547: Chapter 547 The working class cried: "My monthly salary is three thousand, and you want me to pay twenty-eight million?"

Inside Box Number One.

Su Chen still stood before the window.

His current posture was like an active volcano about to erupt, accumulating enough fury to incinerate everything.

Outside, the echoes of the sky-high price of twenty-eight million still circled beneath the hall's dome like a flock of greedy vultures.

Thousands of gazes were burning, crazed, and even carried a hint of morbid anticipation.

Thirty million?

Or forty million?

They were waiting for this utterly insane playboy scion to roar out that final hysterical strike.

Qian Duoduo's hand tightly gripped the corner of Su Chen's clothes, his two-hundred-plus-jin frame shaking like the last withered leaf in the wind.

He wanted to cry out, but his throat felt as if it were being throttled by an invisible giant hand, only able to make death-like "urgh... urgh..." sounds.

The greedy golden light for Immortal Stones had long since vanished from his small eyes, leaving only a pure terror as if facing the end of the world.

Jian Buping's hand pressed on his sword hilt, his knuckles turning white from the strain.

He didn't understand auctions, but he understood Killing Intent.

The True Immortal pressure coming from Private Room Number Seven was bone-chillingly cold, indicating the newcomer meant no good.

In the corner, Wang Baobao finished gnawing on the last bits of Immortal Stone fragments, hugging her knees as her large, dark eyes stared unblinkingly at her boss's back.

She didn't understand what an auction was, but she knew her boss was doing something very important.

Because her boss's back was held very straight.

He was a completely different person from the usual salted fish boss who would never sit if he could lie down and was as limp as a noodle.

Su Chen's "back" was indeed tense.

But it wasn't because of nervousness; it was to maintain his "exasperated" persona so it wouldn't collapse at the final moment.

His mind was as clear as ten-thousand-year profound ice.

He even had the leisure to gently draw the curtain on this grand play he had directed and acted in himself.

[Twenty-eight million.]

[The shill from the Lingbao Trading Firm called out twenty-eight million.]

[Private Room Number Seven stopped at twenty-five million.]

[Very good. Two self-righteous wolves, in order to bite me, this 'rabbit,' to death, have already beaten each other bloody and bruised.]

[And I, this rabbit, only hopped twice in total.]

[The timing is just right. If I keep acting, it'll be too much.]

[Closing the net!]

In his mind, Su Chen nonchalantly snapped his fingers.

"Snap."

The next instant.

The "furious" and "exasperated" expression on his face vanished.

It wasn't restrained or calmed; rather, it was like peeling off a mask—clean, swift, and without a trace.

Beneath the mask was that eternally unchanging, lazy, and listless salted fish face that couldn't muster energy for anything in the world.

Under the fixed gaze of thousands of people in the hall.

Su Chen slowly turned around.

He paced back to that Warm Jade Lounge Chair that was comfortable enough to make an Immortal fall into decadence.

Then, he plopped down into it.

The entire movement was as smooth as flowing water, carrying a sense of calm and elegance as if leaving after the deed was done.

He didn't even spare another glance at the stage below, acting as if no one else were there as he picked up the Lingzhi Immortal Tea just brewed by the maid.

The tea was still steaming.

He brought it to his lips and blew on it gently, as if fearing it was too hot.

"Fuuu—"

This slight sound of airflow was incredibly clear and piercing in this hall that was so silent a needle drop could be heard.

Then, he took a delicious sip.

"Mm, good tea."

Only after doing all this did he finally lazily lift his eyelids and speak slowly in a tone that everyone in the hall could hear clearly, yet was so lazy it made one want to rush up and hit him.

"Twenty-eight million to buy a piece of broken ice."

"You guys are rich."

"You guys are awesome."

With one sentence, the Auctioneer's hand, which had just been raised to drop the gavel, froze in mid-air.

Su Chen yawned comfortably, completely slumping into the lounge chair as he waved at the stage below, as if shooing away a fly.

"This young master suddenly feels that this thing doesn't quite match my temperament."

"It's too cold; it's uncomfortable."

"I don't want it anymore. I'll let you have it."

At this moment, the world was hit with a pause button.

Sound, light, and even everyone's thoughts were instantly drained by these words, turning into an absolute vacuum.

A Cultivator who was holding a wine cup ready to watch the show had his arm frozen in mid-air. The amber wine flowed from the cup, drenching his head, yet he remained oblivious.

A Sect Elder who was whispering to a companion, asserting that Su Chen would bid forty million, had his mouth open in an "O" shape, his jaw seemingly dislocated and unable to close.

"Thud!"

The Immortal Wood Gavel in the Auctioneer's hand finally slipped from his stiff fingers and slammed heavily onto the auction platform.

The loud bang was like a thunderclap, jolting all the bodies whose souls had been drawn out!

"He... what did he say?"

"He... doesn't want it?!"

"Did I hear that right?! He played everyone!!"

The uproar was like a volcanic eruption, instantly blowing off the roof of the auction center!

Inside Box Number One.

Qian Duoduo's brain experienced an extreme transition from Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering to coming back to life.

The moment Su Chen said "I don't want it anymore," he clutched his chest, his eyes rolled back, and he felt his battered heart finally stop beating.

But when he understood the true meaning of those words.

A massive surge of joy after surviving a disaster rushed from the soles of his feet straight to his crown, instantly flooding his entire body!

He wasn't dead!

His Immortal Stones were saved!

The boss wasn't being a spendthrift!

The boss was setting a trap for people!

Qian Duoduo's plump body trembled violently due to the extreme emotional fluctuations. Looking at Su Chen's leisurely salted fish back, his eyes instantly turned red—not from sadness, but from excitement! From devotion!

He suddenly knelt on the ground and gave three heavy kowtows toward Su Chen's back, "Thump! Thump! Thump!", making the floor buzz.

His voice was choked, filled with the supreme adoration of having regained what was lost.

"Boss! You are my life-giver!"

And in the hall.

The shill Number Jia, that sturdy man wearing a Bamboo Hat, felt his legs go weak and slumped into his chair with a "thud."

It took only a single breath for his face to go from a furious flush to a terrified pale.

Twenty-eight million.

He was the one who called it.

That devil in Box Number One... didn't want it anymore.

Private Room Number Seven was also silent.

Then those twenty-eight million...

Were stuck in his hands?!

"Twenty-eight million... twenty-eight million..."

This number was like a death-dealing curse, echoing crazily in his mind, making him dizzy and his back instantly drenched in cold sweat.

He was just a Worker with a monthly salary of three thousand high-grade immortal stones!

Even if he went bankrupt, sold his blood and kidneys, and sold himself by the pound, he couldn't even make up a fraction of that number!

He slowly used all his strength to turn his stiff neck and look toward a certain direction on the second floor of the auction center.

That was the entrance to the stairs leading to the secret room on the top floor.

His gaze was filled with endless despair and pleading, his lips trembling so much he couldn't even utter a complete sentence.

"Young... Young Miss... save... save me..."