Chapter 357: We Simply Couldn’t Turn Down That Kind Of Offer
The man looked from the necklace to Lancet, recovering his bluster. "If there is a problem with your purchase, speak directly to collection services."
"There is." Lancet tapped the thick glass. "It’s fake."
The bidding master’s expression barely moved. He maintained this perfect poker face that showed that he was very used to confrontations like this.
Spectra took a step forward. "Speak!"
The man’s hand immediately moved toward a red button beside his desk. "Guards—"
A thick, black tendril of Gloom snapped violently around his mouth before he could finish the word. His eyes widened in absolute terror.
Another strand wrapped brutally around his wrist and tore his hand away from the alarm crystal, pinning it to the desk. A third tendril hardened instantly into a narrow, wickedly sharp blade directly beneath his throat.
Spectra leaned dangerously close to him. "Raise your voice again." The dark blade pressed just lightly enough into his skin to draw a bead of blood. "I would genuinely enjoy seeing what happens."
The terrified bidding master made a muffled, desperate sound through the gag.
Lancet looked toward Spectra, remaining calm. "Maybe let him speak."
She kept the lethal blade firmly in place but grudgingly loosened the tendril around his mouth. The man sucked in a ragged, panicked breath. "What the hell are you doing? Do you have any idea where you are?"
Spectra’s crimson eyes narrowed into glowing slits. "The False Auction? Since everything you sell here is a farce."
"You don’t know what you’re talking about!"
Lancet pulled the fake necklace from its velvet case and held it up to the light. "This is not the Sacramenta."
The bidding master looked at it, sweat beading on his forehead. "Yes, it is."
Spectra’s expression darkened instantly. Lancet immediately knew that was the wrong answer. The Gloom blade pushed noticeably closer against the man’s throat, forcing his chin up.
He swallowed carefully, wincing. "I personally authenticated that relic myself."
"You lying piece of garbage," she hissed.
"I’m not lying! I swear! It came with extensive historical records—"
"I wore Sacramenta for years."
The man stopped mid-sentence.
Spectra stepped even closer, her presence suffocating. "I know what’s inside of it. I can feel it throbbing in my spirit when it is near." Her voice dropped to a terrifying whisper. "This counterfeit you sold us... for it, I feel nothing but rage."
The bidding master stared at her, trembling. Lancet watched the horrifying recognition begin to dawn in his eyes.
The man’s face slowly lost all its color. "No. It can’t be. It can’t be..."
Spectra smiled, revealing teeth. Several crimson shapes formed behind her. Demons. Small ones, but remarkably ugly enough to accomplish exactly what Spectra wanted.
One crawled aggressively over the edge of the mahogany desk, flashing far too many teeth. Another unfolded itself directly behind the bidding master’s leather chair and opened a maw much wider than its own misshapen head.
The man jerked backward, terrified, but the sharp blade stayed firmly against his throat. Spectra leaned over the desk. "Tell me where Sacramenta is."
"I don’t know what you’re talking about!"
One of the Demons snapped its jagged jaws mere inches from his cheek. The man shouted in fear and tried frantically to pull away. Spectra caught his expensive collar with one hand and dragged him roughly forward again. "Lie to me again, and I will slowly peel the skin from your fingers first." His eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Then your hands."
Lancet remained near the desk, watching the brutal interrogation unfold.
Spectra continued with chilling calmness. "Then I will open your stomach without killing you and let my hungry children decide which parts smell best." The Demon beside him snapped its jaws again, drooling Gloom onto his suit. The bidding master started shaking uncontrollably.
Lancet wondered if he should intervene. The poor man was actually pleading with him with his eyes.
But Lancet understood Spectra’s perspective and he wanted to be fully by her side in this situation.
Spectra had spent centuries painfully separated from the powerful catalyst that carried the Demons she had considered her actual children, including Baphomet himself.
These greedy people had apparently taken the real thing, sold it or kept it for themselves, then callously produced a cheap replica and auctioned it off as a historical treasure.
Lancet got why she was so incredibly angry. He just deeply hoped she remembered they were still standing inside one of the most heavily guarded auction houses in all of Rosenblum.
The bidding master looked desperately toward Lancet for salvation. "Stop her!"
Lancet tilted his head coldly. "I can’t. But if you want to live it’s better you answer her questions."
The man stared at him in disbelief, then looked back at Spectra. Her terrifying smile widened, and the starving Demons moved noticeably closer.
"Alright! I’ll tell you!"
Lancet leaned forward slightly, all business.
The bidding master breathed hard and fast through his nose, panicked. "The real Sacramenta was sold."
Spectra’s expression went completely blank. "Sold where?"
"The black market."
The blade pressed harder into his throat. "To whom?"
"I don’t know!" The Demon beside his face opened its massive mouth again, a low growl rumbling in its chest. "I swear!" The man squeezed his eyes tightly shut in terror. "We were approached entirely privately. Someone offered millions of Notes for the original before it ever reached public auction. Millions. We simply couldn’t turn down that kind of offer."
Lancet’s brows drew together in thought. "Millions?"
"Yes."
That simple number changed absolutely everything. It wasn’t likely anymore that someone had bought the Sacramenta simply because it belonged to a famous historical figure; nobody paid millions for historical novelty alone.
Whoever purchased it must know exactly what was inside. Baphomet. The bound Demons. The true, terrifying value of Spectra’s catalyst.
Lancet stepped closer to the desk. "Who arranged the purchase?"
"I don’t know the buyer."
"You expect us to believe that?"
"It was completely underground!" The man swallowed hard as the blade shifted dangerously with his throat. "Black market transactions don’t work like normal sales! Brokers only speak through brokers. Payments move invisibly through multiple untraceable accounts. Names are deliberately hidden. Routes change constantly. By the time we delivered it, we had absolutely no idea where it was actually going."
Lancet’s expression hardened. "Where is it now?"
"I told you, I don’t know!" The bidding master looked frantically between them. "Once something disappears into the underground market, it can go literally anywhere. The network stretches across every kingdom.
"Buyers trade rapidly between major cities without ever meeting each other. Something sold in Rosenblum today could easily be in Antarticon tomorrow and Asiris by the end of the week."
Spectra’s hand tightened brutally around his collar. "You sold my children."
The man’s eyes widened in sheer panic. "I didn’t know—"
"You sold them!!"
Thick, suffocating Gloom spread rapidly across the desk, freezing the air. The bidding master started pleading immediately. "I didn’t know what was inside it! We were only told it had minor demonic properties, that was all! I swear on my life!"
Spectra’s face twisted in pure rage. "I should open your throat right now and feed your blood to them." The Demon beside him hissed eagerly in anticipation. The man whimpered pitifully.
"Spectra," Lancet said calmly.
She ignored him entirely. "I should let them drink until you are completely empty."
"Spectra."
Her glowing eyes snapped furiously toward him. Lancet held her murderous gaze without flinching. "That’s enough."
The bidding master immediately nodded frantically. "Yes. Yes, please, listen to him."
Spectra turned her fierce gaze back toward him, and the dark blade sharpened threateningly. He instantly stopped talking.
Lancet stepped closer and placed one firm, reassuring hand on Spectra’s tense arm. "He told us what we needed to know."
"He sold my catalyst."
"I know."
She looked back at the terrified bidding master with pure loathing. "So why can I not simply kill him?"
Lancet exhaled slowly, projecting calm. "Because we’ll have to answer to government agencies and we do not have the time for that. I don’t want anything to distract us from finding your catalyst and giving you your power back."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Not even revenge."
Spectra’s jaw tightened stubbornly. She knew Lancet was right but she was horribly torn between vengeance and logic.
Lancet rubbed her arm in a comforting manner. "Come on."
Spectra took one slow, trembling breath. The lethal Gloom blade dissolved into mist. The restraining tendrils withdrew instantly, and her summoned Demons faded back into red smoke one after another until the pristine office felt almost normal again.
The bidding master collapsed heavily back into his leather chair, gasping for air.
Spectra leaned down over the desk one last time before leaving. "If I discover you lied to me about anything, I will return." The man nodded rapidly, terrified. Spectra’s glared at him. "You will sincerely wish you had died today."
Lancet told the master that he expects a refund or they’ll be back. Then he quickly took Spectra’s arm before she could add anything else and guided her firmly toward the door.
They stepped back out into the collection corridor as if absolutely nothing untoward had happened. Spectra smoothly put her dark sunglasses back on, and Lancet casually adjusted his jacket.
The man who had asked them not to go in stared at them then he cancelled the call he was about to make and hurried in to check on the bidding master.
Once they reached the bustling public hall, Spectra’s arm was locked with his again as she leaned against him like the perfect girlfriend she had pretended to be at the entrance.
Lancet carried the fake Sacramenta case under one arm while they confidently walked past dozens of attendants and security officers.
They stopped by a corner of the premises to catch a breath of air.
"So," Spectra broke the silence, "what now? The underground market stretches across the entire world as that fool said. That means it could be in any kingdom by now."
Lancet narrowed his eyes. He had fully expected the Grand Auction to be the easiest answer, but apparently, it was not. Still, he had not come all the way to Rosenblum with only one plan in mind. "Don’t worry."
Spectra looked at him, skeptical.
"I prepared for something exactly like this." Lancet started walking confidently down the avenue. "Let’s go meet Opaline."
Spectra watched him saunter casually away, then narrowed her eyes in profound confusion. "Who in the name of Hell is Opaline?"