Just a minute Later — In the Grand Hall "O fairy," Robin said, his voice cold and tinged with frustration, "if a high-level request is made to the Chamber of Truth, present it to me directly—or at least forward a copy to my control panel. I have no intention of stepping foot in there again until I’ve identified the one responsible." Though a metallic mask concealed his face, the simmering anger in his voice was unmistakable. "<...Are you certain someone is trying to frame you, Mr. Human?>" the fairy asked hesitantly, trying to force a soft, comforting smile. "" "Don’t you dare compare me to the others!" Robin’s eyes flared open, pride radiating from his very core—an ancestral pride that seemed etched into his very bones. "...I’m not entirely certain one of them is behind it. Perhaps the rumor found its way out through some other means. But I couldn’t afford to sit idly by— I had to test them. I leaked an additional piece of information in my conversation earlier. If that intel makes its way into the outside world, it will confirm without a doubt that it was one of them. And if I catch the culprit after that..." His clenched fist trembled with tension, the sound of bones grinding echoing faintly in the air. He then let out a long breath, relaxing slightly, and gestured with a flick of his hand. "You said you’d take me somewhere optimal to observe the auction. Let’s get on with it." Sensing his fragile emotional state and choosing not to provoke him further, the fairy responded in a respectful, calm tone, In the blink of an eye, the entire world around Robin shifted. The cold stone floor beneath him vanished. The oppressive stillness of the Grand Hall gave way to a new, vibrant scene—familiar, yet impossibly fantastical. The sound of a vast, murmuring crowd filled his ears. Before him now stood a majestic platform—an enormous stage glowing with subtle light. Beyond it stretched an immense amphitheater, the seating arranged in grand, sweeping rows that climbed higher and higher, seemingly reaching into the heavens. "So... this is the belt-wide auction plaza?" Robin whispered, eyes wide. "It’s... incredible." The auction room he had seen earlier had been a closed chamber, dim and private, filled with perhaps a few hundred guests. But this place—this was an entirely different realm. Here, the auction was held beneath the open sky, where nothing confined the arena but drifting clouds and towering spirit flora that grew tall and elegant, adding an ethereal, almost mythic quality to the scene. The number of attendees here defied comprehension. "Hmm?" Robin frowned slightly. He noticed he could see the seating rows below his vantage point, and he looked around to understand where exactly the fairy had brought him. "A cloud?" he muttered, eyebrows rising. "No wonder it feels so soft... and oddly comfortable." Looking around at his level, he saw that he was not alone—several others were also seated on clouds, scattered in the skies. Many other clouds remained empty, drifting quietly, as if awaiting their occupants. The fairy’s voice reached him once more: She paused, then added with a touch of pride, "Perfect," Robin said, a satisfied smile curling his lips. "Activate stealth mode, then." He didn’t want any unnecessary attention today. Not even the hint of it. There was only one goal: win the gear—then vanish. the fairy said gently. Robin’s smile faded slightly, and he frowned. "Is that really necessary?" Robin let out a sharp groan, rubbing his forehead with the edge of his palm. His metal mask hid his face, but the tension was clear in his posture—the tightness of his shoulders, the tilt of his head. "I swear... I just hope this doesn’t turn into the same circus as auctions in the real world." He could already imagine the scene playing out before it even happened. The moment he placed a bid, every pair of eyes in the arena would swivel toward his cloud. It wouldn’t matter how stealthy or low-key he tried to be—once he placed a high bid, he would be a beacon, a target. He could almost hear the scoffs and jeers of ancient clan heads and pompous nobles shouting across the arena, "Who dares compete with us? Step down, peasant!" the fairy replied gently. She smiled politely, then dipped into a graceful curtsy. Robin hesitated, then nodded slowly, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his eyes behind the mask. "Actually, yeah. There is one thing..." He leaned slightly forward, his voice low, conspiratorial, almost playful. "I want my cloud labeled with a specific number. Cloud number 100." The fairy paused, her expression tightening subtly as she processed the request. Her brows furrowed just a bit. "<...A symbolic gesture, perhaps? Another message you wish to send?>" Robin let out a short laugh, his mood lifting just slightly. "Maybe. I don’t know what kind of chaos today will bring, but I intend to be ready for all of it. Cloud 100—let’s make that my signature." "Very well, I’ll see what I can do. I may need to adjust the seating sequence slightly...> The fairy gave a resigned little nod, spun on her heel mid-air, and disappeared in a swirl of glimmering light. Robin was left in silence, suspended high above the colossal open-air arena. He let out a long breath, then glanced downward. "How exactly does one relax in a place ?" he muttered, mostly to himself. The sight below was awe-inspiring. A massive platform stood like a celestial stage in the center of a great amphitheater, ringed by tier upon tier of rising seats that climbed toward the heavens. There were no walls. The only boundaries were the floating clouds above and the faint glimmer of spiritual flora that danced across the air, painting the entire space with an ethereal, almost mythical beauty. There were so many people. Too many to count—millions, no, tens of millions, gathered below. All of them radiating power, wealth, and influence. Almost no automated avatars. These were real beings. Real souls. They had come in person to this auction, because some things were too important to delegate. These were not your average citizens or traveling cultivators. No—these were planetary sovereigns, ancient cultivator lords, patriarchs of forgotten bloodlines. Each and every one of them surrounded by invisible barriers of influence, their mere presence a declaration of supremacy. They weren’t here just to bid. They were here to see and be seen, to forge alliances, show off their treasures, and prove their rank within the hierarchy of the Middle Planetary Belt. Some were here to climb higher. Others, simply to survive the day without losing face. Robin shook his head slowly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "The fairy was right. This really isn’t the kind of place you just sit back and sip tea in..." Still, he had fifteen minutes. No need to waste them. He summoned his control panel again, its smooth interface materializing with a gesture. He flipped lazily through options, not really expecting much—until his eyes landed on a particular choice. He tapped the icon, then selected Mid-Sector 100, just for consistency. A familiar number now. "Well then... who should we start with?" He smiled slyly, then moved to the search bar. With steady fingers, he typed the words: "Empire... of the Nine Paths."