Darien hit up Eliana's number first.
Lucien Dupré
Monsieur Dupré
"Hey, Eliana!"
"Darien! Finally—I couldn't reach you for two days. Said you were out of service. Where'd you vanish to?"
"Uh… I was in a pretty remote spot…" he said, a little awkwardly.
"You really got some nerve! Last time you went missing in the mountains for three days, and now you're vanishing again?"
Hearing Eliana's concern, Darien felt a little warmth in his chest.
"Not the wild mountains this time," he said. "Just working on a novel—went out with a few friends to find a quiet spot to brainstorm."
Eliana seemed to buy it… for now.
"Anyway, Monsieur Dupré's been blowing up your phone. You should call him."
"Yeah, I saw the missed calls. I'll ring him. Oh, and I'm thinking of buying a car, but the license plate stuff is a mess. Can you help? I'll pay you."
"You paying in food again? Haha, fine. Just let me know when you get the car."
Darien grimaced.
"Alright, thanks. Dinner's on me next time!"
After hanging up, he dialed Monsieur Dupré.
Beep—
"Hey, Monsieur Dupré? It's Darien."
"Oh, finally! There you are. The antiques you sold? Authenticated—over a thousand years old, maybe even from a civilization with no written records. This is huge. Honestly, I lowballed you before. Can you come by today? We need to talk."
"Sure, I'll swing by."
"Perfect. I'll be here."
---
Darien hung around the bus stop—no bus. Today was it; he was finally getting a car. He'd decide the type once he saw what Dupré offered.
At L'Atelier des Antiques, he got a warm welcome.
Besides Dupré, three appraisers were there: Vernet, Morel, and Favre.
After quick greetings, they got to it.
"Alright, kid, I'll be straight. The antiques you brought? Confirmed over a thousand years old, maybe from a civilization with no written records. Big deal for us.
We honor the contract, of course. Based on market estimates, these pieces go for $322K–$490K. Demand's high, and we need them now, so we're valuing them at the top end. You got $69,340 already, so we'll transfer another $416,000. Sound good?"
Darien blinked.
He'd thought $69K was fair.
This?
Crazy.
Eliana probably had a hand in this—but either way, he wasn't saying no.
While waiting for the transfer, Darien asked, "So… any luck figuring out the era these came from? The symbols, the writing?"
All four appraisers froze. Especially Dupré, who'd bragged he could decipher the characters with ease.
Clearly, they'd hit a wall. No references, no way to decode the copper coins' script. It wasn't pictographs—just a complex system with zero context. Even university professors brought in by L'Atelier des Antiques hadn't cracked it.
Darien caught their awkward expressions and smirked inwardly. Figures. Nothing to figure out here.
Once the transfer went through, he nodded, said his goodbyes, and left. Chatting with the older men wasn't very engaging.
Now with over $416,000 in his account, Darien thought about buying a place. But really, it wasn't practical—he didn't have a permanent spot here, and technically, he already had a castle.
$416K wouldn't get him far in New York—barely a down payment, and Darien wasn't touching a mortgage.
A car, though—that made sense.
"Sports car?" he muttered.
"…Nah. Better save."
Still, $416K in hand was hard to ignore. The most cash he'd ever held. Sure, he had gold back in Brindlemark, but as an outsider, it didn't feel real. Here, though, dollars had weight.
His mind drifted to cars—classic luxury moves: BMW, Bentley, Bugatti.
He leaned toward a Mercedes-Benz for comfort and sleek design. McLaren was another brand he'd heard a lot about.
After some consideration, he found himself on a high-end dealership row in New York—Porsche, Bentley, Mercedes, McLaren, even Rolls-Royce. Chrome logos gleamed in the morning sun.
"Good morning, sir! Welcome. How can I help you today?"
A sharply dressed salesman in a black suit approached.
"Looking to buy a car."
Darien scanned the lineup. The cars looked even better in person than in photos.
"What kind of specs or models are you thinking?" the salesman asked.
"Between $56K and $70K. Something I can drive off the lot today."
"Only that?"
"Black. That's all."
"...Alright. Sedan, SUV, or compact?"
"Doesn't matter."
"And will this be for personal use or company?"
"Personal."
"Alright, then I'd suggest the Macan or maybe the Panamera 4."
"Wait—what's that one?"
Darien pointed at a bold, high-clearance truck with an aggressive grille.
"That's the Ford F-150 Raptor. Off-road beast—3.5L twin-turbo V6, 450 hp, 510 lb-ft torque. Handles rough terrain and highways like a dream."
"How much?"
"Base is $111K. Fully loaded, about $120K."
"Available now?"
"Yep. No discount—"
"I'll take it."
"Wait, seriously?"
"Swipe my card."
The salesman froze as Darien handed over the card and signed. Thirty minutes later, the truck was ready.
"Can I drive off now?"
"Of course. Enjoy!"
As he pulled out, Darien thought, Wait… wasn't I supposed to compare a few more options? How did I just buy the first one?
---
🔍Did you know?
- The first luxury cars appeared in the late 1800s and early 1900s, serving as symbols of wealth and status—much like high-end sports cars today!
🐧