She is Back

Until now, no one knew exactly who was in the center room on the third floor, but everyone understood it must be the richest and most powerful person in the capital—Leif Vexley.

But if it really was Leif, that would be uninteresting. Now that the mystery was revealed and the opening bid came from a woman, everyone grew even more curious about who she really was.

Meanwhile, after this bid, there was no more movement from the last room on the second floor.

The man wearing the golden mask still sat upright and formal, but his shoulders trembled slightly. Even through the mask, one could clearly see the faint blood vessels in his eyes.

Callum had never seen him like this. He stopped drinking and stared at him, asking, “You... alright?”

The man in the golden mask slowly lifted his head. If you could see the face beneath the mask, you’d find it terrifying—an aura of murderous intent stabbing straight to his brow.

His voice was cold and stiff through the mask, each word slow and deliberate: “It’s her! She’s back!”

Hearing this, Callum finally straightened up. He furrowed his handsome long brows and after a long pause, forced a calm smile: “Are you sure you didn’t hear wrong? She only said one sentence. People can sound similar. It might not be her, right?”

But the man’s hand under the table clenched so tightly it cracked. Gritting his teeth, he suddenly let out a cold laugh: “Impossible. Her voice—I will never mistake it. It’s her. She really is back.”

His voice was filled with darkness, madness, and hatred. It’s easy to imagine the sinister face beneath that golden mask.

But at the same time, beneath the mask, buried under that hatred, there was a wild joy he didn’t even realize himself.

On the third floor, in the private room on the left, an eerie silence had taken over. You could hear a pin drop.

Even with the chatter downstairs going wild, Rocky couldn’t hear a single word. It was like all the noise around him had just drained away, leaving only the lingering echo of that sweet, clear voice:

"Room No.1... bid—one billion!"

Room No.1... she was right next door!

Rocky covered his face with one hand, long, slender fingers pressed over most of it, making it hard to tell—was he thrilled, or pissed?

He stayed sprawled out in the same lazy pose as before. For a while, he didn’t move. Then, through his fingers, a soft chuckle slipped out.

“Heh... Hahaha—HAHAHAHA!”

At first it was quiet, like he was trying to hold it in. But the more he laughed, the louder and more unrestrained it became—like he’d just found the funniest thing in the world.

Finally, he pulled his hand away. His handsome face was now lit up with a grin.

The next second, Rocky got up from his chair. Hands clasped behind his back, the same cocky look still playing across his face, he strolled over to the front terrace of the room.

Behind the curtains, he stood tall and straight—his usually arrogant face now full of warmth and amusement.

“What’s young master Croft doing now?”

“Did he go off the rails again? What’s he doing out here now? Don’t tell me he’s trying to light the Skyward Flame too?”

“Seriously, this guy’s brain is just messed up…”

“At least he looks way better than any of you ugly nobodies…”

Everyone turned to look at the last speaker—a man with a delicate, feminine face, who blushed bright red after he spoke. The whole crowd shivered in unison.

“Ugh…”

Rocky placed one hand on the railing, still smiling as he called out:

“I’m withdrawing the Eclipse Vine. Gifting it—completely free—to the bidder in Room No.1. Any and all losses? I’ll cover ’em. Heh…”

The place erupted.

Everyone’s gaze shot upstairs. Through the curtain, someone could just be seen gently sniffing a small, white flower. No one knew where he’d picked it from.

“He just gave away something worth a billion?! He’s definitely nuts!”

“I always heard young master Croft was a spoiled rich kid with issues. Guess it’s true…”

“Wait—is the duel canceled now?!”

“This is way more fun than another Skyward Flame! Holy shit HAHAHA!”

Rocky took a few moments to enjoy the scent of the delicate little flower. It wasn’t anything rare, just something picked off the roadside. But that’s exactly the kind of fragile thing he liked.

Then, with a quiet smile, he casually tossed it off the balcony—just like that—and walked out of the room, hands still behind his back.

Tonight had been crazy enough.

To most people, nothing he did would ever come as a surprise. He was, after all, the classic playboy with no discipline and too much money.

Down below, the white flower floated gently to the ground, landing alone.

“It’s… it’s raining. What a buzzkill! Alright, show’s over, let’s go!”

“Ugh, rain again? I’m getting soaked here!”

Because Rocky had pulled the Eclipse Vine from the auction and agreed to cover all the losses, the bidding naturally came to an end. With a serious look, Briar stepped off the stage.

Back in the farthest room on the second floor, a loud crash broke the silence.

The man in the gold mask had trashed everything he could get his hands on. Callum’s expensive wine was now just shattered glass and a room full of booze.

But Callum didn’t care about his wine right now. He struggled to hold the masked man back—only to freeze in shock when he touched him.

The man was trembling uncontrollably.

Callum sighed. Still holding onto his mad friend, he barked, “Enough! Seriously, that’s ENOUGH! Look at you—what the hell are you even mad about?! When you lost it just now, no one could stop you, and you—”

He stopped himself before saying anything harsher.

Truth was, he’d already been through enough. The scolding, the punishment—he’d endured it all for years.

After a long pause, the man in the golden mask said flatly, “Get out.”

Callum rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

He let go and looked around the mess of a room, then clapped his hands and said, “Same old temper. You’re cleaning this up, I’m out.”

The masked man said again, “Get out.”

This time, his voice was hoarse, not as full of rage as before—just… tired.

Callum gave him another eye-roll and said, “Alright, alright. I’m leaving. Wouldn’t want to ruin your mood just by existing—so yeah, I’m gone.”

He shuffled over to the door. But when he reached it, he paused, his back still turned.

After a long silence, he said quietly, “Reid… it’s been five years. How long are you planning to keep shutting yourself away?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He pulled open the door, let the cold wind rush in, yawned, and waved lazily.

“I’m out.”

Inside the room, the man in the golden mask clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked. Who knows how long he stood there, until suddenly—like he sensed something—he let go and rushed out the door.

***