[Tonight, the annual auction gala at Harlan Auction House will be held as scheduled! Here, you'll find rare treasures gathered from all corners of the world—be it semi-divine artifacts or all sorts of potent potions, everything imaginable will be up for bidding. We eagerly await your participation!]
[—As per tradition, one-tenth of the proceeds from this auction will be donated to the warriors on the front lines battling against the Demons. May the gods bless us all.]
Standing before the public notice board in the plaza, Orsaga, who had been in a sour mood and was planning to blow off some steam by dragging a couple of random people into sparring, suddenly found his interest piqued.
His eyes lit up, and after a moment's thought, he muttered to himself, "An auction! According to international clichés, whenever the protagonist attends one of these, there's bound to be something good. I've gotta check it out…"
And just like that, his evening plans were settled.
As for the rest of the day, he decided to spend some time exploring and gathering information.
Things like the lifestyles of various races passing through the city, the general movement of the population in and out of Misturk City, and the state of basic healthcare and sanitation in the surrounding countries.
As a veteran in biochemical warfare, while he had no plans to cause a full-scale incident deep in enemy territory, that didn't mean he was going to just sit on his hands. Professional ethics and racial tradition still had to be upheld!
There was no way he was going to come out empty-handed—he had to at least earn enough to get by.
And to discreetly make use of his particular skill set, some on-site reconnaissance was absolutely necessary.
Due to his appearance, Orsaga, even while keeping a low profile, still stood out like a spotlight in the crowd. As he strolled down the street, heads turned in his direction, completely undermining any effort to go unnoticed behind enemy lines.
But perhaps it was his air of calm composure, the ease with which he walked through the city like it was his own backyard.
Despite passing several city guard patrols, not a single one stopped to question him—even though everything about him screamed "mysterious stranger."
—That arrogant swagger.
—That eye-catching, completely unhidden appearance.
—Those extravagant clothes no ordinary citizen could ever afford.
—That dismissive, indifferent gaze he cast on everyone around him.
Put all these traits together, and while it didn't exactly scream "enemy infiltrator," it certainly didn't blend in either.
Let's be honest—no halfway sane undercover agent would ever show up looking like this.
'There's no way a spy or a brainwashed cultist would act this arrogant. This guy's probably just a powerful freak we don't want to mess with.'
With that logic in mind, and wanting to avoid unnecessary trouble, the guards all silently decided to pretend they hadn't seen Orsaga and walked right past him without so much as a glance.
"…?"
'The hell? Why? Was my disguise really that effective?'
Orsaga clenched his fist in mild irritation, inwardly grumbling, 'I thought that even after professional concealment, a suave and exceptional demon like myself would still shine like the morning star in the dark sky—undeniably brilliant, impossible to ignore!
And yet these people are just walking past me like I'm nothing?!
Am I… not handsome enough?'
At that thought, his expression grew somewhat conflicted as he deliberately dispersed a portion of his internal energy.
Originally, he had planned that if anyone dared to approach and interrogate him, he would simply skip the auction and send them to meet their makers on the spot.
Maybe even loop back afterward to incinerate that annoying little brat and the busybody who tried to interfere.
As for his original infiltration plan? Minor issue.
As long as all witnesses were wiped out, he could just go somewhere else—wouldn't make much difference.
In this world, the only real external threat capable of endangering him was the physical descent of a true god.
Other than that, those so-called Demi-Gods could at best seal him away or force him to retreat.
Due to the fundamental difference in lifeform and power level, those people didn't pose any real danger to him.
In fact, he was just looking for an excuse to flip the table.
Unfortunately, the guards' utter lack of interest denied Orsaga his chance to blow up.
After some thought, and with a hint of reluctance, he decided that as a mature demon, he ought to show some restraint—so he would let it go this time.
Still, a small trace of malice quietly seeped out.
And just as Orsaga abandoned the idea of a massacre, countless people in the city—including the young brat and other nearby pedestrians—suddenly felt a chill run down their spines, their sixth sense screaming danger.
To ordinary people, this sensation meant little.
But for those of higher level or with sharper instincts, it was all too clear.
In a tavern nearby, a bald, muscular man suddenly set down his teacup, rubbing the goosebumps on his arm as he muttered to his companion, "What the hell? Why do I feel like I just narrowly avoided getting caught in something deadly?"
That wave of sinister intent that had just passed by… it sent shivers down his spine.
It was as if a starving dragon had locked eyes with him—utterly terrifying.
In that moment of intense dread, he'd almost used his teleportation item—without even knowing who or what was causing it.
His companion, after scanning the surroundings and finding no signs of further disturbance, sighed and replied, "Not sure. But whatever it was, it seems to have passed."
Out in the wild, that kind of danger was common.
But inside the city? It was extremely rare.
He couldn't believe he'd just felt a wave of killing intent that indiscriminately blanketed the entire area.
'Was someone really about to go on a killing spree… inside the city?'
He thought it over and quickly dismissed the idea—there just weren't that many lunatics like that left in this era. He didn't believe his luck was that bad.
Besides, if it had been a maniac, it wouldn't have ended so quietly. There'd be bodies everywhere by now.
'More likely some powerhouse got pissed off and accidentally let their killing intent slip…'
That was the conclusion he finally arrived at.
Meanwhile, the city guard, having noticed the disturbance, began to coordinate with the aerial barrier surveillance system to investigate any possible violent incidents—ready to go collect corpses if needed.
Because judging by that murderous aura alone, it wouldn't have been surprising if dozens of people had already died.
Little did they know… that was just a flicker of leaked bloodlust.
Had luck not been on their side today, Orsaga would already be in the middle of a citywide massacre.
After all, once he decided to act, the only acceptable outcome was total annihilation and zero witnesses.
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