The Extra's Rise
Chapter 655 - 655: Masquerade Auction (2)

The Blackwood Manor stood like a gothic monument against the darkening sky, its towers and spires reaching toward the stars with an almost predatory hunger. What had once been the ancestral home of a minor noble family had been transformed into something far more sinister—a temple to wealth, power, and the kind of moral flexibility that came with both.

Arthur adjusted his ornate golden mask as their carriage pulled up to the circular drive, noting the impressive array of vehicles already present. Sleek magical conveyances worth more than most people's homes sat alongside traditional horse-drawn carriages that spoke of old money and older secrets. The attendees were clearly the Empire's elite, though Arthur suspected few of them fully understood what they were truly participating in tonight.

"Quite the gathering," Reika murmured beside him, her own mask—a delicate silver creation adorned with crimson roses—concealing her features perfectly. She'd adapted to her role as Lady Ashworth with remarkable ease, her posture radiating the kind of casual arrogance that came with inherited wealth.

"Indeed," Arthur replied, offering her his arm as they disembarked. "The kind of people who collect rare things tend to be... interesting individuals."

Two impeccably dressed doormen flanked the mansion's entrance, their eyes sharp despite their servile bows. Arthur noted the way they scanned each guest, the subtle magical detection wards woven into their clothing, the careful attention to detail that spoke of serious security concerns. These weren't ordinary servants—they were professionals, likely former military or intelligence operatives.

The foyer beyond was a masterpiece of ostentatious wealth. Crystal chandeliers cast dancing shadows across marble floors inlaid with precious metals, while oil paintings of questionable artistic merit but obvious expense lined the walls. The air was thick with the scent of rare incense and expensive perfumes, mingling with undertones of something darker that Arthur couldn't quite identify.

"Lord and Lady Ashworth," a smooth voice called from across the room. A tall man in an elaborate black and silver mask approached, his movements fluid and predatory. "Welcome to our little gathering. I am Magistrate Corwin, your host for this evening's festivities."

Arthur inclined his head respectfully while mentally cataloging everything about the man. Mid-forties, well-built beneath his expensive evening wear, hands that showed calluses despite his obvious wealth—a fighter masquerading as a gentleman.

'A priest,' Luna commented in his head, confirming his suspicion.

"Magistrate," Arthur replied in the affected accent he'd perfected for Lord Ashworth. "Lady Ashworth and I have heard whispers about your collection. We're quite eager to see what treasures you might have available tonight."

Corwin's smile was all teeth. "Oh, I believe you'll find our offerings most... stimulating. We cater to discerning clientele with sophisticated tastes." His gaze lingered on Reika for a moment longer than strictly proper. "Your lovely wife has exquisite taste in jewelry, I see. That necklace is quite remarkable."

Reika's hand moved unconsciously to the sapphire pendant at her throat—a piece Arthur had chosen specifically because its magical properties would help maintain her disguise while appearing to be nothing more than expensive ornamentation.

"A family heirloom," she replied smoothly, her voice carrying just the right note of prideful possessiveness. "My dear husband spoils me terribly."

"As any sensible man would," Corwin said with another predatory smile. "But please, don't let me monopolize your time. There are refreshments in the east salon, and I believe you'll find the other guests quite fascinating. The auction itself will begin in approximately thirty minutes."

They moved deeper into the mansion, passing through elegantly appointed rooms where small clusters of masked figures engaged in hushed conversations. Arthur's enhanced hearing caught fragments of discussions about shipping routes, political maneuvering, and business ventures that skirted the edges of legality. These people were the Empire's shadow elite—those who preferred to conduct their affairs away from public scrutiny.

In the east salon, they encountered their first clear indication that this was no ordinary social gathering. The refreshment table was laden with delicacies from across the known world, but it was the servers that caught Arthur's attention. Young men and women of exceptional beauty moved among the guests with practiced grace, their eyes holding the glassy emptiness of those under magical compulsion.

"Darling," Reika murmured, her voice carefully neutral, "the service staff seems remarkably... dedicated."

"Indeed," Arthur replied, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. "The very picture of professional discretion."

He made note of the subtle magical emanations coming from the servers, the way they moved in precise patterns that suggested careful programming rather than natural behavior. The Red Chalice's taste for human experimentation clearly extended beyond their laboratories.

"Lord Ashworth!" A new voice boomed across the salon. A portly man in an elaborate peacock mask approached, his movements slightly unsteady from whatever expensive liquor he'd been sampling. "Baronet Hemsley, at your service. I heard through certain channels that you might be interested in acquiring some... unique specimens for your collection."

Arthur forced his expression into one of polite interest while internally recoiling at the man's obvious meaning. "My wife and I do appreciate items with interesting histories," he said carefully.

"Oh, history indeed!" Hemsley laughed, the sound carrying an unpleasant edge. "Though I prefer my acquisitions to have futures as well, if you take my meaning. There's something to be said for investments that continue to... appreciate over time."

Before Arthur could respond to this barely veiled reference to slave trading, a soft chime echoed through the mansion. Conversations gradually died as guests began moving toward what Arthur assumed was the main auction hall.

The auction room itself was a study in sophisticated decadence. Rows of plush chairs faced a raised platform where a single spotlight waited to illuminate whatever horrors would be displayed for sale. Heavy curtains blocked the windows, and Arthur noted the discrete magical wards built into the walls—designed to prevent both eavesdropping and easy escape.

He and Reika claimed seats near the back, close enough to observe everything while maintaining easy access to the exits. Around them, the Empire's most morally flexible citizens settled in with the eager anticipation of children awaiting a particularly entertaining puppet show.

Magistrate Corwin took the stage with practiced showmanship, his mask catching the spotlight as he raised his arms for attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice carrying easily through the room despite the lack of obvious amplification magic, "welcome to tonight's exhibition. As always, all items come with guarantees of authenticity and... discretion. Payment is expected immediately upon successful bidding via secure cryptocurrency transfer, and all sales are final."

He gestured toward the side of the stage, where a curtained alcove concealed the evening's merchandise.

"Our first item," Corwin announced as the curtains parted, "is a vial of Compound V-7, extracted from test subjects during the Meridian Institute's classified enhancement program."

A collective intake of breath went up from the audience as a temperature-controlled case containing twelve vials of luminescent blue liquid was wheeled onto the stage. The substance seemed to pulse with its own energy, and Arthur could sense the dangerous potential contained within.

"The bidding will start at 500,000 crypto," Corwin declared.

Hands shot up around the room as the elite began their competition for items that had been obtained through methods that would horrify any decent person. Arthur watched carefully, noting which individuals bid most aggressively, cataloging faces and mannerisms for future reference.

The enhancement serum eventually sold for nearly 2 million crypto to a woman in an elaborate butterfly mask who accepted her purchase with the casual indifference of someone accustomed to trafficking in atrocity.

"Item two," Corwin continued as the vials were wheeled away, "is considerably more... technological. A prototype neural interface developed by Blackwater Corp before their unfortunate shutdown."

This time, a sleek device no larger than a smartphone was brought forward, its surface covered in microscopic ports and pulsing with soft blue light. Arthur recognized the technology—neural control implants that could override a person's free will entirely.

The bidding was fierce, ultimately reaching 3 million crypto before being claimed by Baronet Hemsley, who looked positively gleeful at his acquisition.

"Now then," Corwin said, his voice taking on a note of particular satisfaction, "we come to something truly special. Item three is guaranteed to be the highlight of many collections—a complete sample of the Prometheus Virus, believed to have been destroyed during the Geneva Incident."

The gasp that went up from the audience was audible. The Prometheus Virus was beyond classified—it was legendary among those who dealt in biological weapons. The medical and military applications alone would make the owner one of the most dangerous individuals on the continent.

As the sealed bio-containment unit was brought forward, glowing with warning lights that cast ominous shadows across the auction room, Arthur felt Reika tense beside him. He glanced at her and saw that her knuckles were white where she gripped her fan.

The bidding started at 5 million crypto and quickly escalated. Arthur watched the proceedings with growing interest, not in the virus itself but in the reactions of the other bidders. Several individuals were bidding with a desperation that suggested this wasn't mere collecting—they needed that sample for something specific.

When the price reached 20 million crypto, only three bidders remained active. Arthur recognized two of them from intelligence reports—known associates of various criminal organizations with interests in forbidden biological research.

The third bidder, however, was someone he hadn't expected to see.

Duke Ravencrest, one of the Empire's most respected nobles and a supposed pillar of moral rectitude, was bidding with an intensity that spoke of genuine need rather than casual acquisition.

The final bid came from Ravencrest at 25 million crypto, and Arthur filed that information away for future use. The Duke's presence here was interesting enough, but his willingness to spend such an enormous sum suggested the Red Chalice's influence reached even further into the Empire's power structure than he'd suspected.

"Excellent!" Corwin declared as the Prometheus Virus sample was carefully secured in its bio-containment unit for its new owner. "Now, before we proceed to our final items of the evening, I believe a brief intermission would be appropriate. Please, feel free to refresh yourselves while we prepare the crown jewels of tonight's collection."

As the guests began to move about, stretching and seeking refreshments, Arthur caught Reika's eye and nodded toward one of the side passages. They needed to use this break to gather more intelligence about the mansion's layout and security arrangements.

"Shall we explore a bit, my dear?" he asked loud enough for nearby guests to hear. "I'm quite curious about our host's other collections."

"Of course, darling," Reika replied, taking his arm. "Though I do hope the remaining items live up to the evening's impressive start."

As they moved through the mansion's corridors, Arthur's mind was already working on the next phase of his plan. The auction was providing exactly the intelligence he needed, but more importantly, it was revealing the true scope of the Red Chalice's operations within the Empire.