Chapter Forty-One: New Rifles and Ammunition

"Two hundred and fifty thousand points!" A roaring voice rang out—it belonged to a gene warrior, eyes bloodshot. Gene warriors were already known for their high sensitivity; if he managed to get these boots, with the added strength, speed, and vision, Controllers and Gunners would be crying for help.

"Two hundred and sixty thousand points!" boomed an even louder voice, this time from a mechanic—no telling which specialization, but it was obvious he wanted the boots to greatly improve his self-preservation.

"Two hundred and seventy thousand points!" The gene warrior, now thoroughly annoyed.

"Two hundred and eighty thousand!" The mechanic pressed on relentlessly.

"Two hundred and ninety thousand!" The gene warrior’s voice was ironclad in determination.

"Three hundred thousand!" Now the mechanic was furious too, throwing in every last credit, unbothered by such a sum.

The hall fell silent, the players stunned by the sheer extravagance of these titans.

"Three hundred and fifty thousand points!" Maragobi’s voice thundered over the previous two, silencing them.

The auctioneer was moved to tears. He couldn’t understand what was happening today. Why did fate shine on him so? With this record, he would be famous overnight. No auctioneer in Dreamstar City had ever sold an item for seven times its starting price. He had just broken that record—and it looked like it would go even higher.

"Four hundred thousand points!" The mechanic had gone all in.

"Five hundred thousand points!" Another voice, higher still. The crowd erupted—one bid raised by a hundred thousand. This world had gone mad.

The mechanic was utterly defeated. Wu Hua’s surprise intervention gave the auctioneer another taste of what “no highest, only higher” really meant.

"Six hundred thousand points!" Maragobi was now determined to “finish off” Wu Hua. But his voice trembled. If this price couldn’t suppress Wu Hua’s madness, he would have to admit defeat.

Wu Hua, however, was suddenly silent. He said nothing more.

The auctioneer knew the time was ripe. He quickly swung the gavel: “Six hundred thousand points, once! Six hundred thousand points, twice! Six hundred thousand points, thrice! Sold! Congratulations again to bidder 1860 for winning the blue-grade Soaring Cloud Boots.”

The crowd exploded, but Maragobi’s face had turned pale. Wu Hua was looking at him with a half-smile, clearly having driven the price up on purpose—and left him holding the bag.

"You, you—well…" Maragobi was so angry he could barely speak.

"I’ve always been well, but you’re better. Congratulations for buying a blue item for six hundred thousand points. Congratulations, truly," Wu Hua replied sincerely, his expression begging for a punch.

"Just you wait," Maragobi spat, nearly coughing blood—paying twelve times the base price was just too much.

"I’ll be waiting," Wu Hua said with a smile.

In the conference room of Shenlight Corporation, President Shen and Lifelong Bachelor watched the heated scene via broadcast. Both grabbed beers and finished them in one go. Just from this pair of boots alone, Shenlight would earn a service fee of thirty thousand credit points—over four thousand yuan in real money. Truly a harvest of both fame and fortune.

When Wu Hua pushed open the door and entered, President Shen respectfully handed him a check. "Mr. Bao, after deducting the deposit, service fee, and auction fee, here are the three hundred and seventy thousand credit points you’re owed. You can cash it at Dreamstar Bank anytime."

Wu Hua took it and, without even glancing at it, slipped it into his pocket. President Shen and Lifelong Bachelor were in awe. Such poise—this was what made a master stand out.

President Shen wanted to befriend Wu Hua. "Mr. Bao, this is our company’s gold VIP membership card. If you ever want us to sell equipment for you, we’ll only charge a three percent service fee. You’re our very first gold member. Shenlight will always welcome you."

Wu Hua accepted without hesitation. Now he had nearly seven hundred thousand credit points, close to a hundred thousand yuan. Looking back on the past few days, it all felt like a dream.

"Heh, by the way, where’s your company’s auctioneer from earlier? I’d like to meet him." Wu Hua asked, breaking a trade taboo. But right now, his AUG was useless without good ammo, and auctioneers saw everything—they’d know where to find it.

President Shen looked troubled. "Well…"

Lifelong Bachelor quickly jumped in, "I’ll call him right away, but I hope Mr. Bao won’t ask any sensitive questions that’ll put us on the spot, okay?"

Wu Hua laughed. "Don’t worry, I understand."

The auctioneer met Wu Hua at Shenlight’s entrance. When he learned Wu Hua had been the seller of the Soaring Cloud Boots, his gratitude was as boundless as a flooding river. He knew full well he couldn’t have fetched ten times the base price on his own—it was all thanks to the item’s extraordinary attributes.

"If you need anything, just say the word. I’ll do anything I can," the auctioneer declared, thumping his chest.

Wu Hua smiled. "Actually, it’s nothing much. I just want to know where I can get ammunition for this gun."

The auctioneer hesitated. "Sir, I do know a supplier, but by the rules, I can’t reveal their information. However, I have a friend with many sources—he’ll definitely know where you can buy what you want."

"Oh?" Wu Hua asked. "What’s your friend’s name?"

The auctioneer’s answer made Wu Hua laugh. His luck these past few days had truly been extraordinary.

Wu Hua knew this friend as well—he had a rather formidable name: "A Journalist’s Name Doesn’t Have to Be Too Long!"

After the Survival Road mission, Qimen Corporation had promoted all nine mercenaries who participated to platinum VIP members. The Journalist, for his outstanding performance, had been promoted by Mr. Iron himself to deputy director of Qimen TV, taking up his post the day after the victory banquet.

The Journalist was a good man, grateful to all the brothers and sisters who’d taken part in that mission—especially Wu Hua. If not for Wu Hua’s timely warning at the demolition center, he’d still be hauling a camera through the streets, chasing his “promising” reporter job.

So when he saw Wu Hua’s message on his receiver, the Journalist dropped everything and dashed out of the TV station, speeding straight to the park beside the Dreamland Grand Hotel. He ran four red lights on the way, earning himself a four-hundred credit fine from the NPC police.

"Crazy—Craze!" the Journalist called out breathlessly as he jumped out of the car.

"Come here," Wu Hua beckoned.

The Journalist hurried over and took the metal box from Wu Hua’s hands. Inside lay the AUG. One glance and the Journalist was stunned. "Craze, you want to run an ad? No problem—fifty percent off, I can give you thirty. I’ll start promoting you right away."

Wu Hua rolled his eyes, nearly fainting. "Are you crazy? Never flaunt your wealth! I just want to know where I can buy 5.56mm NATO armor-piercing rounds."

"Craze, you’re a firearms expert—you should know those rounds are hard to find, even on the black market," the Journalist replied. "But I do know an NPC master gunsmith. She should have them—I interviewed her last time. I’ll take you there."

"That’s more like it," Wu Hua grinned.