The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 844

The auction had not started yet, and already there was a queue.

It ran down the side of the ballroom, past the gold chairs and the tall black windows. At the head of it, at a little table with a white cloth, sat a tall man with a silver beard cut to a point and rings of green stone on four fingers.

Master Gregory had come down from the hills twenty minutes after Alex. The whole room had turned for him, like a field of corn in the wind.

"Master Gregory, from the capital!"

"They say the Duke's mother waited six months to see him."

"And the charm, they say it will give health, luck and longevity. You cannot buy it unless you buy it directly from the master. Meeting him here is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

On the white cloth lay a pile of little yellow paper knots. A banker's wife held out both hands for one, as if it were a newborn baby.

"Master," said a fat man in the queue, "twenty thousand dollars for a peace charm. Please."

"Twenty thousand is nothing," said the man behind him. "I'll take five."

Master Gregory nodded, gracious, and took the money without counting it.

In the last row, Alex turned a page of his catalogue.

"Twenty thousand dollars for a bit of folded paper," he said, not very quietly. "That's easy money. Too easy a way to make money."

The queue went silent. Heads turned.

Master Gregory lifted his eyes to the back of the room. He took in the plain dark jacket. Then the empty chairs on either side of it.

"Young man," he said, in a voice that carried without trying, "you can eat whatever you like, but you cannot say whatever you like. People grow a brain so they can think before they open their mouths."

A ripple of laughter.

"I did think," said Alex. "The ones not thinking are the ones wasting money to buy a piece of useless paper."

The laughter died. The master's face did not change. Only his ringed fingers went still on the white cloth.

"I know who you are," he said softly. "The idiot and the scammer." He smiled into his beard. "We will talk later."

---

The auctioneer struck his little hammer, and the room settled.

"Lot one. A painted silk fan, two hundred years old. We start at ten thousand dollars."

Alex raised his paddle. He did not need a fan. He wanted to see who was watching.

"Twenty thousand," said Tyler Hunt at once, from the front row, without even turning round.

"Thirty," said Alex.

"Fifty."

Alex lowered his paddle. Tyler got the fan, and twisted in his seat to grin at the back of the room.

"Kid," he called, "tonight I'll show you the difference between us."

"You already have," said Alex. "You've got a fan now."

"Lot two. A jade brush pot."

"Ten thousand," said Alex.

"Thirty," said Tyler.

"Lot three. A painted screen."

"Fifteen thousand."

"Forty!" Tyler laughed. "Keep going, idiot. I've got all night."

By lot four, the whole room had understood the game. Whatever the idiot in the last row wanted, the Hunt boy would take from him.

"Lot four. A blue-and-white porcelain vase from the old coastal kilns. We start at twenty thousand dollars."

It was a fat, ugly vase, painted with a fat, ugly fish.

Alex lifted his paddle and held it there. "Fifty thousand."

Tyler laughed out loud. "That? That's worth thirty thousand at most!"

"I like it," said Alex. "My aunt keeps her umbrellas in one just like it."

The front rows sniggered.

"One hundred thousand," said Tyler.

"Two hundred."

"Three hundred."

"Five hundred thousand," said Alex.

The auctioneer looked up from his book. "Five hundred thousand dollars, in the last row. For lot four."

Tyler swung round in his chair. "Are you doing this on purpose?"

"I'm buying a vase I like. Is that not allowed?" Alex tilted his head. "Or have you run out of money? I could lend you some. Interest included."

The whole room laughed this time. Tyler's ears went red.

"Listen, idiot," he said through his teeth. "The more you want it, the less I'll let you have it. One million."

"Two million."

"Three!"

"Three and a half."

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