Nothing.
They had absolutely nothing.
A month had passed since the first auction, and despite the combined efforts of the Underworld's finest, the noble houses' private networks, and the Satans' elite, not a single devil had managed to get their hands on the elusive woman named Xeno.
Once the initial storm had settled, she had simply vanished into the ether. It was as if she had been a collective hallucination, leaving behind only a trail of chaos and a single, miraculously altered young devil to prove she had ever existed in the first place.
Sirzechs Lucifer rubbed his temples as he stared down at the towering mountain of paperwork on his desk.
The Great Satans ruled a magically monitored civilization, yet a pink-haired devil had casually slipped away from them at every turn without leaving so much as a single footprint or a stray thread of mana to track her by.
His gaze drifted to a secondary folder labeled with a name that had been another constant source of stress, Salvon Buer.
The fool had nearly gotten himself killed. Three times, to be exact.
And each attempt had dragged Salvon progressively closer to the brink of permanent death as the fool had come to realize that he was not all invincible after all.
The first attempt had occurred less than forty-eight hours after his spectacular Rating Game victory. It was a subtle, insidious attempt at first, a poisoned cup of rare, expensive wine laced with Basilisk's Tear, a highly restricted toxin smuggled from the dark crevices of the dark elf territories from the Norse pantheon.
The poison had the capability to bypass standard regeneration by curdling the victim's blood and rotting their magical core from the inside out. When Salvon drank it, his throat and lungs had dissolved into a black, liquefied mush in seconds.
His newfound blue flames, though, had flared to life instantly, but the ensuing battle within his own veins had been a waking nightmare. The fire had been forced to incinerate his infected blood, vaporizing his own cardiovascular system from the inside to halt the poison's spread.
He had survived, but only after spending seven agonizing hours screaming in a room as his body repeatedly burned and rebuilt its own vital organs to purge the lingering chemical rot. Sirzech shook his head. He didn't know which would have been better for the fool, to have just died there on the first attempt or to suffer like that.
The second attempt was far more violent, an organized ambush by high-mid-class. These assassins were professionals who understood that physical regeneration was not invincible, it seemed, and Armed with black-market special daggers that seemed to negate magic, they sliced off his limbs and attempted to separate his severed remains elsewhere.
They had intended to scatter his body parts across different locations to see if his immortality could survive being physically separated by millions of miles away. Salvon had only escaped by unleashing a desperate firestorm, converting his entire physical mass into an explosion of blue flames that vaporized three of the assassins and scorched the earth for miles. He reformed from the ashes pale, trembling, and deeply traumatized from all the pain. seems his ability to not get hit by physical attacks did not mean they weren't things that could still affect him, and some magic seems to work.
The third and final strike was the absolute breaking point, it seemed, for the man. He had been snatch up from a party he was at, satan, the fool still had the courage to go out after the frst two it seemed, he had been snatched up and was found a day later by some of his peerage memebers as his captors had been harvesting his genetic material, planning to bleed him dry and dissect him to see just how the power he had gotten worked.
The harsh slap of reality had completely shattered Salvon's arrogant pride. He finally realized that as long as he had no one to back him up and continued roaming around like that, things could keep on getting worse. The fool had run straight back to the Buer Clan head, his brother, begging for their protection and apologizing for not taking the offer before when they asked him to return.
Sirzechs let out a long, weary sigh, tapping his fingers against his desk. Legally, that should have pacified the situation. With the Buer Clan actively shielding their reclaimed member under their guard, most would back down at the thought of making an enemy of a noble clan.
But not everyone would, and the Buer and Salvon still had to be careful. So peace finally, yes? NO.
Instead, things had only gotten annoying.
The Phenex Clan refused to let the matter drop. Their pride had been thoroughly insulted at the young man's rejection of joining them, and they were throwing their political and financial weight around the capital, demanding Salvon be legally adopted into their house, wedded to a Phenex daughter of the main branch, or bound by a contract of non-competition for their business.
The concept of someone outside their bloodline possessing their signature trait of immortality and healing without gains to the clan itself was unacceptable.
It was starting to grate on Sirzechs' nerves. Honestly, he already wasn't fond of the Phenex Clan, especially given his younger sister's profound hatred for their third son, Riser.
Rias. His adorable, stubborn, cute little sister.
The moment she had first been informed of her arranged engagement to Riser, she had thrown a tantrum and had a huge fight with their parents.
When she met Riser after that, she seemed to have insulted him, and he had not taken that well. Things had only spiraled downward from there as both seemed to want to make each other suffer.
At this point, Sirzechs knew she was actively planning to flee to the human realm, specifically to a quiet town called Kuoh, just to put an ocean of space between herself and the arrogant Phenex.
He couldn't even blame her, Riser was a smug, pampered boy who relied entirely on his family's immortal reputation.
But Sirzechs had far greater, more serious problems to worry about than family drama at the moment.
He stared at the reports with a deepening frown. The "Power Fruit" Salvon had consumed had drawn a terrifying amount of attention outside their faction. The Church in the Human World was already asking quietly in hush hush, suspicious that the devils had discovered some power or something and were getting all tense about it.
Even worse, Fallen Angels had been spotted near the border town close to the auction site. Even representatives from non-Abrahamic pantheons were sending quiet inquiries, eager to know if this miracle was a one time thing or not. He really was hoping it was just a one time thing at this point.
Fortunately, they weren't moving openly yet. The doors of his office swung open.
Grayfia entered with her usual silent grace. To any ordinary observer, her beautiful face was a mask of flawless, unbothered composure. But Sirzechs was her husband and her king, not noticing the rigid, defensive tension in her shoulders or the slight, sharp tilt of her chin would make him thoroughly unqualified for both positions.
"What is it, Grayfia?" he asked, sitting up straight, his relaxed posture instantly vanishing.
"One of our people just acquired this, my king," Grayfia said, crossing the room quickly and handing him a pristine, gold-embossed black envelope.
Sirzechs opened it, his eyes scanning the elegant, flowing script. He froze.
The mysterious auction house, Malice & Marvels, was holding another event. Tomorrow.
The invitation listed a variety of magical artifacts, weapons, and armor, but at the very bottom were the words, Special Items. There were no descriptions and no details about them.
Which, after what happened in the last auction, created a sort of enticing mystery designed to bait the greediest eyes in the world.
Sirzechs' eyes narrowed as a cold sensation settled deep in his chest. Was it another fruit? Was there another?
"Grayfia," Sirzechs said, his voice dropping into a serious, commanding tone as he stood up from his desk, his red aura faintly flaring. "Summon Mathers and Souji."
"At once, my king," Grayfia replied, bowing her head and immediately stepping back into a silver magic circle as she vanished.
Sirzechs turned to look out the grand window, his eyes reflecting the glowing lights of the capital. He was going to the outskirts personally, and he was taking his Knight, Souji Okita, and his Bishop, MacGregor Mathers. If another miracle fruit were to appear, Lucifer would see it with his own eyes and ensure it did not fall into the wrong hands and cause more trouble.
And if he was able to get something for his sister, well, that was just a bonus, he thought as a smile grew on his face.
Back in the Auction House.
Lucian Plan was going well.
After auctioning the Phoenix fruit, he had deliberately waited. He watched the Underworld scramble, letting tensions build, and then waited a little longer until they finally began to convince themselves that the fruit had been a unique, one-time thing. And just when they were starting to let their guards down—bam.
He dropped the second set of invitations.
This time, he had expanded the list. While he still officially targeted the four towns he was networking, his eyes and ears on the streets had confirmed that these invites were being bought, traded, and even sold straight into the hands of high-ranking noble houses in the capital. Tomorrow's venue was going to be packed to the absolute brim with high-tier targets.
"Hey! Careful with that!"
The voice that echoed through the grand main hall of the auction house wasn't Lucian's, but Xeno's. Clad in her voluptuous, pink-haired disguise, He was currently overseeing the final touch-ups. Over the past month, Lucian had expanded the building, adding luxurious private VIP booths and elevating the decor to match the prestigious crowd he expected.
Once she was satisfied that the major preparations were set, Xeno turned to her head staff. "Handle the remaining details. I will be in my office."
The workers bowed respectfully as she retreated into the private room.
Now alone, Lucian decided to indulge in a little tactical curiosity. He sat cross-legged in the center of the room on the plush carpet, letting his breathing level out. He closed his eyes, called on his Observation Haki, and actively tapped into his Raum Clan trait.
Instantly, the world exploded.
A torrent of blinding, disjointed visions flooded his consciousness. Images of tomorrow and yesterday flashed in rapid succession. faces, movements, words, all overlapping in his mind.
Everything was so overwhelming, it was like his mind was being torn apart.
'Calm yourself, fool,' the dry, ancient voice of Raum resonated in his mind. The long-dead demon clicked his tongue in deep irritation, his phantom presence looming over Lucian's mental space. 'What an absolute disgrace. Even after a full year of my guidance, you still struggle to get even a glimpse of what you want.'
Lucian did his absolute best to ignore the Demon's nagging, keeping his mind strictly focused on the task at hand. He channeled his magic, trying to control where and what his consciousness saw.
'The disrespect of this child... Tsk. If I were still drawing breath, I would have pulled your heart out through your throat for daring to ignore me. You, young devil, have absolutely no respect for the ancient blood.'
Finally, seeing that his insults weren't reaching Lucian, the ancient demon fell silent.
Lucian gritted his teeth, forcing the millions of images filling his mind to conve, compressing the vision until it locked onto the grand hall of Malice & Marvels tomorrow afternoon.
He saw the crowd. He saw the VIP booths. He saw the guests murmuring in hushed, greedy tones. And then, his focus locked onto a specific group entering the hall as the room went silent.
A handsome man with cascading, crimson hair who was followed by a beautiful, silver-haired maid and two others. And they weren't the only ones to show. Though he'd never seen them in this life, he recognized a lot of faces around.
Lucian's lips slowly curved into a sharp, delighted smirk.
"Oh my..." he murmured to himself, his heart hammering with a mixture of excitement and intense anticipation. "Now this... this is interesting. What luxurious company I'm going to have."
He severed the connection immediately.
The sudden cutoff hit him as A wave of intense vertigo washed over him, and Lucian gasped, leaning forward and slamming his hands against the floor to keep from passing out. His head throbbed with a splitting, agonizing pressure, the feedback always felt like his brain had been rattled, and he had to wipe a stray trickle of blood from his nose.
Every single time. Seeing the future always took a toll on him.
Was he sure he was doing it right. Maybe that demon didn't teach him right.
'Are you questioning my teaching? ' Raum's voice was dark, and Lucian could feel he was serious here. He let out a small, tired laugh. 'No, No. I was just wondering why I always end up like this when I look into the future'
'Is there any wonder.' the demon said, 'you're weak, and so you can't handle it,' he stated like it was a matter of fact, which maybe it was.
He sighed, he was weak, that's why he rarely relied on it. Unlike his ancestor, who could supposedly perceive hundreds of overlapping timelines simultaneously without breaking a sweat, Lucian was still limited to viewing a single timeline, and still, the strain was like trying to force a river through a narrow straw as his mind felt like it was tearing apart.
The past was slightly easier, though he made sure never to look beyond two decades back that was his own rule, though.
But the present? The present was his playground.
Over the last twelve months, Lucian had mastered the ability to project his senses through the eyes of his fellow Raum Clan members. The members and even his biological mother had absolutely no idea that the "mistake" they had discarded was casually watching their daily lives, using them as free, high-level intelligence assets to keep track of the things going on in the wider underworld.
He knew exactly how much panic his property deed had caused them, and he relished every single ounce of their confusion.
Slowly, Lucian pushed himself up from the floor, wiping the blood from his nose. He dragged his aching body onto the plush office couch, staring up at the ceiling as a low, rumbling chuckle escaped his lips.
From what his future sight had just shown him, tomorrow was going to be an absolute masterpiece if it was anything close to that timeline. He was about to send a shockwave that would rattle the entire supernatural world.
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