848: Chapter 843 Here to cause trouble?

Shen Yan took a sip of the wine; it tasted a bit astringent, not as good as the tea Chen Guangke brewed.

"Get me two tickets. Also, I don't want too many people to know I'm there."

Kevin nodded immediately.

"Understood. Please rest tonight. I'll have everything arranged first thing tomorrow morning."

That night, Shen Yan stayed in the top-floor guest room of the Hosen Manor, overlooking the lights of the entire city.

He wasn't sleepy.

The system's countdown flickered on his retina like a silent urge.

What exactly was that "samp" raw solution?

For the system to give it an S-rank evaluation, it was definitely no ordinary object.

The next morning, the sky over Saint Lodu remained gloomy and shrouded in mist.

Shen Yan changed into an inconspicuous black tactical jacket and put on a baseball cap. Chen Guangke dressed similarly, carrying a portable case filled with various detection instruments.

There was no fleet of luxury cars, only a low-profile Ford Raptor arranged by Kevin.

117 Hawthorne Avenue.

This was a typical Victorian-style building. The red bricks of the exterior walls had turned a dark black, covered in dead vines that looked like a withered palm clutching the dying house.

The weeds in the yard were knee-high, and the rusted iron gate was half-ajar, letting out a strange creaking sound.

The auction was being held in the yard.

Not many people had come; most were professional "treasure hunters"—middlemen who specialized in buying abandoned houses to scavenge and resell valuable items.

Each one had a greedy look in their eyes, like vultures circling over carrion.

Shen Yan lowered the brim of his hat and blended into the crowd, appearing completely unremarkable.

"What good stuff could be in this dump?"

Chen Guangke muttered under his breath, while the Geiger counter in his hand kept twitching slightly. "The radiation levels are a bit high. What exactly was that old madman doing before he died?"

"Don't talk."

Shen Yan's gaze swept across the corners of the yard, finally locking onto the inconspicuous basement entrance.

According to the intelligence, the item was down there.

The auctioneer was a balding middle-aged man whose speech was as fast as a machine gun, peddling a pile of junk furniture from the house.

"This pile of antique chairs, starting bid is 50 dollars! Anyone?"

No one raised their hand.

The cost of moving such large pieces of furniture was too high; it wasn't worth it.

Shen Yan waited patiently.

Until the auctioneer pointed to the locked iron door of the basement.

"This basement is a package deal. The key is lost, and the contents are unknown. It could be gold, or it could be a rat's nest. Starting bid is 200 dollars!"

This kind of "blind box" auction was the best at stimulating a gambler's psyche.

Several treasure hunters began to whisper among themselves.

"210!" A burly man with a fleshy face raised his hand. He wore a leather jacket, and the bulge at his waist suggested he was carrying a weapon.

"250."

Another black man wearing a gold chain followed up.

Shen Yan didn't move.

He was observing.

Through the system's advanced vision, he could see a faint blue halo in the basement—the marker for the quest item.

But around that halo, there seemed to be some red warning lines.

Those were traps.

"500!"

The man in the leather jacket grew impatient and doubled the bid, wanting to scare off the competition.

The surroundings fell silent.

Spending five thousand dollars on a basement of unknown depth was too risky.

The auctioneer raised his hammer.

"500 once, 5,000 twice..."

"Ten thousand."

Shen Yan's voice wasn't loud, but it sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet yard.

Everyone's gaze converged on him.

The man in the leather jacket whipped his head around, glaring menacingly at Shen Yan with a threatening look in his eyes.

"Hey, Asian kid, are you here to pick a fight?"

He walked over, his massive frame like a wall, blocking the sunlight from Shen Yan.

"This is Jack's turf. If you're smart, get lost."

Chen Guangke took a step forward, standing in front of Shen Yan. With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, his hand already reached for the tactical pen in his pocket.

Shen Yan reached out to stop Chen Guangke.

He looked up at the burly man named Jack, his tone as flat as if he were asking for directions.

"This is an auction. The highest bidder wins."

"Twenty thousand."

Shen Yan directly called out a new figure.

Jack's face turned the color of pig liver. Having hung around here for over a decade, he had never seen such an "easy mark" who didn't know the rules.

"Good, very good."

Jack sneered, his hand slowly reaching toward his lower back.

"You have the money to buy it, but I'm afraid you won't have the life to take it."

The people around them quickly scattered, fearing they would be splattered with blood.

The auctioneer hid behind the table in fright; such conflicts were not rare at auctions in the slums.

Just as the atmosphere reached its breaking point.

Jack's phone suddenly rang.

The piercing ringtone broke the standoff.

Jack didn't want to answer it at first, but when he saw the caller ID, his face instantly turned deathly pale.

It was a call from the true boss of this area.

"Hello... Boss..."

A roar came from the other end of the phone, loud enough for even Shen Yan to hear.

"You stupid pig! Who told you to cause trouble in that house?"

"Immediately! Right now! Apologize to the gentleman in the black tactical jacket!"

"That is a big shot even the Hosen Family would treat as an honored guest! If you want to die, don't drag me down with you!"

The phone in Jack's hand slipped and hit the dusty ground.

He looked at Shen Yan as if he were seeing a Tyrannosaurus Rex in sheep's clothing.

Cold sweat poured down his forehead. He swallowed hard, and his legs began to tremble.

The arrogant aura from just a moment ago vanished instantly without a trace.

"Sor... sorry, sir."

Jack bent over, wishing he could bury his head in his crotch.

"This basement is yours. No need for money. Consider it... consider it a small token of my respect."

Shen Yan didn't spare him a single glance.

He walked up to the auctioneer and took out a thick stack of US dollars—exactly twenty thousand.

"I don't like owing favors."

"Also, I want to go in and clear the scene immediately."

Five minutes later, the people in the yard had all fled, leaving only Shen Yan and Chen Guangke.

The rusted-shut iron door was cut open by Chen Guangke using hydraulic shears.

A musty smell mixed with the acidic scent of chemical reagents wafted out.

Shen Yan turned on his flashlight, the beam of light piercing through the darkness.

The basement was large, with overturned test tubes and broken instruments everywhere.

The walls were covered in frantic formulas and graffiti—the ravings left behind by Hermann before his death.

"This place is practically a Resident Evil scene."

Chen Guangke covered his nose, while the Geiger counter in his hand chirped even more frantically.

Shen Yan ignored the cluttered mess.

He walked straight to the deepest part of the basement, where there was a metal cabinet that looked like an abandoned refrigerator.

According to the system's intelligence, the item was inside.

But this cabinet had no keyhole, only a complex electronic keypad.

"If this thing is forcibly dismantled, the self-destruct device inside will level everything within a hundred-meter radius."