"What took you so long?" Argent asked when Matthew came back to his seat.
Matthew only shrugged in response. He looked at where the ghost was standing, but this time, he didn't see him.
"It's about to start," Argent said. "Go, check the brochure real quick so you'll know if you want to buy something."
Matthew complied without saying another word. He opened the brochure while observing his surroundings. The ghost was no longer there. This time, he let out a sigh of relief. "Why was he able to touch me?" he asked himself. Does that mean there are ghosts that could touch the living?
Matthew flipped through the brochure again. A new section had been added—newly mined, unprocessed stones. Some were rough, unpolished, and barely shaped. The notes beside each image said they had been scanned using advanced spectrometry. The results hinted at something valuable inside, raw gems, rare metals, and sometimes even meteorite fragments. But the scans couldn't determine size or quality.
Still, that was the point. It was a gamble.
Argent leaned closer. "Good eye," he said. "A lot of valuable stuff tonight. Those rocks? They're not random. They've already been checked. They wouldn't be here if there was nothing inside."
Matthew looked at the images again.
"They won't tell you how big the good part is," Argent continued. "That's where the game comes in. Could be a small shard. Could be a full core. Businessmen love this. Some guy once pulled a fist-sized blue diamond out of a rock that looked like trash."
Matthew turned the page again, but before he could read further, a woman's voice interrupted them.
Two women stood beside their booth. Both were wearing dark, form-fitting clothing—similar to what belly dancers might wear, but stripped of any decorations that made sound.
Their outfits clung to their figures, exposing their shoulders and stomachs, and the veils covering the lower halves of their faces added to the effect.
One had long blond hair tied into a thick braid, the other a deep brown, pulled into a high ponytail.
"Would you like something to drink?" the brunette asked.
Argent cleared his throat. "Absolutely. Sit here. Pour it next to me."
The blond moved toward him, already holding a bottle and glass. She leaned in and poured slowly. Argent adjusted himself in his seat and gestured toward the empty space beside him.
Matthew shook his head. "I'm not feeling that great today."
The brunette nodded politely and stepped aside.
"He's fine," Argent said to them. "It's his first time here. Give him a moment. Come… come… come… sit beside me."
The two women sat down beside Argent, one on his left, the other on his right. He placed a hand around each of their waists without hesitation.
"Anyway," he said, returning to their earlier conversation, "I got a tip. That rock from Italy? Supposed to be insane. Rumors say there's a red opal inside. Could go for six figures easy. And the one from Romania, they think it might be housing a crystallized form of some meteorite alloy."
Before Matthew could respond, a voice came from behind them.
"Argent, stop scamming the new bloods," the man said. "And quit giving tips when you've never won anything decent yourself."
Matthew turned his head toward the voice.
A man in a black mask trimmed with gold stood behind their booth. He didn't look at Matthew. His focus was entirely on Argent.
"Stop scamming the new bloods," the man said. "Keep it up, and I'll report you."
Argent raised both hands slightly. "I'm not scamming anyone. I really did hear something about the stones from Italy and Romania."
The masked man snorted and stepped forward.
He walked past them and tapped Matthew once on the shoulder. "Don't trust anyone in this place. If you do, you'll end up dead."
Matthew didn't reply. He just watched as the man continued walking toward one of the private booths farther along the wall.
He got up and followed him without a word.
"Duke!" Argent called out from behind. "You're still rude. That's why you don't have friends."
Matthew's brow pulled slightly. Duke.
He knew that name.
In his past life, Duke had always stayed close to Lenox. Quiet, sharp, and unshakably loyal. If Lenox gave the order, Duke followed it. No hesitation. No questions. They weren't friends—far from it—but Matthew remembered exactly what kind of person Duke was.
He narrowed his eyes.
But now, something else caught his attention.
Someone was walking behind Duke. A woman.
She wasn't wearing a mask. She wasn't part of the staff. She wasn't even alive.
The woman trailing behind Duke moved like she was still alive. Her posture was straight, her gaze forward. She wore layered robes of dark red and muted black, tightly belted at the waist. Her sleeves were wide, and a pair of ornate plated guards covered her shoulders. Her hair was tied in a topknot, with long strands framing her face.
She looked like a general. Not from this time—but from feudal Japan or Korea or even china.
Why is she dressed like that? Matthew thought. His pulse picked up.
He blinked, expecting her to disappear like most ghosts eventually did.
But she didn't.
Instead, she stopped.
Then she slowly turned.
Almost immediately, her gaze met his.
Matthew froze. Luckily, Argent immediately called his attention.
"Hey! You should stop paying attention to that man. He has named himself Duke. A rude one, but he's been here a few years before me, so he already knows a lot of people."
"Duke's ruthless," Argent said, leaning back. "He acts like he's doing you a favor every time he speaks. But I heard he comes from money. Old money. Might even own a piece of this market."
Matthew looked in the direction Duke had gone. The man had already vanished into one of the private booths.
Argent continued. "That's why people don't mess with him. He's got pull outside. Connections, influence—probably the kind that doesn't get written down. He's not just some regular bidder."
Matthew nodded slowly.
In his past life, Duke had always been there. Always beside Lenox. Matthew never knew how they met, but he remembered what Lenox once said—that Duke owed him his life. Saved him from something, and from that point on, Duke followed him without question. That loyalty had turned deadly more than once.
"Still," Argent added. "He wasn't wrong."
Matthew turned back toward him.
"This place follows rules, yeah," Argent said. "We're all VIPs. We get codes, seats, benefits. But when things go bad? The market will protect itself first. You understand what I mean?"
Matthew stared at him for a moment, then gave a quiet nod.
He understood.
Without warning, the lights overhead dimmed.
Conversations lowered as silence fell over the room.
Then the stage at the center shifted. The platform groaned slightly as the floor split apart in a clean circular line. A section lowered mechanically, revealing a dark space beneath. For a few seconds, there was only silence.
Then a platform began to rise from below.
At its center stood a man in a fitted black suit, holding a small clipboard. His face was completely hidden by a metallic mask, smooth and featureless except for a single slit across the eyes.
He didn't speak right away. He let the platform rise to full height before stepping forward. The circular lights surrounding the stage flickered once and then stabilized, casting a pale glow across the man and the immediate area around him.
Argent nudged Matthew with his elbow. "That's the host," he whispered. "Once he starts talking, the first item's coming out."