Dragon Raja 2; Chapter 81: Dragons’ Feast (9)

Dragon Raja 2

“Ten million, once, for Number 88,” the auctioneer’s voice echoed across the room.

Yet there was still a hint of unwillingness in him. That old guy, the principal, seemed to genuinely care for him, saying such melancholic words, promising to create learning opportunities for him. But come on, didn’t he know that, just like circus gorillas could do simple math but would never learn calculus, Lu Mingfei would never become Chu Zihang? A myriad of conflicting emotions swirled inside him.

“Ten million, twice, ladies and gentlemen, seize this final opportunity.”

Why couldn’t he just try one more time? The principal had guaranteed that he’d have his back. But somehow, the weight of all that money crushed him, those huge numbers pressing down until he couldn’t breathe, hands and feet freezing. It really wasn’t going to work… He had already held on as long as he could… Maybe it was better to just let go, even if it left a sour taste.

“Mingfei, I believe in you. You should believe in yourself. You are the one I chose, and wherever you go, you will shine brightly,” Anjou’s voice seemed close and distant at the same time. “Are you really giving up? Won’t that leave you with regrets?”

Lu Mingfei’s whole body shook, as if an electric current had passed through him.

Yeah, he didn’t want to give up. As much as he wanted to let go, there was still that bit of unwillingness deep in his heart, that tiny spark that couldn’t be extinguished by the heaviest of downpours.

It turned out that he still had that in him…

“Twenty million!” Paddle Number 17 was raised.

Lu Mingfei’s voice echoed through the hall, the room turning silent. Could it get any crazier than this? The young man, looking every bit the nouveau riche, was trembling as he raised his paddle, but he had actually doubled the bid!

The auctioneer hesitated—this was the second time today that he doubted his own ears. His assistant quickly stepped onto the stage and whispered something to him. The auctioneer nodded slightly, his expression serious. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for your interest in this item. However, the intensity of the bidding far exceeds our expectations. We must prevent any fake bids that could lead to successful auctions without payment. Therefore, we kindly ask Number 17, Mr. Lu, to join us in the finance room. We will pause the auction during this time.”

Lu Mingfei’s face turned pale.

In the finance room, the auctioneer’s assistant and the finance manager surrounded Lu Mingfei, polite but to Lu Mingfei’s eyes, filled with hidden malice.

“We apologize, but your bidding style is far too exaggerated. For the safety of the auction, we must ask you to come here,” the finance manager said, patting a black briefcase. “You provided us with only a Swiss bank account containing two million dollars as a deposit. Normally, such a deposit would be quite convincing, but you just bid twenty million—ten times your deposit. It’s your first time here, and your credibility is lacking. If you cannot prove you have the ability to pay, we will have to cancel your bidding rights.”

“What? That little amount?” Lu Mingfei was breaking into a cold sweat, but he tried to stay confident. “Two million is just the money I have set aside to buy a new Bugatti!”

The finance manager seemed to see through the boy’s bravado, smiling discreetly. “Please assist us by removing your earpiece and microphone temporarily. This is for your financial safety as well as ours—our conversation must remain confidential.”

Lu Mingfei had no choice but to remove his earpiece and microphone. He was alone now, with no backup.

“There have been cases where malicious clients arranged for new bidders to drive up prices. They had no ability to pay, yet affected the fairness of the auction,” the finance manager explained. “You just need to prove your financial capacity by providing us with your other accounts.”

“Two million is just the balance in my account,” Lu Mingfei said, avoiding eye contact.

The finance manager smiled and opened the briefcase, revealing an electronic device with a red LCD screen and a black keypad—it looked like an oversized calculator.

“Please enter your Swiss bank account password,” the finance manager pushed the briefcase towards Lu Mingfei.

Lu Mingfei had no choice but to extend his trembling hand to type the password, which Anjou had provided him. A few seconds later, “$2,000,000.00” appeared on the screen. Lu Mingfei stared blankly at the number, which had once seemed like a fortune to him, but now he heard quiet, mocking laughter. In this dragon’s feast, that number was insignificant.

“We have high-level access at the Swiss bank, and we can verify your balance. It really is just two million dollars,” the finance manager said, smiling.

Smiling, always smiling—they had been laughing at him since he got out of the car, leaving him unsure of what to do with his hands and feet. Lu Mingfei hung his head, looking like a suspect being questioned.

In the theater hall, the guests whispered among themselves, voices rising and falling.

A throat-clearing sound came from the right-side box—even clearing her throat was alluring. Everyone instinctively looked up.

“When the auction resumes, my next bid will be fifty million,” Number 88 announced, her words as weighty as gold bricks.

The auctioneer was stunned. Was this a declaration of war? The Islamic girl’s determination meant she couldn’t even wait until the auction resumed to bid. She was no longer a queen—she was an army besieging a city!

“Eighty-eight announced her intention to raise to fifty million!” Another auction assistant entered the finance room briskly, whispering to the finance manager.

“Are you sure? Fifty million?” The finance manager was stunned, whispering back, “There’s no one else competing with her!”

“Who says there isn’t?” Lu Mingfei slowly raised his head.

The finance manager frowned. “Sir, unless you can provide another account with sufficient funds to prove yourself…”

Lu Mingfei looked at the bald man. Even hybrids went bald? He just looked like a middle-aged loser. Those who admit defeat… they end up like this pathetic middle-aged man!

That little fire inside him, still burning slowly.