Yunli's fingers moved only once, smooth and quick motion.
The small vial slipped between her fingertips, its contents dissolving into Mahito's drink with barely a ripple. For a brief second she felt the weight of dozens of eyes around the hall—even though none of them were truly looking at her.
Mahito finally turned.
He lifted the glass without hurry.
The amber liquid caught the light as he studied it for a moment with a calm expression.
Then he gently shook the glass, swirling the drink as if testing the aroma of a fine whiskey.
Without drinking it, he handed the glass to the man seated beside him.
The man accepted it without question.
He too gave the glass a small swirl before passing it to another.
Then another.
Each of Mahito's men repeated the same motion in quiet succession. The ritual seemed meaningless to anyone observing from afar—merely a group sharing a drink in the middle of an auction.
But Yunli watched closely nervous about what they were all up to, at least from most of the Asian culture she knew this was something not like that.
Every man tilted the glass slightly, letting a few drops run along the rim before passing it along.
By the time the drink returned to Mahito, the liquid inside had lost most of its original color.
It now looked thin… diluted… almost like water.
Mahito stared at it briefly.
Then carelessly, almost absentmindedly allowed his hand slipped.
The glass tipped.
The drink spilled across the marble floor.
Several guests glanced down for a moment before returning their attention to the stage.
But Mahito's men were already looking.
The puddle spread quietly along the polished stone.
Yunli's eyes widened slightly.
There was no trace of the shattered recorder fragments she had hidden earlier beneath the table.
No ink.
No metal pieces.
Nothing but water.
Mahito gave the faintest nod.
Satisfied like a magician proud of his magic trick.
He lifted one finger slightly toward one of his men.
"Another drink."
The man immediately raised a hand toward a nearby attendant.
Mahito then shifted his gaze toward Yunli.
For the first time since she had arrived, their eyes met directly.
He made a subtle motion with his fingers indicating that she leave at the moment.
Yunli understood immediately.
She lowered her gaze and gave a small, professional bow before stepping away from his table, her tray balanced steadily in her hands as she moved deeper into the crowd of guests.
Across the hall, Tess's scanning device blinked again.
She frowned.
"That's strange."
Raphael glanced sideways.
"What?"
"The signal we detected," she murmured quietly. "It just disappeared."
She adjusted the scanner again, tracking the origin point carefully.
The signal path traced across the hall starting with the ceiling towards the outer wall then stopped.
A blank point.
Nothing beyond it.
"It leads to a wall," Tess said under her breath. "Just a wall."
Raphael's eyes narrowed slightly.
He tapped his watch again before giving a small nod.
"Inform the others."
Tess stepped back and quietly relayed the message through her communication channel.
Moments later, security personnel around the hall subtly repositioned themselves without drawing the attention of the guests.
Just a slightly tighter perimeter forming quietly around the event.
Guests hardly noticed.
Meanwhile Yunli continued her work.
She moved between tables again, pouring drinks and offering trays as though nothing unusual had happened.
When she passed Mahito's table once more, she paused briefly and gave a respectful bow.
Mahito did not speak.
He simply grinned faintly.
Then his gaze drifted back toward the stage.
The bidding war before long had escalated as the room had grown louder.
Voices were rising while paddles lifting with numbers climbing.
"Seventy million."
"Seventy-five."
"Eighty!"
The sleek rifle set gleamed under the lights as assistants rotated the case slowly for the audience.
Five weapons.
Five masterpieces of controlled destruction.
At the center table, a man suddenly rose to his feet.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
His voice carried across the hall.
"One hundred million."
The crowd shifted.
All eyes turned.
Several people immediately recognized him.
The man lowered his bidding card deliberately, his expression fierce and determined.
"Dicoviche."
The moment hung in the air.
He had finally revealed himself.
Stephenson leaned toward Alois with a low whistle.
"Well now…"
Alois chuckled softly.
"So the rumors were true."
"Truly indeed he has more than one life" some Egyptians murmured.
On stage, Ian smiled behind the reflection of his glasses.
The auction had just become far more interesting.