Ghost Billionaire Chapter 31: The Moment He Had Been Waiting For

"So? How is it? Is your stomach better?" Argent asked when Matthew ca back to his seat.

"Better," he answered.

"So? What do you think? Are you buying that cart?" Argent asked.

This Ghost was clearly a new mber, clueless and unconnected. Newcors were always easier to scam. They hadn’t found their footing yet, didn’t know anyone, and no one knew them. Argent had confird it earlier while walking around. Not a single mber had greeted Ghost.

Matthew glanced at Argent, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. "Let’s buy that cart. But we’ll make it interesting. How about we bet on which one of us gets the better gem?"

Argent perked up imdiately. "You serious?"

"Sure. But not now," Matthew said. "I want to grab a few things from the auction first. I especially ca here for this segnt."

As if on cue, the host of the auction tapped the mic. "Ladies and gentlen, we are now beginning the final segnt. Up first, a specialty set of poison tablets—tested on both animals and humans. Effects include localized skin rot, nerve agitation, and prolonged psychological distress."

A few attendees murmured. One attendant brought out a glass tray containing five small vials with numbered tags.

"Bidding starts at fifty thousand credits," the host said.

Matthew raised his hand. "Seventy."

Soone in the far right raised it to eighty. Another bidder pushed to ninety.

Argent leaned closer. "You sure you want that? These things are sold outside. Nothing rare about them. Even street dealers have sothing similar. The only reason these are here is because the pills ca from that pharmacist, what’s his na again?"

"Levi Roan," said soone from behind them. "Alchemist from the Western Regions."

"Alchemist?" Argent snorted. "What the hell is that, even?"

However, Matthew didn’t answer him. Instead, Matthew raised his hand again. "One-twenty."

Since no one else responded, the hamr fell.

"Sold," the host said. "Lot 87, to the bidder in black."

Argent tilted his head. "You really bought that crap?"

"I am new here, and I wanted to try out so of the products. This is going to be my first auction, and I’ve been interested in dicine since I was younger," Matthew replied. "Besides, you never know when you’ll need sothing that rots skin." Besides, his goal tonight was to attract soone’s attention and that soone is only interested in prescriptions and poisons.

Argent whistled. "That’s ssed up."

A mont later, the lights dimd again. The next item was revealed under a do-shaped case.

"This," the host said. "Is one of the rarities tonight. An ancient poison prescription. Allegedly derived from a lost Tibetan redy, preserved from a tomb dating back over five centuries. Unstable. Unverified. But said to counter nearly all known poisons."

A buzz stirred in the room.

"This recipe has been sought by several major pharma firms, all of whom failed to replicate it. Starting bid: five hundred thousand."

Matthew didn’t hesitate. "Six."

A few others jumped in—six-fifty, seven, seven-fifty.

Argent turned to him. "Are you insane? Everyone knows these tomb formulas never work. They’re outdated. The herbs don’t even exist anymore. Plus, bacteria and pathogens have evolved. Whatever that paper says probably can’t heal modern poison." Why was this bloke spending all that money that was supposed to go to the carts!?

"Still," Matthew said, raising his hand again. "Nine hundred."

"Going once—"

"Sold."

Argent stared at him. "You actually bought it."

Matthew turned his head. "I have plans."

Argent snorted and crossed his arms. "You really love wasting money, don’t you?"

Matthew snorted at that. Wasting money? He didn’t co here to waste money but to acquire the things that would help him in the future.

"Depends on who’s watching," Matthew said as an attendant handed him a token that he needed to use to claim those items after the auction.

The host didn’t waste ti. As soon as the last item was cleared from the stage, he gestured for the next one to be brought out.

"Our next lot is sothing recovered just last winter from the ruined monasteries buried beneath the Guanzhen Mountains in northern China," the host announced. "An ancient bundle of scrolls, so say handwritten in a forgotten dialect. For decades, they were believed to be lost after a private collector’s vault was looted. It’s said these contain dicinal knowledge, spiritual theory, and even weapon crafting principles."

A set of sealed glass tubes was brought out. Inside each was a tightly rolled scroll, dark and worn with age. The tubes were suspended inside a padded black case, clearly insulated against environntal damage.

"Bidding starts at one hundred thousand."

Matthew lifted his hand without hesitation. "Two hundred."

Argent turned toward him. "What now?"

"Two-fifty," another bidder called.

"Three," Matthew said again.

"Hey, Ghost..." Argent squinted at the scrolls on the stage. "Are you serious? You’re bidding on those?"

Matthew nodded once.

"What are you, a lunatic? You can’t even read them. Nobody can. They’re in so mountain monk gibberish that hasn’t been spoken in centuries."

Matthew leaned back slightly. "I wasn’t feeling great earlier, so I didn’t get to bid properly. I want to make up for that now."

Argent shook his head. "You call that making up for it? You’re dumping credits into dust and parchnt. Those things are fragile. One wrong move and the paper’ll crumble. You can’t store them in normal conditions either. You need sealed cases, humidity control, preservation compounds—"

"I like collecting them," Matthew said.

Argent stared at him. "Collecting? You?" Argent frowned. Has he misjudged this bloke earlier?

However, Matthew calmly nodded. "Yeah. These things are history. Even if I don’t open them now, soone else might find a way to translate them later. Maybe there’s sothing worth keeping."

Argent muttered sothing under his breath, then looked back at the scrolls. "Old folks are the only ones into this kind of stuff."

Matthew said nothing. His bid of three hundred had gone unchallenged. A few murmurs followed, but no one raised the stakes.

The host tapped the gavel. "Sold. Lot 87 to the man in black."

Matthew gave a short nod as an attendant handed another token over to his booth.

Argent let out a low sigh. "You’re on a roll tonight."

Matthew smiled. "Maybe."

"Next ti, try collecting sothing that doesn’t co with mold," Argent muttered.

Matthew didn’t argue. The very reason why he wanted to join this organization was that he wanted connections, and he could only do that if he spent his money on auctions like this.

"Really crazy..." Argent mumbled. Why was this man spending money on paper? Argent really couldn’t understand it.

Matthew ignored him. His attention was already shifting to what was coming next. If this was the final segnt, then the auction might be holding back one last surprise, and if so, he wasn’t planning to miss it.

The host cleared his throat, signaling the final item of the night.

"Ladies and gentlen, our last lot is a unique artifact recently recovered from a decommissioned research facility in Northern Norway. Known as the Enclave Codex, this manuscript is believed to have originated from a clandestine group of scientists and engineers during the early stages of the Second World War. The codex is bound in an unidentified synthetic material, and its pages are a hybrid of rice paper and polyr, rendering them nearly translucent and waterproof. The text within is invisible under normal light, only becoming visible under specific electromagnetic conditions."

A hush fell over the room as the artifact was unveiled. The codex was encased in a sealed, climate-controlled glass container, its dark cover absorbing the ambient light.

"Bidding starts at one hundred thousand credits."

Matthew raised his hand imdiately. "Two hundred."

The host acknowledged the bid. "Two hundred thousand. Do I hear two-fifty?"

A man seated across the room, dressed in a black suit with a matching bowtie, raised his hand. "One million."

A collective gasp echoed through the hall. All eyes turned to the bidder, whose expression remained impassive.

Argent leaned toward Matthew. "Are you going to let that slide?"

Matthew’s gaze remained fixed on the codex. "Two million."

The man in black adjusted his cufflinks before responding. "Three million."

Matthew didn’t hesitate. "Four."

The room buzzed with whispers. Argent shook his head. "You’re serious about this?"

Matthew nodded. "Yes."

The man in black considered for a mont before raising his hand. "Five million."

Matthew responded. "Six."

The host looked between the two bidders, clearly surprised by the rapid escalation. "Six million. Any further bids?"

The man in black leaned back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Seven million."

Matthew raised his hand once more. "Ten million," he said.

Almost imdiately, a thick silence lingered in the room as everyone turned to the man in black, waiting to see if he would raise the bid.

"Hey... isn’t this just a piece of untranslated item?" Argent said. "How could you spend ten million on sothing like that?"

However, Matthew didn’t respond. He watched as the man in black turned his head slightly, locking eyes with him, steady, unreadable. Then, the man seated beside him, dressed head to toe in a crisp white suit that sharply contrasted with the others’ attire, leaned forward and finally spoke. "Young man... would you consider letting that piece go?"

Matthew didn’t respond when he heard the familiar voice.

The man then added, "In return, the House of Tian will owe you a favor."

The mont the na left his lips, a subtle shift moved through the room. The weight behind it wasn’t lost on anyone, least of all Matthew.

After all, this was the mont he had been waiting for.