"I'm Stonehaven. I'm here to take possession."
Marcus quickly showed her the deed Captain Drake had given him. The system certainly didn't cut corners; the maid was breathtakingly beautiful.
"Understood, sir. Here are the keys to the property. It is now officially yours."
The maid confirmed the deed and handed him a heavy, ornate key.
"My primary task is complete," she said. "Would you be interested in hiring a member of the household staff?"
"Staff? What for?"
"Servants can maintain the estate, clean, tend the gardens, and see to other minor tasks."
"How does it work?" Might be worth a try. If they're all as easy on the eyes as this one, it wouldn't be a bad perk.
"We offer both male and female attendants. Which would you prefer?"
"Female." 'What kind of question is that?'
"Our female staff are categorized as: Delicate, Cute, Gentle, Dignified, Playful, and Mature. The hiring fee is 100 gold coins per servant, per day. Which style interests you? Please be advised that the system will levy severe penalties for any inappropriate player behavior."
"A hundred gold a day? Yeah, never mind. I'll pass."
That was absurdly expensive. He couldn't justify blowing that much gold on something so frivolous, especially when the fine print basically said "look, don't touch." He figured only players with more money than sense, or some very specific kinks, would get a thrill from it.
"Very well, Stonehaven. My task here is complete. I will take my leave." The beautiful maid turned and walked away without a second glance.
'Well, damn. So the pretty maid wasn't part of the deal after all. What a letdown.'
Marcus sighed, and thereafter toured the mansion. It was every bit as luxurious as it promised, a world away from the cramped, generic rooms of a standard-issue hotel.
He sank into a bamboo chaise lounge in the living room and fired off a few texts to his sister, Amber, and Lily. They were still grinding away in the Newbie Village, and he couldn't for the life of him understand why. The real game was out here. What was so fascinating about killing level-one boars and collecting ten wolf pelts?
After a few minutes, the sheer, silent scale of the place started to feel oppressive. It was just him in all that space.
'Screw this,' he thought, 'I'm not going to sit around. It would be plenty lively soon enough, once Lily and Amber finally made it to Dragon's Peak Citadel.' He'd give them a proper welcome then, and show them just how far he'd already climbed.
"Old Vine Auction House."
The place was opened by a player called Old Vine. Its location was prime real estate, and while the shop itself wasn't huge, the interior had a sharp, professional look; all dark wood and clean lines. It was already drawing a decent crowd.
Right now, Dominion had only three player-run auction houses: the Merchant Alliance, the Gold Coin Exchange, and Old Vine's.
To force players to engage with each other, the system-run auction house had shut down the moment these private ventures opened. The system still skimmed a two percent commission off the top of every sale, effectively handing these three a collective monopoly on the entire in-game economy.
In Dominion, any player could rent a five-square-meter stall in the Citadel's Trade Center for a hundred gold. That bought you five hours to hawk your wares.
The other option was to go big: buy a permanent storefront with gold and set up a proper shop, just like in the real world.
The problem was the price tag. A basic storefront cost a cool five million gold, with the price skyrocketing based on location and size, plus a nasty monthly maintenance fee. Since Dominion was still new and you couldn't yet buy gold with real money, that kind of cash was a fantasy for pretty much everyone.
This left everyone crammed into the flea-market chaos of the player stalls. It was a nightmare for anyone trying to move high-end gear. Sellers couldn't find serious buyers, and buyers couldn't find what they needed. The forums exploded with rage.
Bowing to the pressure, the developers at Dragonfly Corp finally caved and introduced a loan system. Using your real-world ID for verification, you could take out a loan for five million gold. The catch? It could only be used to buy a storefront. The second catch? Once the real-money exchange opened, you had ten days to pay back ten million gold; double the loan.
The announcement triggered another wave of fury. Players accused Dragonfly Corp of being greedy bloodsuckers. But before the outrage could gain any real traction, the Merchant Alliance and the Gold Coin Exchange were suddenly open for business. The message was clear: the rich and connected always find a way.
For anyone with ambition and a tolerance for risk, it was a golden opportunity. The system promised broadcast advertising for the top three shops, and everyone knew that early reputation was everything. Plus, with so few able to stomach that loan, the first shops to open would have the market all to themselves until the money faucets turned on.
No risk, no reward.
The sharks had smelled the blood in the water. Considering Dominion's player base was in the millions, the potential was insane. And for some people, a million bucks was pocket change (the exchange rate was set at 10 gold to 1 dollar). The gamble was a no-brainer.
The Old Vine Auction House was the third to enter the scene. Rumor was, Old Vine was just a regular player who got ridiculously lucky, stumbling onto a Hidden Quest that rewarded him with a storefront outright.
The fact that an average joe could have his life changed by a single lucky drop only fed the playerbase's obsession with hunting for those elusive Hidden Quests.
The other two auction houses were backed by major powers. Word was the Merchant Alliance was bankrolled by "CryptoWarlord," who was sitting pretty at the top of the wealth leaderboard. The Gold Coin Exchange was owned by "GoldDiggerIRL," another heavyweight. They were building empires, and forming official guilds was their obvious next move.
Marcus wanted no part of that guild politics nonsense. If he walked into the Merchant Alliance or the Gold Coin Exchange and slapped a high-level item on the counter, his anonymity would be toast. He'd be swarmed with recruitment offers and lose the freedom he was enjoying.
Old Vine's operation, however, was different. It was founded by a lone player, with no major syndicate behind it. That was exactly what Marcus was counting on. He could auction his high-level gear here, make a quiet fortune, and keep playing his own game, hassle-free.
"Hello there. Looking for anything in particular?"
The owner, Old Vine himself, greeted Marcus the moment he stepped inside.
Marcus was taken aback. Old Vine was a man in his seventies. He had a kind, grandfatherly face, but there was a sharp, authoritative glint in his eyes that commanded respect. His first impression was solid; the guy seemed trustworthy.
"Actually, is there somewhere we can talk in private? I have some items I'd like to put up for auction."
The main hall of the auction house was busy with players browsing, so Marcus kept his voice low.
"Of course. Right this way."
Once they were settled in a quiet back room, Old Vine looked at him expectantly. "So, what have you got for me, son?"
"I'd like to know your terms first," Marcus said. "Before we discuss the item."
"Standard procedure," Old Vine nodded. "We agree on a reserve price with you, and we run the auction. For a successful sale, our house takes a ten percent cut. That includes the two percent the system automatically claims. If your item is Golden-tier or higher, we'll throw in two free promotional broadcasts on the system channel. Any additional advertising beyond that would be on your dime."
Old Vine studied the player in the strange rabbit mask. The kid carried himself with a quiet confidence that piqued his curiosity. This wasn't someone just selling a spare sword.
"And the seller's identity? Can it be kept completely confidential?"
The commission was about what he'd expected; all three houses were similar. The other two were in a brutal price war, offering all sorts of freebies to establish dominance, which meant business was slower for a smaller operation like Old Vine's. That suited Marcus just fine.
"Absolutely. Client confidentiality is our foundation. If you wish to remain anonymous, not a soul will learn your name from me."
"Good. You can call me Stonehaven," Marcus said, leaning forward. "And I want to auction this."