s Perseverance Ring, you know the drill, hand over the Crystal at the end of this and get the potions in exchange.

“Luckily for you, we are at the end of today’s live auction! Please disperse calmly, no pushing, no shoving, I can promise you that no one will appreciate that, and remain aware that the Auctioneer Guild has several sentries on standby in the event of a scuffle. I’d hate for anyone to get into trouble, really, I would.”

Harin tapped Inke on the shoulder, aborting her motion to try and leave ahead of the crowd. “L-let’s wait for people to exit.”

Inke nodded. That made sense.

He ducked his head. “But, um, do you know what the other bidder w-wanted those potions for?”

She shrugged. It probably wasn’t important.

“Please, I need those potions.” The other bidder was standing in front of Inke, having accosted her once she exited the auction house. “I’m begging you; I’ll pay you three fourth-tier Crystals for a single potion.” His eyes were shining. “I don’t care about the other two, please, I only need one of them.”

Inke tilted her head in confusion, brow wrinkling. For him to be willing to pay such an exorbitant price for a singular potion, the man must truly have been desperate.

Voice thick, he choked out, “My four-year-old daughter is dying of a terrible illness. None of the local healers are strong enough to cure her, but those Gold healing potions are my only hope to save her.” To Inke’s mounting surprise, he dropped down on one knee and stared up at her imploringly. “If you allow me to buy one of those potions from you, I, Keolisedeu of House Iloph, shall be in your eternal debt.”

When Inke didn’t respond, Harin cleared his throat, standing next to her. “Hey, Inke, shouldn’t we at least try to help, uh, Keolisedeu out?” At his sides, Harin’s hands fidgeted nervously. “I m-mean, if it’s the money you’re worried about, he’s even willing to pay you, so, um, yeah?”

It was a good argument from Harin, but he’d failed to take into account the fact that Inke simply didn’t care. The money didn’t matter to her, not with how rich she was, and his apparent plight failed to stir her heart. Inke, after all, didn’t have any reason to be emotionally impacted by the death of a person that she had never met.

With that in mind, Inke would far more content with a few more potions in her spatial bag, as compared to less peace of mind if she gave or sold one to Keolisedeu and nothing to show for it.

Inke shrugged. “No. I’m planning to hold onto these.” She waved Harin forward with one hand. “Let’s go, Harin.”

Harin worried at his lower lip, glancing to the side. “I g-g-guess…”

After all, it wasn’t as if Inke would ever run into Keolisedeu again. And even if she did, he couldn’t possibly hope to challenge her.

She didn’t miss, however, the furious glare that the man shot at Inke’s back as they departed.

Inke needed to track down Tyen. To that end, asking Harin was the most efficient and direct method of achieving that. “Harin,” she said, “where were you planning to talk to Tyen?”

“Oh!” he exclaimed. A flush crept up his neck. “Uh, my house? It’s, well, not exactly the most secret place in the history of secret places, but it’s pretty private, and that’s where we usually meet.” Seemingly assuming that more explanation was required, Harin continued, “We used to chat at Tyen’s house, but his parents wouldn’t really approve, so we moved places since no one else lives with me and I have a huge house.”

She tipped her head. “Lead the way, then.”

Harin took them down a winding pathway that led a decent way out of the city proper and into the farmland on the outskirts. He began some rambling explanation about the lack of workers for the land and how he’d let it all go in the intervening years, but Inke was more interested in the paved pathway. Its existence implied that the distance between Harin’s home and Aerthe City was typical, rather than a result of the dungeon’s location, but that seemed odd to Inke.

Not that any of it was her business, so Inke didn’t ask. Instead, she simply stayed quiet and let Harin chatter.

The path took several more winding turns that seemed almost designed to throw someone off the trail before leveling out into a perfectly straight line that ended in a tall, grand house that Inke wouldn’t hesitate to describe as a manor.

Harin tipped his head at the manor. “Welcome to my home, I guess.” He stepped forward, inserting a key from his pocket into the lock. When an audible click sound was heard, he twisted the doorknob and opened it to Tyen’s glower.

He jumped back, flinching. “A-ah! T-tyen! I, uh, I w-wasn’t expecting you so early!”

Tyen, however, ignored Harin, sticking his head out of the door and craning it around. Satisfied by whatever he found, he pulled Harin inside the manor. It was by a narrow margin that the teenager avoided catching Inke as he slammed the door shut. And that was only because Inke utilized her short height to her advantage, ducking under Tyen’s arm and into the manor.

He glared at Inke, brown eyes narrowed and suspicious. “Harin,” Tyen remarked, “are you entirely certain that you would like to allow this adventurer into your home? I,” he cracked his knuckles, “would be happy to remove her.”

Internally, Inke was in hysterics at the thought, but externally, her composure was placid.

Harin, however, had no such compunctions. He chuckled weakly. “Ah, good luck? It’s fine, though, really!” He added the last word at Tyen’s look of doubt. “Inke saved my life from the dungeon boss, so, um, we can trust her.”

At that claim, Tyen’s brows shot up. “Very well,” he said, “I trust you.” A nasty glare at Inke made it clear precisely which of the two he meant.

Inke sighed. “Great, that’s sorted out.” She walked further into the manor and turned so that she could face both simultaneously. “So, who’s trying to kill Harin?”

“How would-”

“N-no one!”

As they spoke over each other, Tyen slapped a palm over Harin’s mouth. Inke was decently sure that Harin was grimacing under the hand, but it was hard to tell.

“How would you possibly be aware of that?” Tyen asked.

“Not that hard to figure out when Harin talks about assassinations and then almost dies to a boss far above his level.” The corners of her lips quirked up. “Unless you’re suggesting that I’m part of the assassination plot?”

“And if I am?”

She shrugged. “I don’t particularly care for what anyone else thinks of me. I’m not; it’s that simple.”

Harin made himself known by commenting, “C-can we please try to get along? Tyen, Inke is my party member, and I trust her.” With a firm nod, he turned to Inke. “Inke, Tyen’s family might hate me, but he’s better than the rest of them.”

Tyen deflated. “I would take offense at that, Harin, but for the unfortunate truth of that fact.”

Inke clapped. “Alright, we’ve sorted introductions. So, back to the assassination plot?”

The three of them sat around a small, circular wooden table. Inke, more accurately, stood due to the fact that there were only two chairs in the entire huge mansion. Both of them were occupied.

Background was out of the way. While Inke hadn’t expounded much on her own, leaving Harin and Tyen to their assumptions, they had explained their shared past.

As a child, Tyen had been a sterling, archetypical example of an entitled, snobbish noble brat, constantly teasing and belittling the older Harin for his orphan status. However, as they had grown up, Tyen had come to realize that Harin ended up in more deadly situations than any child had the right to from time spent around the older boy. Some childish investigations had led to the unfortunate knowledge of Tyen’s parents’ attempts on Harin’s life.

An average child might have assumed their parents’ infallibility. Tyen, however, despite his general demeanor, was possessed of an extremely strong moral code and horrified at the assassination attempts. He’d helped Harin to avoid them for the next decade and a half or thereabouts.

Then, the discovery of the dungeon and all that entailed.

Inke frowned. “While that’s a wonderfully riveting tale, I don’t see why we can’t simply break into Tyen’s house and kill his parents.”

Tyen spat out the tea he’d been sipping on and began choking.

Patting his friend on the back, Harin mumbled something quietly. Louder, he reiterated, “I-Inke, murder isn’t a good option.”

She didn’t quite understand that. It would give Tyen his parents’ seats on the Council, giving him more influence and ability to help Harin. The main forces behind the assassination plot would be eliminated, which would be of tremendous benefit to Harin, the target.

And while neither of the younger duo was aware, it would give Inke the perfect opportunity to gain some more Soul Shards. Inevitably, the three of them would cover up such a murder or risk being found out. Even better, nobles tended to be high level, which meant even more Soul Shards than killing someone random.

But no one else agreed with Inke, so she let the matter drop.

Tyen seemed perfectly happy to take up the matter, but Harin interrupted and steered the teenager away from the fractious topic. “Wait, Tyen, earlier, what did you mean by that they’re getting more serious?”

Face rearranging itself into a solemn visage, Tyen leaned forward, arms splayed on the table for support. “It’s not good.”

Inke yawned and rolled out of her bed.

Literally.

She hit the floor with a thump and opened her eyes to see someone standing above her. With a yelp, she attempted to scramble backward, only succeeding in bruising her back against the wooden frame of the bed.

Inke growled, rubbing at her back.

Typically, such an awakening would have been cause for worry, but Ignari hadn’t alerted her, so Inke figured it wasn’t anything dangerous.

And indeed it wasn’t.

“Heya, Inke!” Sathe said in their accented voice.

Groaning, Inke pushed her way up onto the bed in a sitting position. “Sathe,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

They grinned. “Helping ya out, of course! Guildmaster Shatter sent me on down, guess he figured I could be of aid ta ya’. ‘Sides, I heard ‘bout whatcha’ been doin’ over here, and I thought it was probably for the best, anyhow.”

She blinked. “Heard about what I’ve been doing?”

“Well, ya weren’t tryin’ ta be discreet, were ya?” With a laugh, they continued, “Threatenin’ some poor clerk, dropping money like it’s water… news spreads fast ‘round these parts! Back in tha Empire proper, everyone’s waiting on information 'bout this new dungeon like it’s hotcakes!”

Inke coughed, feeling her face burn slightly.

She was never telling anyone about her original goal of stealth.