Grand Return System

Chapter 420: The Price of Pride

The Price of Pride

After a few seconds of silence, the lights in the private room lit up.

A soft chime echoed through the auction hall.

For a brief moment, nobody moved.

Then the number displayed above the highest private room became clear.

"100 million!"

The words were simple.

The effect they caused was anything but.

The enormous auction hall seemed to freeze before erupting all at once.

"F*ck..."

"One hundred million coins?"

The crowd was in an uproar.

Voices crashed over one another from every direction. Some people stood halfway out of their seats, staring toward the highest private room as though they had just witnessed something completely unreasonable.

One hundred million coins.

That was no longer an ordinary bid.

For most people present, even possessing a fraction of that amount would have been enough to establish themselves comfortably for years. Yet someone had casually thrown out one hundred million coins for the very first supreme treasure of the auction.

And judging from the calmness of the private room, it did not seem like that person had even broken a sweat.

In the Earth-class private room, Lord James, who had been preparing to raise his own bidding token, suddenly stopped.

His fingers tightened around the token.

The confidence that had been visible on his face only moments earlier disappeared completely.

His expression slowly turned ashen.

One million coins.

That was the amount prepared on the token in his hand.

Compared with the terrifying figure hanging above him, it suddenly looked almost laughable.

His lips twitched.

For the first time since entering the Whitelist Restaurant, Lord James felt something far more unpleasant than anger.

He felt humiliated.

"Damn it, is this kid trying to argue with me?" Lord James looked up at the topmost private room and said with a livid expression.

His voice was low, but every word carried the weight of his resentment.

Through the gap between the curtains, he could faintly see Leon sitting inside.

The young man had not even bothered to stand.

He simply sat there with one hand resting casually against the armrest, his long shoulder-length black hair falling naturally around his shoulders. His purple eyes carried a quiet amusement, and beneath the warm glow of the private room, the thin amethyst embroidery on his midnight robes seemed to shimmer faintly.

Then Leon looked down.

Their eyes met.

Lord James’s heart tightened.

There was no rage in Leon’s expression.

No hostility.

No urgency.

That was what made it worse.

Leon was looking at him as though he were watching a clown perform on a stage.

Lord James’s jaw clenched.

"Your Highness, you can’t..."

The servant beside him hurriedly stepped forward.

His face had already gone pale.

He knew exactly what was happening.

His master had lost his temper.

And once Lord James became angry, reason often became the first thing thrown out the window.

The servant wanted to stop him, but he hesitated.

The consequences of offending Lord James were frightening.

The consequences of interrupting him at this moment might be even worse.

Lord James stared at the number above the highest private room.

One hundred million.

The figure burned into his eyes.

The more he thought about it, the more unbearable the humiliation became.

He had already been forced to leave the Heaven-class private room earlier.

He had endured Cavir Walton’s cold rejection.

And now, in front of the entire auction hall, this mysterious young man had casually crushed his first bid without even giving him the chance to speak.

Was this deliberate?

Was Leon deliberately provoking him?

The thought was enough to make the veins on Lord James’s forehead stand out.

His hand moved.

He abruptly raised the bidding sign.

The servants beside him were dumbfounded.

"Your Highness—!"

They reached toward him, but it was already too late.

Lord James’s eyes were burning.

"One billion!"

The words thundered across the auction hall.

The Earth-class private room suddenly illuminated.

A gigantic number appeared above it.

1,000,000,000.

One billion coins.

For an instant, the entire venue fell completely silent.

Even the people who had been whispering stopped.

The atmosphere changed.

What had started as an auction had suddenly become a confrontation.

The treasure on the stage was almost forgotten.

Everyone’s attention turned toward the two private rooms high above the hall.

"F*ck, who is this? They’re fighting right from the start, so full of gunpowder."

Someone finally muttered the words everyone else was thinking.

A few people exchanged nervous glances.

This was no longer normal bidding.

Usually, when a supreme treasure appeared, wealthy cultivators would slowly test the waters. One person would offer a price, another would raise it slightly, and the bidding would gradually climb.

But these two had completely abandoned that rhythm.

One hundred million.

Then one billion.

The difference was absurd.

Everyone present immediately understood something.

There were only two possibilities for this kind of bidding.

These two people either had a grudge or simply disliked each other.

Otherwise, no sane person would bid like this.

Who would throw a billion coins onto the table right from the beginning?

The auction hall gradually filled with excited whispers.

Some people were nervous.

Others were delighted.

After all, regardless of who won, they were witnessing something extraordinary.

The host standing on the stage remained frozen for several breaths.

Even he had not expected the first treasure to escalate this quickly.

The supreme-grade treasure had only just appeared.

Yet the price had already reached a level that would make countless powerful households bleed.

Above the crowd, another private room remained quiet.

It was the Black-class private room.

A woman dressed in red sat behind a delicate veil.

Only part of her face could be seen through the narrow opening of her mask.

Her long hair spilled over her shoulders like a river of crimson silk, while a few loose strands rested against the edge of her mask. Her visible eyes were calm and sharp, carrying none of the excitement displayed by the crowd below.

The mask concealed most of her face.

Perhaps that was intentional.