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Chapter 99 - CHAPTER 98: AUCTION

Julian stared at the gun in his hand, unsure if he could sneak it in. Security at the auction would be tight.

"I won't need it tonight."

He pulled out the magazine, slid the gun under the pillow, and tucked the magazine under the bed. His eyes scanned the room as a knock echoed from the door.

He turned and headed out.

A car braked to a stop. Julian stepped out and shut the door.

Ahead loomed the old school building, its dark shape cutting into the night. Only the gym windows glowed, like a lantern in the dark campus.

A few men stood near the entrance, talking in low voices, giving Julian no more than a glance.

"Right on time." Julian turned. Rex leaned against a black pickup, arms crossed, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Thanks to your guy. He wouldn't stop banging on my door."

Rex gave a slight nod. "You actually look like a businessman in that getup."

Julian looked down at his outfit, a white shirt under a black blazer, paired with a black tie, pants, and shoes.

"More like I'm heading to a school dance."

Rex chuckled as he pushed himself off the truck. As they walked, Julian noticed the noise growing louder. By the gym, two large trucks were backed into the loading docks, men moving in and out, carrying crates.

Julian slowed, observing the scene.

None of the crates had tags, no company names, just wood and steel corners.

"Quite the place," Julian muttered.

"Easier to manage."

Rex didn't have to specify. From the outside, it looked abandoned, but things ran like clockwork.

Julian glanced at the other side of the yard, the swings hanging still in the darkness. Kids would be here during the day, laughing and playing. Now, the same grounds were filled with trucks and crates moving in the dark.

"Let's head in." Rex nodded toward the gym entrance.

Julian felt the change immediately. The inside noise was lower, conversations hushed. Rows of lights hung from the ceiling, flooding the gym with bright, white-yellow light.

People stood on the floor above, men in suits and women in coats too fancy for the weather.

Julian followed Rex to the metal stairs.

A man with a tray stepped forward and said, "Enjoy the night."

He handed out wooden paddles with numbers on them. Rex ignored the man, but Julian took a paddle.

"Enjoy the night."

Rex glanced back. "You gonna buy something?"

"Nah," Julian said. "Just never been to an auction before."

Rex shrugged and went up the stairs.

From above, Julian had a clear view.

The platform in the center was set up like a stage. Crates were stacked on the sides. Several men checked paperwork. Everything was running smoothly, but no sign of Sara or Simon.

Julian breathed out.

They're here, somewhere in this building. I just have to wait... for the right moment.

"Get out of the way!" Julian turned toward the voice. A man stumbled up the stairs, clearly drunk. Behind him was George.

Rex leaned on the railing, tilting his head at the man. "That's Aldo. Heard George and him have been together for years."

"Doesn't look like they get along."

"They cover each other's asses pretty well."

Julian glanced at Aldo.

"How many times have I told you not to drink before going out?" George grabbed Aldo's shoulders.

"This is the first time you've said that…" Aldo replied lazily, "…and I'm fine."

"Yeah, you're a mess." George guided him to Rex and Julian, pulled up a chair, and sat him down. "Just don't do anything stupid, got it?"

"Yeah! I got it. Just get me a drink."

"Watch him, alright? Got stuff to do." George said to Rex, glanced at Julian, nodded, and left.

Aldo's head hung low for a moment, then he looked up. "Rex! My boy. How's it going?"

"Good, good," Rex replied faintly.

Aldo slowly rose from his seat. Rex tried to push him back down, but he wouldn't listen.

"Just wanna see you up close." He stumbled into Rex, who caught him. "I'm good over here. You just need to chill the hell out."

"I'm cool, Rex."

Rex gently pushed him back. "The auction's about to start. If you don't shut up, they'll drag you out."

"I'm shut up." Aldo covered his mouth, stood still for a moment, then looked past Rex.

"Who's this?" He stared at Julian.

"Julian."

"I don't know fucking Julian. Who's Julian?"

Rex glanced at Julian, then back at Aldo. "Just nobody. Don't worry about him."

"Nobody!" Aldo stumbled backward. "I hate nobodies. I don't like nobodies."

"Ignore him." Rex muttered to Julian.

Julian nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on Aldo. The guy just kept staring at the people walking by, muttering complete gibberish.

Julian looked over at George. He was already deep in conversation, working on another deal. Then a man caught Julian's eye.

Wearing the same black and white getup as him, but no tie. His hair was pulled back like a snake's tail. His eyes looked like—

Julian looked away. Down below, the preparations seemed complete.

"Tyler!" Aldo called out to a man walking over. "Haven't seen you in ages."

Tyler ignored him.

Aldo grinned and grabbed his arm. "Still holding a grudge? Thought we were past that."

Tyler turned to look at him. Aldo quickly released his hand and stumbled back.

"Alright. Alright. Catch you later." He plopped down.

The lights began to dim, leaving only the center stage brightly lit.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice boomed through the speakers. A thin man had taken to the stage, adjusting the microphone as he looked up toward the people on the upper floor.

"Welcome back," he continued. "We've got a packed night ahead of us, so let's get started without any further delay."

Two assistants wheeled out a tall wooden frame covered in a dark cloth.

The man on stage gestured toward it.

"Our first piece for the evening."

He whisked away the cloth.

A large painting was revealed beneath the bright lights.

A man nailed to the cross, head bowed, the sky behind him painted in deep, violent reds. People kneeling before him.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you who this is." The announcer looked up. The people above were already chattering.

"This painting captures the scene closest to what happened centuries ago. The moment the whole world changed."

Julian was intrigued. He'd heard bits and pieces of the story. This painting was probably priceless, even more valuable than the Mona Lisa.

"Starting bid is—"

"Five hundred thousand."

"You heard it, folks." The announcer glanced at the bidder. "Five hundred thousand sets the bar."

"Eight hundred thousand!"

"One million!"

"Twenty million!"

Everyone turned to look at the bidder: a woman in black outfit.

"Looks like we've got our first buyer of the night. Sold to number 23!"

"Twenty million for a copy," Julian muttered.

"Sometimes a copy is all people can get."

"Yeah, but..." Julian trailed off.

Tyler stepped forward. "But what?"

"A copy is a copy. Spending that much is a waste."

"Maybe." Tyler's gaze remained fixed on the painting. "But the value isn't determined by the original."

"Then what is it?"

"Her."

Julian followed his gaze.

Number 23.

The woman who bought the painting.

"Time for the next treasure."

A small glass case was placed on the table.

Inside sat a worn, leather-bound book.

"Only seven copies exist," the announcer explained. "A lost historical account from 2065 BC. Considered cursed knowledge by the Asfar religion."

Julian wasn't paying attention. His mind was occupied with the man standing next to him.

Why do I feel like I've seen him before? Tyler, right?

"Sold to 31!"

Julian shifted his gaze back to the third item.

A wooden case opened, revealing a sword.

"Said to have belonged to Roshgar, a renowned assassin from 400 BC. His last mission was to kill the prince of Yonwak, Iftar Maghrib. But it became Roshgar's final mission. He was killed by his own sword."

"Ten thousand!"

"Fifty!"

"One hundred thousand!"

Julian glanced at Tyler. His paddle was raised.

"Two hundred thousand." Someone on the left called out.

"Five hundred." Tyler didn't hesitate.

"Oh ho," Aldo leaned forward, "you like that one?"

Tyler didn't answer.

"Looks like we've got a new assassin. Sold to—"

"Five hundred fifty thousand!" Aldo called out, grinning at Tyler.

"No, not just yet, folks."

"Six hundred thousand!"

"Six hundred fifty thousand!"

The price climbed.

Again.

Again.

Each time, Tyler responded without expression.

Aldo laughed louder with every increase.

Several people started staring their way.

"One million." Tyler raised his paddle again, glaring at Aldo.

"Back off," he said in a low voice.

"Are you serious?" Aldo's grin widened. He shot his hand up and shouted, "One million one hundred!"

Tyler closed his eyes for a moment and called out, "Two million."

"Five million."

"And sold to number Ten!" The announcer called out quickly.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Aldo leaned back in his seat, chuckling.

"See? That's what you get."

Julian glanced at Tyler, who remained calm, eyes fixed on the sword being carried away.

He's definitely pissed.

"That was just a taste," Rex commented beside him.

"Yeah."

"But there's more to come." Rex lifted his hands from the railing. "Our turn's coming up. I'll go get them."

Julian nodded, then asked, hesitant, "Can I tag along? My stomach's been off since all this."

"Sure."

Julian glanced at the stage, then turned to leave, his eyes meeting Tyler's. He held the gaze for a second, then followed Rex.

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