The Soul Market was not a place of gold or paper money. Here, the only currency was [Soul-Embers]—fragments of pure emotion and life force. To buy his mother's soul back at the Grand Auction, Omar needed millions, and he had exactly zero.
"Master, we are being watched," Kaelen whispered, his hand on the hilt of his void-blade.
Around the Sovereign Emporium, dozens of "Soul-Snatchers"—low-level scavengers of the 7th Dimension—were circling like vultures. They saw a new shop, a new merchant, and "fresh" human souls.
Omar stepped out of the shop, but he wasn't wearing his suit anymore. He was draped in a cloak of shimmering black mana. He didn't look like a victim; he looked like a predator.
"You want my soul?" Omar shouted to the dark nebula. "Come and take it! But in my shop, every 'transaction' has a tax!"
A group of Snatchers, looking like distorted shadows with glowing red eyes, lunged at him. Omar didn't move. He simply activated the shop's new 7th-Dimensional protocol.
[Sovereign Domain: Automated Liquidation!]
[Condition: Any hostile entity within 10 meters is converted into raw materials.]
The Snatchers didn't even scream. As soon as they touched the aura of the Emporium, they were shredded into glowing purple sparks.
[Gained: 500 Soul-Embers.]
[Gained: 10x Shadow Essence.]
"Too slow," Omar muttered. "At this rate, the auction will be over before I can even bid."
"Then you need a high-stakes trade, Merchant," a new voice boomed.
A giant island, shaped like a golden scale, floated toward the Emporium. On it stood a creature known as The Collector of Sins. He was a mountain of flesh covered in mouths, each mouth whispering a different secret.
"I have heard of your shop," The Collector said. "You have items from the 'Physical Realm' that are rare here. Give me something that can make a God feel pain, and I will give you ten thousand Soul-Embers."
Omar's mind raced. What does a God fear? Not death, but Obscurity.
Omar went into the back of his shop and grabbed a simple, old wooden box. Inside was the [Mirror of Mortal Reflection]—an item he had kept from his very first days in the Casablanca slums.
"This mirror," Omar told the Collector, "doesn't show your power. It shows you what you would be if you were mortal. It shows you your 'End'."
The Collector looked into the mirror. For the first time in ten thousand years, the monster felt a shiver of true, cold fear. He saw his own death.
"Magnificent..." the Collector gasped. "The taste of mortality... it's delicious."
[Trade Successful!]
[Gained: 50,000 Soul-Embers.]
[Reputation: 'The Mortal Merchant' (Tier 1).]
"It's a start," Omar said, looking at the glowing balance in his vision. "But I need more. Kaelen, Laila, prepare the 'Black Market' items. We're going to run a scam on the Gods themselves."
Suddenly, the sky of the 7th Dimension turned blood-red. A tolling bell rang out, shaking the floating islands.
[THE AUCTION OF THE FROZEN SOUL BEGINS IN 10 MINUTES.]
Omar looked at the Grand Spire in the distance. He didn't have enough money yet. He had to make a choice: gamble everything he had on a single trade, or find a way to rob the Auction House itself.
"Laila," Omar said, his eyes turning a sharp, lethal gold. "How good are you at stealing from a God?"
Laila smirked, sharpening her daggers. "I thought you'd never ask."