Velvet, glass, and money-thick air.
Elara blinked up into a chandelier's kaleidoscopic glow. A numbered bidding paddle was a sudden, heavy weight in her hand; a guest badge pinned cool against her collarbone. Somewhere nearby, a gavel kissed its block—soft, practice taps, not yet judgment. The memories flooded in, sharp and unwelcome: Elara Vance, once more, but this time a socialite teetering on the edge of high-society exile, her reputation scarred by whispers of "arranged" consignments. And tonight, she was standing feet away from the catalyst of her new world's ruin.
[Ding!]
Event: World Transfer Complete — Auction
Status:
- Survival Probability: 68% → 45% (world baseline)
- Attention: 18/100 (Anchor persists)
- Auction Timer: 00:45:00
Sub-Objectives:
A) Secure micro-evidence photo (+4%)
B) Force on-record catalog correction (+5%)
C) Identify the shill bidder or comped plant (+3%)
Her eyes snapped to the central display. Lot 7: Suihua Blood Jade Bangle. The catalog prose was lush, claiming an imperial provenance and a color like "ripe pomegranate." Under the focused gallery lighting, her trained eye—a remnant of a life she hadn't lived—saw something else: an unnatural, aniline blush. She leaned in, the polite distance of a curious bidder, and glimpsed the drill hole for the silk cord. There, pooling in the microscopic crevice, was a tell-tale concentration of dye, a flaw modern forgers often missed. The striations from the drilling tool, visible with a keen eye, were too uniform, too machine-made for the alleged Qing dynasty origin.
"Finding the preview… compelling?"
The man's voice was winter-calm, cutting through the murmur of the crowd. She turned. Adrian Vale. Acting CEO of Valerian House. Chief Appraiser. He was the room's gravity well, contained within a flawlessly tailored charcoal suit. His eyes, the color of glacial ice, held no warmth, only a surgical assessment.
"If you are here to cause a scene based on past… inclinations," he said, his voice low enough for only her to hear, "I suggest you reconsider. Valerian House does not bend to rumors or theatrics. We require proof."
[Ding!]
Event: Male Lead Interaction (On Site)
Status:
- Attention: 18/100 → 21/100 (Δ +3)
- Survival Probability: 45% → 44% (Δ −1%)
Note: Prolonged scrutiny increases risk.
"Then give me ten minutes with the piece under a professional loupe and a junior registrar on the record," Elara countered, her voice equally soft but firm. She met his gaze without flinching. "Invoke the catalog errata protocol. If I'm wrong, you can have me removed, and you'll never see me again. But if I'm right, you save this house from a multi-million dollar scandal and a permanent stain on its integrity."
A flicker of something—not interest, but calculation—passed behind his eyes. He gave a curt nod to a young woman hovering nearby. "Ms. Vance has a query regarding Lot 7. Assist her with a re-examination in the verification room. Log everything."
[Ding!]
Event: Pre-Sale Review Authorized
Status:
- Survival Probability: 44% → 47% (Δ +3%)
As she followed the registrar, Elara's eyes scanned the room. A man in a too-perfect tuxedo near the front row seemed overly focused on his program, not the art. His bidding paddle was too new. A plant? A shill?
[Thrum…]
Side Flag: Trace the Shill Bidder
Timer: 02:00:00
Penalty on Failure: Survival −6%
In the stark, bright light of the verification room, the junior registrar donned white gloves and placed the bangle under a high-powered loupe. Elara guided her. "The drill hole. Look at the pigment concentration. Now, compare the tool marks to the reference images for verified period pieces in the database."
The registrar's eyes widened slightly. "It's… inconsistent," she whispered, tapping notes into a tablet. "The dye pooling is a known indicator of modern enhancement. And the striations… they don't match."
Elara quickly used her phone to capture a photo through the loupe's lens—the damning, ruby-rich bleed in the drill hole.
[Ding!]
Event: Micro-Evidence Captured
Status:
- Survival Probability: 47% → 51% (Δ +4%)
Note: Sub-Objective A achieved.
But as the registrar looked up to speak, her gaze shifted past Elara to the doorway. A man in a staff blazer was subtly rearranging items on a tray holding Lot 7's display stand. His movements were furtive, and for a split second, his hand hovered near a small, velvet-lined box that hadn't been there before.
[Thrum…]
Warning: Lot 7 — Tray Swap Risk
Timer: 00:10:00
Penalty on Failure: Survival −8%
They weren't just selling a forgery. They were preparing to switch it, perhaps to discredit her evidence after the fact. The real bangle was about to vanish, and the fake, now exposed, would be left in its place, making her look like a fool or a saboteur. Adrian Vale stood silhouetted in the main hallway, watching it all, his expression an unreadable mask. The clock was ticking down to a different kind of disaster.