The security monitor split into quadrants—warehouse, corridor, wings, rostrum. Each frame was a moving part in a clockwork of deception, all of them ticking down.
[Ding!]
Event: Shill Pattern Correlated (Prelim)
Status:
- Survival Probability: 50% → 52% (Δ +2%)
Sub-Objectives:
- Phone bank callback delay matched
- Duplicate agent cross-seat signal
Elara's eyes darted across the screens. The man in the overly perfect tuxedo in Row A never looked at the art; his focus was locked on the auctioneer's lips, anticipating cues. Across the aisle, a woman in a severe black dress took two rapid phone calls, her responses a pattern Elara recognized from corporate takeovers: a slight nod, a pause for instruction, a confirming glance. They weren't independent bidders. They were buoys, set to artificially inflate the price.
She turned back to Anya, tapping the tablet screen displaying the condition report. "Initiate an immediate stock check protocol for Lot L7. Cite the indemnity clause against misdescription liability. We need to seal the current tray and its contents until the discrepancy is resolved."
From the doorway, Adrian Vale's voice cut through the tension, cool and precise. "Correlation is not causation, Ms. Vance. Show me a reproducible break in the chain of custody. Otherwise, this begins to look like targeted disruption."
[Ding!]
Event: Male Lead Interaction (On Site)
Status:
- Attention: 21/100 → 24/100 (Δ +3)
- Survival Probability: 52% → 51% (Δ −1%)
Note: Prolonged scrutiny increases risk.
"Reproducible?" Elara didn't look away from the monitor. She isolated the timestamps. "Warehouse digital sign-out log for L7 is timestamped 19:12. But the corridor camera feed shows a tray with the L7 tag being wheeled out at 19:08. That's a four-minute gap where the official record says the item was still in the vault." She then zoomed in on a high-resolution still of the tray itself. "And look here." With a gloved fingertip, she pointed to the edge of the large, printed label. "A corner is peeling up. There's a second label underneath. Someone tried to overwrite the chain."
[Thrum…]
Side Flag: Prevent Tray Swap
Timer: 00:10:00
Penalty on Failure: Survival −6%
[Ding!]
Event: Chain-of-Custody Discrepancy Found
Status:
- Survival Probability: 51% → 54% (Δ +3%)
Note: Projected Survival Gain +3% if admitted on stage.
Anya gasped softly. The evidence was no longer just about dye; it was about a deliberate, physical conspiracy.
"Anya, sign the stock-check authorization. Now," Elara urged. "Then, you go to the head registrar and demand the tray be sealed. I'll monitor the runner's path." She then turned to a different terminal and quickly entered her credentials. "And I'm pre-registering a Q&A query for the rostrum regarding Lot 7's provenance documentation. A public question they'll have to answer."
The division of labor was clear. But as Anya finally, resolutely, applied her digital signature to the authorization form, a calm female voice echoed through the prep area from the main hall speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we now approach the highlight of the evening. Lot Seven will be moving to the rostrum shortly."
[Thrum…]
Warning: Lot 7 At the Door
Timer: 00:03:00
Penalty on Failure: Survival −5%
Through the monitor, Elara saw the tray being wheeled by a different attendant—not the one she'd seen earlier—to the edge of the stage. The head registrar was there, but he was in a heated, low-voiced discussion with the consignor's lawyer. Anya was hurrying toward them, tablet in hand, but she was still meters away.
On another screen, the original, furtive attendant she'd spotted was now in a dimly lit wing, head bent over his phone, texting rapidly.
Elara's finger hovered over the 'CONFIRM' button on the Q&A registration screen. The query was loaded: "Please confirm for the record the reconciliation of the 19:08 corridor sighting of Lot 7 with the 19:12 warehouse sign-out log."
The auctioneer stepped up to the podium. The spotlight shifted. The tray was poised at the edge of the light, a silent promise of beauty and fraud. The gavel was in the auctioneer's hand. Elara pressed the button.
The query was live. The clock hit zero. The auctioneer opened his mouth to speak.