Shameless Immortal: Emperor of Ten Thousand Beauties

The announcement caused a mild stir, mostly among older rogue cultivators and wealthy eccentric collectors, with the bids slowly climbing past three hundred stones.

Up on the private balcony, Shen Yu’s playful demeanor suddenly vanished.

The exact moment the tattered map was lifted from the jade box, a sudden, violent vibration rippled through the interior of his spatial ring.

Deep within his personal storage ring, an identical fragment of the tattered map, one he had gotten from the system store a few weeks ago, began to flutter frantically, its ancient fibers pulsing with a hidden, resonant heat that only he could feel.

His pupils narrowed to razor-thin slits as he stared intently at the stage.

For the first time all afternoon, a genuine interest flashed across his handsome face.

While the crowd only saw a useless, broken map of an unknown wilderness, the sudden resonance within his spatial ring allowed Shen Yu to perceive the truth.

That wasn’t just a random scrap of paper.

The two fragments belonged to a single, split map of the hidden layer of the Desolate Asura Realm that was scheduled to open its ancient gates in exactly three months.

For a normal cultivator, a single piece was nothing more than an incomplete riddle, entirely useless on its own.

But for Shen Yu, who already secretly possessed a separate quarter of the map, acquiring this item would bring him to a crucial half.

It was the vital link needed to chart a safe path toward the realm’s core heritages.

"Oh?" Shen Yu murmured, a smirk curling his lips beneath the shadow of his hood as his fingers tightened against the stone railing.

"To think this city could have an item actually worth my time."

Beside him, Bai Ruolan noticed his sudden shift in tension.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes blinking with a childish curiosity as she tugged at his dark green sleeve.

"Senior Brother Mo? Do you like that old map? If you want it, I can just tell the logistics elders to pull it from the auction for you!"

Shen Yu snapped out of his calculation, his playful, eccentric energy returning in a flash as he tapped her nose beneath her hood.

"No need to ruin the theater, Little Alchemist. Let the mortals play their little bidding war. I will simply outbid the last one standing."

Down in the main hall, the bidding for the tattered parchment had slowed to a steady, unenthusiastic crawl.

Unlike the practical utility of defensive talismans or the immediate value of rare steel, a broken map was a massive, unpredictable gamble that few logical path-seekers were willing to take.

"Three hundred and twenty spiritual stones!" an elderly rogue cultivator with a heavily scarred face called out from the back rows, his voice raspy and tense.

He was a veteran scout who made his living navigating the treacherous peaks of the Crimson Mountain Range, desperately gambling that this specific piece of Beast King hide might hold a faded ink mark pointing toward an uncharted, resource-rich herbal valley.

"Three hundred and fifty," countered a wealthy, portly merchant chief sitting in the lower VIP section, casually waving an embroidered silk fan.

He didn’t care about the geography or the map’s hidden secrets at all, rather, the sheer prestige of owning an antique crafted from genuine Beast King hide appealed heavily to his shallow vanity.

A Beast King was an absolute anomaly among monsters, the absolute strongest, mutated tyrant of its species.

Because of this rare mutation, a Beast King possessed a terrifyingly dense, qi-resistant hide and a lethal combat instinct that made it infinitely more dangerous to tackle than ordinary beasts of the exact same rank.

Displaying its treated skin as a mere collector’s piece was the ultimate symbol of wealth.

"Three hundred and eighty!" the scarred rogue snapped back, his jaw clenching as he squeezed his near-empty spiritual pouch.

For a rogue cultivator, every single stone was dipped in blood; this was near his absolute limit for a gamble.

The old auctioneer scanned the room, his wooden gavel raised high. "Three hundred and eighty low-grade spiritual stones going once... going twice..."

"Five hundred spiritual stones."

The smooth, leisurely voice cut through the heavy silence of the grand hall like a sudden blade.

It didn’t come from the crowded floor, but from the exclusive, warded VIP balconies overlooking the stage.

The abrupt, massive jump of over a hundred stones caused the entire audience to instantly freeze.

Hundreds of heads violently turned upward, their eyes straining to pierce the dark spiritual wards of the third-floor private booths.

Even the portly merchant stopped waving his fan, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Five hundred spiritual stones for a useless scrap of paper was an absurd, completely reckless display of wealth.

Down on the stage, the senior auctioneer’s eyes lit up with a renewed, greedy fire.

He recognized the specific frequency of the jade token used to transmit the bid, it belonged to the highest tier of the union’s private guests.

Beside Shen Yu on the private balcony, Bai Ruolan let out a small, childish gasp, her hands flying to cover her mouth beneath her deep black hood.

She looked at him, her blue eyes wide with an amused, giggling bewilderment.

"Senior Brother Mo! You jumped straight to five hundred?! You’re so mean, look at that poor old rogue scout, he looks like he’s about to cry!"

"A true player never wastes time haggling over pocket change, Little Alchemist," Shen Yu murmured back as he leaned casually against the stone railing.

He didn’t care about the extra stones, compared to the massive profit his clan would collect when all his plans came together, a few hundred stones were nothing more than dust on his boots.

The scarred old rogue cultivator down below let out a heavy, defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping completely as he dropped his gaze to the floor.

There was no competing with the absolute financial power of the hidden monsters lurking in the upper VIP lounges.

"Five hundred spiritual stones from the esteemed guest on the third floor!"

The auctioneer’s booming voice echoed throughout the packed hall, his gavel vibrating with anticipation.

"Are there any further bids? Going once... going twice..."

Crack!

"Sold! To the VIP balcony for five hundred low-grade spiritual stones!"

The disciples carefully lowered the jade box containing the tattered fragment back into the warded transport chest to deliver it to his booth.

Down on the central stage, the old auctioneer took a deep breath, his theatrical smile widening into a terrifyingly sharp expression as he cleared his throat, commanding the room’s total, undivided attention.

"And now, my patient path-seekers... the moment that brought you all stampeding through our grand gates today," the old man whispered, his voice suddenly amplified to a deafening roar by a high-grade sonic talisman.

"The Golden Cauldron Merchant Union proudly presents the dawn of a new era in Crimson Iron City!"

-x-

A/N:

Weekly PS: 25/100

Monthly GT: 33/30