Devta Bhakt System: Rise of the Protector
Chapter 10: " 4-Star Masterpieces! From Zero to Eight Billion in a Single Deal "
The noise died. Suraj's voice, though very low, echoed in every corner of the room.
"Do not fight amongst yourselves. There is no point in wasting energy."
Suraj paused, looking at Babar Wang and then at the frantic crowd.
That mysterious 'Clever Fox' smile returned to his face.
"If you all desire a 4 - Star painting... then I shall make a 4 - Star painting for every single one of you."
The entire hall turned to stone.
The precious cane slipped from Hall Master Babar Wang's hand, clattering to the floor. His eyes were wide with shock.
A single thought echoed in his mind: "For everyone? 4-Star? Is this boy a god, or is he playing with us? It takes months of mental discipline to create one 4-Star painting, and he's handing them out like water!"
Suraj calmly set the first painting aside and placed a fresh sheet of paper on the stand.
Outside the Painting Hall, the sun was still shining, but inside, a new sun had risen—Suraj, the man who had rewritten the laws of cultivation and art forever.
The silence inside the Painting Hall was so profound that the heartbeats of the gathered crowd could be heard.
Hall Master Babar Wang stood frozen like a stone statue. Before him stood a young man who had just defied the laws of nature.
Suraj gently picked up his first 4 - Star painting— the living masterpiece from which birds of light had just emerged and merged back into the paper — and carefully set it aside.
The touch of his fingers on the parchment was as tender as a father caressing his firstborn child.
"Next," the single word escaped Suraj's throat, echoing through the hall like a royal decree.
He picked up a fresh, blank, and ordinary sheet of paper and mounted it on the stand. The assistant didn't dare step forward to help. He merely watched with trembling hands.
Suraj picked up his brush. This time, his eyes lacked the glint of the 'Clever Fox'; instead, they held a depth resembling a tranquil ocean.
He began to channel his internal energy (Qi) through his fingers down to the tip of the brush.
First, second, and third paintings... In the initial few pieces, Suraj's speed was like lightning. He painted a scene of roaring clouds for one, and blooming lotuses in a serene lake for another.
With every brushstroke, the energy inside the hall seemed to dance. The moment a painting was completed, a faint golden aura would emanate from it — ' 3 - Star ! ' And then, with one final, magical touch from Suraj, it would transform into a ' 4 - Star ' grade.
The crowd was mesmerized. People forgot to blink. Karan, who was standing right next to him, could see tiny beads of sweat forming on Suraj's forehead.
Seventh, eighth, and ninth paintings... As time passed, Suraj's pace began to slow.
Creating a 4-Star painting was no child's play; it demanded a piece of the artist's soul.
Suraj felt a slight strain in his chest. The 'Devta Bhakt System' was granting him knowledge, but his current physical body had not yet reached the cultivation heights required to generate infinite energy without fatigue.
He took a deep breath. The 'Internal Fire' within him was burning fiercely. He discarded the thought of stopping.
He knew that if he didn't push past his limits today, he would remain nothing more than a 'fluke' in the eyes of this city's elites. He had to establish his absolute dominance.
Twelfth to fifteenth paintings... The evening dusk had begun to settle inside the hall. Suraj's face was turning pale. His hands trembled slightly, but the rhythm of his brush never broke. Now, he was working on the final piece—the sixteenth.
This painting was entirely different. In it, he drew a colossal Banyan tree, its roots reaching the underworld and its branches touching the heavens. The moment the final dot was placed, a gust of cold wind swept through the entire hall.
"Sixteen," Suraj said in a very low voice. He put the brush down. His lungs gasped for air, and for a fleeting second, his vision went dark. But he refused to let himself fall. He clenched his right fist and straightened his spine. Discipline ran through his veins.
The assistant and the Hall Master stepped forward. Their eyes now held more terror than greed. Was this boy human or a God of Art?
One by one, sixteen people stepped forward. They were the most influential figures in the city. Heavy silk pouches were placed on the table. The clinking of gold coins, a sound that could drive any mortal mad, echoed in the room.
The price of each painting—5,000 gold coins.
Total: Eighty thousand (80,000) gold coins.
Suraj touched the old ring he wore on his finger. The crowd assumed the coins were being transferred into the spatial ring, but inside Suraj's mind, the 'System' interface was flashing brilliantly.
[Ding!]
[Eighty thousand gold coins received. 100,000x Return System Activated!]
[Congratulations Host! You have received: 8,000,000,000 (Eight Billion) Gold Coins!]
For a moment, dead silence fell over Suraj's mind.
Eight billion ! Enough wealth to buy ten cities like this one. His exhaustion seemingly vanished for a split second.
He turned and began walking toward the main doors of the hall. From behind, Hall Master Babar Wang's trembling voice called out.
" Wait... Your Excellency ! " Wang bowed deeply in greeting.
"Your masterpieces still require the official seal of the Hall. This seal is not just a stamp; it is a certificate of your rank and honor in this world. Without it, high-ranking imperial officials might deem them forgeries."
Suraj stopped. He looked at Wang with his 'Clever Fox' gaze.
"I do not wish to reveal my identity."
"A name is not required, Sir,"
Wang quickly assured him. " We will assign you a unique identification number.
Just tell us your auspicious name, and it will remain strictly confidential in our records."
"Suraj," he replied briefly.
"Very well, Master Suraj. By tomorrow morning, your official seal and rank certificate will be ready.
You may collect it anytime."
Suraj simply nodded once and gestured to Karan. Both walked out.
The moment he sat in the carriage, Suraj closed his eyes. His body was finally giving way. The imbalance of internal energy was shaking him from the inside. Karan sat beside him, watching him closely.
In his hands, he held the very first painting Suraj had created.
"Brother Suraj... are you alright?" Karan asked in a hushed tone. "You... don't look too well."
Suraj didn't open his eyes. "It's just fatigue, Karan. Focus on your painting; its energy will keep you safe."
The carriage was now heading towards the part of the city where the lights were brighter and the noise was louder.
The 'Auction House'.
Suraj realized that the ring in his pocket was no longer just a piece of metal; it was the key to the most powerful vault in the world.
"Karan," Suraj said suddenly, his voice far more serious than before. "At an auction, the most dangerous people aren't the ones shouting to show off their wealth."
Karan looked startled.
" Then who ? "
Suraj looked out the window, where the towering spire of the Auction House was coming into view. "Those... who remain entirely silent in the crowd, but when they finally raise their hand, they snatch Destiny itself into their grasp."
Another warning flashed in Suraj's mind from the System:
[WARNING: Energy Imbalance. Avoid any major confrontations for the next 12 hours.]
A faint smile touched Suraj's lips. He thought to himself, " 12 hours ? The hunters in this city might not give me that much time."
The first bell of the Auction House had already rung. Amidst the bustling crowd of the market, this 'billionaire' hidden in a black cloak was now ready to make his next move.
The road outside the Auction Hall was a world apart from the rest of the city.
This wasn't a marketplace for commoners to haggle over vegetables or cloth. Here, there was no noise, no bargaining. Instead, an invisible, heavy pressure hung in the air, enough to stifle the breath of the weak-hearted.
It felt as if even the wind here first decided who was worthy of entering and who should be forced to stop right there, at the foot of the wide red stairs.
These crimson stone steps led directly to a massive gate crafted from iron and ancient wood. Engraved in pure gold above the entrance were the words — 'Grand Auction Hall.' These letters didn't just glow; looking at them sparked two primal emotions simultaneously: the 'greed' for immense wealth and the 'dread' of losing it.
A line of guards stood flanking the gate. These weren't ordinary city soldiers. Their bodies were encased in heavy, black iron armor etched with defensive runes.
Their eyes were as fixed and sharp as a hawk's. Their faces bore that cold, expressionless look found only in those granted the ultimate authority — the right to question your status, and if found wanting, the right to erase your existence.
As soon as the carriage halted, Karan was the first to step out. His attire was simple today, but his gait held that natural arrogance and confidence nurtured only within the walls of prestigious clans like the Malhotras.
The guards cast a cursory glance at Karan. Their rigid posture softened instantly. One of them bowed respectfully and cleared the path, saying, "Welcome, Young Master Malhotra. Please, enter."
Karan didn't offer a reply. He merely tilted his chin up and walked forward. This was his daily reality.
However, just as Suraj — hidden beneath his black cloak — set his first foot on the stairs —
" CLANG ! "
Two heavy, silver-tipped spears sliced through the air, crossing in an 'X' right before Suraj's chest. The cold metal tips were barely an inch away from his cloak.
Behind the spears, the guard's eyes were filled with suspicion and warning. His gaze demanded — 'What is your worth ? '
" Stop ! " the guard's voice was as hard as iron striking stone. " No stranger enters without identification. Lower your hood and state your identity."
Suraj stopped right there. He didn't look at the spears; he looked directly into the guard's eyes. Within the darkness of that black hood, a faint, almost invisible smile played on Suraj's lips.
"I am Suraj," he said in a voice so simple and calm it felt like a breeze. There was no pride in his tone, nor a hint of a plea.
It was just a fact he had released into the air.
The guards looked at each other, mockery flashing in their eyes.
To them, the name was as foreign as a beggar's. No noble or renowned cultivator in this city bore the name ' Suraj.'
" Suraj ? " the second guard sneered, thrusting his spear an inch closer. "Are you here to play a joke?
This isn't a charity house. If you don't have a VIP token or an invitation from a Great House, get lost, before this spear finds its way through that pathetic cloak of yours."
Having climbed a few steps, Karan turned back and saw the scene. His heart skipped a beat. Panic flared in his mind — " My God ! These foolish guards! If they only knew who they were stopping — a man with eight billion gold coins who can create 4 - Star paintings in a heartbeat... they'd be weeping on their knees ! "
Karan began rushing back down to intervene. But before he could speak, and before Suraj's 'invisible energy' could erupt —
" MOVE."
A single word echoed across the stairs. It wasn't loud, and there was no scream. It was a woman's voice—clear, cold, and utterly terrifying.
There was an authority in that command so absolute that to ignore it would mean the very blood in one's veins might freeze.
With his 'Clever Fox' instinct, Suraj slowly turned his head.
Cutting through the crowd, a woman was approaching the stairs. She looked to be in her mid-twenties.
Her stature was perfectly balanced, her walk possessing a strange grace mixed with calculated cruelty — the gait of someone who had spent half their life dancing with death.
She too wore a deep purple cloak that fluttered in the light evening breeze. Beneath the hood, half of her face was visible — lips as red as cherries, a perfectly shaped nose, but her eyes were the most lethal.
There was no peace or mercy in them; only a deep, crawling ' poison.'
Suraj's gaze measured her from head to toe, finally locking onto a badge pinned to the left side of her chest.