Intergalactic conquest with an AI-Chapter 340: Blood Clan world. {6}

The air became thick and suffocating, as if the very atmosphere had been tainted with something predatory and ancient. Every instinct in Rex's body screamed at him with an unfamiliar sensation he hadn't felt in years.

The auctioneer girl, who had been confidently presenting the items, suddenly paused. Without explanation, she bowed and swiftly exited the stage. A moment later, an older man took her place.

His presence alone sent a cold shiver down Rex's spine.

This wasn't just some noble or high-ranking blood clan official. The sheer weight of his aura was dense, bloodthirsty, and overwhelming, pressing down on the entire room.

It was as if the walls themselves recoiled from his existence. The low murmurs of the audience ceased instantly, replaced by an eerie, collective silence.

For the first time in years, Rex felt his body instinctively react. His muscles tensed, his breath hitched, and his hands curled into fists before he even realized it.

A sharp alarm rang through his mental link.

{Boss! Be careful! That's a Tier 7 powerhouse!} Mini Cleo's voice rang in his head, urgency laced in every syllable.

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A holographic power scan appeared before him, highlighting the man's energy signature in a glowing crimson. Tier 7. A level of strength so far above his own that it wasn't even a comparison.

This wasn't someone who fought opponents; this was someone who eradicated them.

Rex didn't need to be told twice. He remained still, his expression carefully neutral, but inside, his mind raced with many paths to escape.

{What the hell is a monster like that doing here?} Just as Rex thought that, the old man coughed.

The old man let his piercing gaze sweep across the silent auction hall, his presence alone commanding absolute attention. There was no need for theatrics since his sheer existence was enough to instill fear and respect in the audience.

"Well then," he began speaking; his voice sounded like the slow rumble of an impending storm. "As you all know, when it comes to the trading of criminals from the blood clan, a Patriarch of one of the great families oversees the auction."

His lips curled into a chilling smirk. "Tonight, it is my turn." A heavy, anticipatory silence filled the room.

The old man took deliberate steps forward, his boots clicking against the wooden platform. As he did, mechanical whirring filled the air. Suddenly, four square sections of the floor opened with a metallic hiss, revealing deep, dark pits beneath.

A moment later, massive cages with thick bars reinforced with energy suppressors began to rise from the depths.

Inside them stood four captives.

They were blood clan members, their crimson eyes burning with silent fury. Though restrained, the deadly aura they radiated was unmistakable. Even in captivity, they carried themselves like predators.

"This is the first round of goods," the old man announced, his voice laced with amusement. "Tier 4 clan members. The bidding starts at four million credits per bid!"

The moment the words left his mouth, the hall erupted into a flurry of voices.

Powerful figures, corporate envoys, and crime lords all began aggressively raising their bids. And it was no surprise. These weren't just any captives; they were blood clan assassins.

The best killers in the galaxy. Even though they were currently Tier 4, it was only a matter of time before they advanced to Tier 6, maybe even higher. To those who understood their worth, these warriors weren't just slaves... they were investments.

And, of course, their physical appeal only added to their value.

The women among them possessed an almost supernatural beauty, an allure that was both predatory and intoxicating. But more than that, what made them so highly sought-after was the slave blood mark, a brutal ritual that ensured absolute loyalty.

Unlike regular mercenaries or bodyguards, these warriors could never betray their owners. Once marked, they were bound to serve until death.

There was no other place in the galaxy where one could buy a perfectly obedient and devastatingly lethal dog.

Rex observed it all with mild disinterest while resting his head on his fist as he lounged back in his chair. The scene unfolding before him was predictable... ruthless billionaires and warlords throwing absurd amounts of credits at the auction, eager to outbid one another.

{Where's the girl you told me to buy, Mini Cleo?} he asked lazily through their mental link.

Mini Cleo, who had been reclining on a holographic beach chair with oversized sunglasses on, responded with a relaxed wave of her tiny digital hand. {She'll come out after the two Tier 5 slaves, so chill, boss~ No need to stress yet!}

Rex sighed but didn't press further. And so, the auction continued.

For two long, grueling hours, more captives were paraded onto the stage, each bid war more intense than the last. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier with each sale, the hunger in the bidders eyes turning more feral.

Then, finally, the moment arrived.

The old man's smirk widened as he stepped forward once again, spreading his arms. "Well then, dear customers!" His voice boomed across the hall, laced with an unmistakable excitement.

"I don't even need to announce what the main dish of tonight's event is, do I? I'm certain you all already know."

A murmur of anticipation rippled through the audience. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a blade.

The old man chuckled darkly. "So then... let's bring it up!"

With another mechanical hum, the platform shifted once more. But this time, only a single section of the floor opened; it was far larger than before.

From the depths below, an enormous black cage slowly emerged, its bars humming with suppression energy. It wasn't just any cage; it was a containment unit, the kind designed to hold high-tier combatants.

And inside it, standing in eerie silence, was a woman.

A blood clan warrior.

She didn't look like the others who had been auctioned off earlier. There was no fear in her expression, no desperation. Instead, her crimson eyes burned with cold resignation.

Even bound, even weakened, she exuded a terrifying presence, one that sent an instinctive shiver down Rex's spine.

Mini Cleo's voice crackled urgently in his mind.

{Boss, that's her! The Tier 6 powerhouse I told you about!} Rex narrowed his eyes as he studied the woman in the cage..

The old patriarch's voice resonated through the hall, smooth yet commanding, carrying the weight of absolute authority.

"As you all know, Tier 6 slaves are not to be sold for mere credits. Their value transcends monetary exchange, and a public bidding war could spark unnecessary bloodshed.

"Instead, we shall conduct an item-for-item trade. You may submit your offers through the datapads provided at your seats."

He leaned back, his cold gaze sweeping across the eager bidders. "I will personally evaluate each submission and select the one that most interests me. Now then... let the bidding begin!"

A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd as the bidders hastily tapped away on their datapads, each submitting an offer they believed would secure them the prized warrior.

The old patriarch, maintaining a facade of leisure, settled into the ornate chair that his servants had brought for him. Yet, his fingers moved with purpose as he accessed the incoming offers.

Meanwhile, Rex let out a sigh while watching the event unfold with mild amusement.

"Well… there goes the sure way to get her," he muttered while drumming his fingers against the armrest. "If we can't use credits, what else do we have to bid with?"

His sharp gaze flicked toward Mini Cleo, who stiffened under his scrutiny.

{W-wait, Boss!} she stammered, her tiny holographic form scrambling to hide behind the datapad. {I'm not for sale! I'm your brain, remember?!}

Rex let out a low chuckle. "Hah! Relax, I'm just messing with you. Don't be so dramatic." He smirked, his fingers hovering over the datapad as he pondered for a brief moment.

"Besides… I do have something better than anything these greedy bastards could offer." With a confident flick of his wrist, he submitted his bid.

Then, he leaned back with his expression hidden beneath the shadow of his black coat and waited.

And just as he predicted... the reaction was priceless.

The old patriarch, who had remained composed up until now, suddenly jolted forward. His eyes widened as he stared at the offer displayed on his screen. His hands tightened around the datapad, and for a moment, silence hung heavy in the air.

Then, in a blur of motion, he leapt out of his chair.

The movement was so abrupt that the entire auction hall froze. Even the most hardened bidders, men who had seen the horrors of war and the depths of galactic cruelty, stiffened in confusion. Murmurs of uncertainty rippled through the audience.

Ignoring them all, the patriarch's gaze darted across the room, scanning each chair number until his eyes locked onto Rex's seat.

The old man's expression twisted into something unreadable, somewhere between disbelief and manic excitement. His fingers danced across his arm device, and without a single word, he opened a space crack and vanished.

The hall fell into stunned silence.

Rex merely tilted his head slightly, watching the event unfold. "So… I hit the jackpot, huh?"

Before the confused audience could descend into chaos, the auction hostess stepped forward with practiced grace. Flashing a well-rehearsed smile, she cleared her throat and spoke in a soothing tone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please do not be alarmed. The patriarch has been called away for urgent business, but rest assured, the auction will proceed smoothly in his absence!"

Her words did little to ease the growing tension, but no one dared challenge them.