The Imperial Capital of Sol-Primus was a world encased in gold and glass. Unlike the gritty, dust-choked sectors of the fringe, the air here smelled of synthetic jasmine and old money. For the Centennial Auction, the planet's orbital ring was crowded with the yachts of sector governors, merchant kings, and the survivors of the "Old Blood" families.
Lin Feng stood before a floor-to-ceiling mirror in the guest quarters of the Mirror Sovereign. He adjusted the cuffs of his uniform—a deep charcoal fabric woven with threads of mirrored Star-Iron.
"You look like a King, Master," Lilith whispered, appearing behind him. She wore a gown of shifting violet silk that mimicked the nebula clouds, her wings tucked discreetly but her presence radiating a lethal elegance. "Or at least, a very dangerous ghost."
"I'm not here to be a King yet," Lin Feng said, his eyes reflecting the cold light of the capital. "I'm here to collect a debt."
The Entry
The Grand Auction Hall was a floating dome of crystalline diamond. As the high society of the Empire mingled, sipping wine that cost more than a colony ship, the herald announced the arrivals.
"Princess Isabella of the High Heavens! Lord Kaelen of House High-Reach!"
The crowd parted as the golden pair entered. Isabella looked radiant, though her eyes were restless. Kaelen followed, his posture stiff, his eyes darting toward the shadows as if expecting a World-Eater to burst through the floor.
Then, the doors creaked. No herald announced the next guest. The room simply went silent as a group of women in black-and-gold military uniforms marched in, their footsteps perfectly synchronized. At their center walked Lin Feng.
"Is that... the Volaris boy?" a Duchess whispered, shielding her mouth with a fan.
"He shouldn't be alive," a General muttered. "I heard he's consorting with beasts."
Lin Feng ignored them. He walked straight to the front row, taking a seat directly across from Isabella. He didn't bow. He didn't acknowledge her. He simply sat down and crossed his legs.
The First Lot
The Auctioneer, a robotic construct with a silver face, tapped his gavel. "First item of the evening: The Star-Map of the Lost Duchies, recovered from the Volaris archives."
This was a slap in the face. The Empire was selling Lin Feng's own heritage back to the highest bidder.
"10 million credits," Kaelen shouted immediately, a smug grin returning to his face. "I think I'll use it as a rug for my dog's kennel."
"50 million," Lin Feng said, his voice quiet but carrying to every corner of the room.
The crowd gasped. Kaelen's face flushed. "60 million!"
"100 million," Lin Feng countered instantly.
"150 million!" Kaelen roared, leaning forward.
Lin Feng leaned back and smiled. "Actually, I changed my mind. Keep it, Kaelen. 150 million for a map that's 200 years out of date? You've always been bad at math."
Kaelen froze. The room erupted in stifled giggles. He had just spent a fortune on a useless piece of paper.
The Trap Closes
The auction continued, with Lin Feng systematically driving up the prices for every item Kaelen and Isabella showed interest in, only to drop out at the last second. By the time the final lot was reached, the Imperial nobles were fuming, their pockets drained by their own pride.
"The final lot," the Auctioneer announced. "An artifact recovered from the Sargasso Void. A dormant Void-Core from an ancient God-Slayer mecha."
The room grew heavy. This was what the High Inquisitor wanted. The Core was encased in a containment field that vibrated with a dark, unstable energy.
"500 million credits," Isabella said, her voice trembling slightly. This was the Empire's entire liquid budget for the quarter.
"One billion," Lin Feng said.
"You don't have that kind of money!" Kaelen screamed, standing up. "Security! Arrest this fraud! He's bidding with ghost credits!"
"I don't need credits," Lin Feng said, standing up and reaching into his coat. He pulled out a small, palm-sized crystal—the compressed heart of the World-Eater he had defeated. It glowed with a terrifying, rhythmic pulse. "I'm bidding with S-Rank Bio-Matter. This single crystal can power the Capital for a century. Do you accept?"
The robotic Auctioneer's eyes whirred. "Value confirmed. Bid stands at one billion. Does the Princess counter?"
Isabella sat in stunned silence. She had nothing left to bid with.
The Inquisitor's Move
"The bid is invalid," a raspy voice echoed through the hall.
The High Inquisitor stepped from behind the curtain, his black robes trailing like smoke. He raised a hand, and the containment field around the Void-Core began to glow red. "Lin Feng, you are charged with the possession of Forbidden Bio-Technology. Under the Inquisitorial Mandate, all your assets are forfeit. Including that locket."
Suddenly, the doors of the hall slammed shut. The decorative guards dropped their banners, revealing high-frequency sonic disruptors pointed directly at Lin Feng.
"The Locket reacts to 'Star-Souls,' doesn't it?" the Inquisitor sneered. "These disruptors will shatter your mental link. You'll be just a normal, pathetic boy again."
Lin Feng looked at the disruptors, then at the Inquisitor.
"You think I came here alone?" Lin Feng asked.
"Your 'beast' fleet is docked in the outer ring," Kaelen laughed. "They can't get to you here. You're trapped!"
"I'm not trapped with you," Lin Feng whispered, touching the Mirror Locket. "You're trapped with a Refraction."
Lin Feng's body suddenly began to shimmer. He wasn't real. The 'Lin Feng' in the chair was a Data-Ghost.
High above the diamond dome, the ceiling exploded. Ten silver Ares Mecha crashed through the glass, led by Kara. But they weren't alone. In the center of the hole, a massive, obsidian hand gripped the edge of the dome.
"Scan complete," the real Lin Feng's voice boomed from the overhead speakers. "Thank you for bringing the Void-Core out into the open, Inquisitor. It's a perfect template."
The NIHIL Mecha—the God-Slayer—tore the roof off the building.
"Kara," Lin Feng's voice commanded. "Take the Core. Leave the nobles. I want them to live long enough to watch me rebuild the galaxy in their image."
As the obsidian giant reached down to pluck the artifact from the stage, the elite of the Empire finally realized their mistake. They hadn't invited a Viscount to an auction. They had invited a predator to a buffet.