For two days, the world outside his new house ceased to exist. Lin Ke's life contracted to a simple, brutal rhythm: monitor his partner's recovery, analyze the Weeping Woods data until his eyes burned, and sleep the heavy, dreamless sleep of the utterly spent. He moved between the quiet warmth of the training yard and the cool, humming sanctuary of the lab, a ghost in his own home.
The Titan Vole's healing was a slow, stubborn process. Each day, Lin Ke would spend hours with it, gently applying nutrient salves and using the pure, steady energy of an Earthheart Crystal to painstakingly cleanse the last, lingering traces of corruption from its wounds. The cracked rune on its back was the most troubling, a deep scar on its very source code. It was a constant, throbbing reminder of the price of his ambition, a debt he felt in his own bones.
Down in the lab, the Corrupted Heart pulsed in its containment unit, a silent, purple taunt. The victory felt a million miles away, eclipsed by the terrifying reality of the next step. The Editor's warning about a 'catastrophic energy release' echoed in his mind, a clinical term for what he was fairly certain meant being vaporized in a flash of incomprehensible energy.
"Arrogance," he muttered to the empty lab, the word tasting like ash. "You got lucky. Don't confuse a lucky dice roll with a repeatable experiment."
He had the raw material for a god, but his laboratory was a child's chemistry set. The path forward was clear, and it was paved with credits. He needed to upgrade everything: a Class-4 biohazard containment field, a quantum-level energy synthesizer to ensure a stable reaction, and at least three layers of redundant failsafe systems. He needed a lab that could survive a small sun trying to tear its way into reality.
That new, daunting shopping list brought him back to the message from the grizzled merchant. The Starfall Auction. The 'Fragment of a Fallen Star'. His most promising lead for the mythical egg's second component. The auction wasn't just an opportunity anymore; it was a necessity. It was where the tools and the treasures were sold.
But a place like that wasn't the Mission Hall. You couldn't just walk in with a chip on your shoulder and a powerful pet. The predators in that jungle wore tailored suits and their weapons were influence and old money. He, the "Sweeper," the blunt instrument of the C-Rank boards, would stick out like a bloody thumb.
"If you're going to hunt in a new environment," he whispered, pulling up a fresh research query on his terminal, "you study the apex predators first."
He didn't search for mission data. He dove into the Guild's financial archives, the society pages, the public records of Mo City's elite. He cross-referenced the names of the auction's known organizers with the Guild's list of patrons. He built a new kind of map, not of terrain, but of power.
His research inevitably led him back to one man: Executive Director Thorne. The man who had handed him the perfect contract. The man who was now his silent, unseen partner. Understanding Thorne, he realized, was just as critical as understanding the Grove-Heart had been. The file on Thorne was predictably sparse, a curated monument to a private life. But the Editor, cross-referencing years of financial reports and resource allocation records from the Archive, painted a different picture. It revealed a man who operated with the cold, brutal efficiency of a market crash, a man whose every move was a calculated investment.
And I, Lin Ke realized with a jolt of cold clarity, am his newest, most volatile stock.
He had to leverage that. He couldn't go to the auction as a mere C-Rank tamer. He had to go as Thorne's asset.
After a deep, centering breath, he bypassed the public channels and sent a secure, encrypted message directly to Silas, the Director's aide. The message was simple, professional, and carefully worded.
To the Office of Executive Director Thorne,
Per our contract, I am submitting preliminary findings from the Weeping Woods. Alpha-level threat neutralized. Initial analysis suggests a higher-than-expected level of strategic intelligence and environmental synergy. Full report and samples pending further analysis.
Additionally, I request any available intelligence on the upcoming Starfall Auction. Attendance is required to procure materials essential for increasing my operational efficiency in future purification assignments.
Lin Ke,Purification Specialist
He hit send, his heart hammering. It was a bold move, a calculated test. He wasn't asking for a favor. He was framing his attendance as a necessary component for fulfilling his contract. He was speaking Thorne's language: the language of assets and efficiency.
The rest of the day was a tense, waiting silence. As the warm Jamaican twilight began to paint the sky, a soft chime from his terminal cut through the quiet of the lab. A reply.
It wasn't a long message. It was a single, sleek, black digital card. An official invitation to the Starfall Auction. Pinned to it was a short, unsigned addendum, its tone as cold and sharp as Thorne himself.
Procure what you need. A full budget report will be expected. Do not disappoint.
Lin Ke stared at the invitation, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face. He had his ticket. He was in the game. But the leash had just been tightened. Every credit he spent, every move he made at that auction would be scrutinized. His quiet hunt for his pet's future had just been given a line-item budget and a performance review. The gilded wilderness awaited.