The moment the hammer fell, Xavier leaned back in his chair, but his eyes were still locked on the fading hologram of the fragment like it might vanish forever if he blinked. His fingers drummed restlessly on the armrest, every nerve in him screaming to move.

"Fuck it," he muttered, half to himself, half to the others. "I can't let that bastard just walk out with it. We can still—"

Angel's voice cut in sharp, calm as a blade. "No."

Xavier turned, brow arched. "What do you mean 'no'?"

She didn't flinch. "You're in the Underworld's house, Xavier. Their jurisdiction. Their rules. You make one wrong move here, and it won't just be you—everyone tied to you is finished. They'll cut you down before you even reach the exit."

Lyra raised a brow, smirking faintly. "She's right, y'know. I'd rather not get turned into wolf stew because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants for some shiny crystal."

"Lyra," Xavier growled, but the irritation wasn't at her—it was the gnawing pull in his chest. His heartbeat was still irregular, like the fragment was still calling out to him.

Viola stretched lazily in her chair, lips curling. "He's obsessed. Can't even hide it."

Angel leaned forward, her eyes locking with his, steady and unshakable. "Listen to me. If you try to move here, you'll lose everything you've built. That fragment will vanish, and so will you. If you really want it—" her tone softened just a fraction, "—then when this auction is over, I'll trace Victor. I'll dig until I find him, his ship, his vault, whatever hole he crawls into. Then, and only then, do you make your move."

The room fell quiet, save for the muffled excitement of the auction continuing outside. Xavier sat there, jaw clenched, trying to breathe past the pounding in his chest.

Lyra popped a grape into her mouth and chewed slowly, tail swaying behind her. "See? The smartest one in the room's telling you to chill. For once, maybe listen."

Xavier's lips curved into a thin smile, sharp and dangerous, though his eyes still burned. "Fine. I'll wait. But that fragment is mine. One way or another."

Angel leaned back, satisfied. "Good. Then we'll play the long game."

Viola chuckled darkly. "That's more like it. Let him hold it for now. I wanna see the look on his face when we take it later."

Xavier exhaled through his nose, gaze flicking back to the empty hologram platform. He let the obsession simmer, but barely. But inside, he was already planning. Already imagining the day Victor's smug hand lost its grip on the fragment.

The auction rolled on. One item after another paraded across the platform—ancient coins from forgotten dynasties, crystalline weapons that pulsed faintly like they were alive, ornate jewelry imbued with weak enchantments, star maps etched on metal slates that collectors drooled over. Each piece went up, sparks of excitement rising and falling as the bidding continued.

Hours slipped past in the muffled thunder of voices and flashing numbers. The crowd never lost its edge, though the frenzy had dimmed since the big wars earlier. Xavier sat back, expression unreadable, watching as the final few lots were sold off.

When the lights shifted and the announcer finally declared the auction closed, the room seemed to exhale as one.

Angel turned her head toward him, studying his face. "Well? Did you enjoy yourself?"

Xavier dragged in a long breath, then let it out, sounding almost like a sigh. His eyes were half-lidded, his tone flat. "Enjoy? It wasn't any better than spending the night on my bed. At least then I'd have gotten some proper rest." He paused, lips twitching in faint irony. "But… I did get a weapon worth keeping. And maybe, just maybe, I found another fragment. Or something close to it."

Lyra, perched on the couch with her plate still half-full, leaned in. "So what now? Are we heading home?"

Xavier nodded once. "Yeah. That's the plan."

But Angel shook her head slightly, eyes narrowing in that calm way she always did before dropping something. "Not exactly. There's a VIP-only after party. Private, restricted. You've got an invitation, Xavier. Your items pulled billions into this auction. They want you there."

He leaned back, unimpressed. "Not interested."

Angel didn't blink. "You should be. It's not about drinks and dancing—it's where the real connections are made. Where the ones who matter loosen their masks. You want information, leverage, access to things you won't see on display? That's the place."

Viola smirked faintly, playing with her glass. "Sounds like fun to me. Dangerous fun."

Xavier sighed again, heavier this time, but his eyes flicked toward Angel. She wasn't going to let it go, and she wasn't wrong either. "Tch. Fine. You win. We'll go see this after party of yours."

Angel's lips curved, not quite a smile, but close. "Good. You won't regret it."

Xavier ignored her, standing and stretching, loosening his shoulders after hours of sitting still. Lyra's eyes followed him and she grinned. "So, what do we even wear to this after party? Same suits and dresses? Or are we supposed to walk in naked so everyone can stare properly?"

Viola snorted. "Don't tempt him."

Xavier cracked the faintest grin but didn't answer. Instead, he adjusted his cufflinks, slid his jacket back on, and looked at the three of them. "Let's just get this over with."

A soft knock came at the door. Not the auction staff this time, but the driver. Their ride had arrived.

They stepped out together, descending into the neon-lit underworld street where a sleek black luxury van waited, its surface gleaming like it had been polished just to spite the dust outside. The door slid open with a hush, revealing the plush interior—and someone already inside.

Jason sat casually in one of the seats, a drink in hand, mask gone. He lifted his eyes as they entered, lips curving with that same cocky edge. "Well, well. Looks like you survived the lame and boring auction."

"Tell me about it. I thought I was gonna die." Xavier's expression didn't shift. He climbed in, taking the seat across from Jason. Angel, Lyra, and Viola slid in beside him, the door closing with a soft click that sealed them off from the noise outside.

"But I promise you," Jason raised his glass. "The after party won't disappoint you."

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