The 24th Century Warrior Became a Fake Heiress novel Chapter 356
Chapter 356 A Crushing Bid
Besides, this was merely bidding on an antique curiosity.
78%
Finished
The raw obsidian meteorite was rather unremarkable, looking like nothing more than a dull black rock.
Though the auction house claimed it carried unique magnetic properties, nobody kept a diagnostic scanner around to boast to visiting guests about how mystical their stone was.
Consequently, few in the room held genuine interest in the obsidian.
Once the price climbed past three hundred million dollars, virtually all other bidders dropped
out.
Preston stood alone, smiling with supreme confidence, already viewing the meteorite specimen as his prize.
Out of nowhere, Isabella stepped in, cutting right ahead of him.
A five–hundred–million–dollar bid?
Was this person out of their mind?
It carried no proven historical provenance, and though touted as a natural talisman consecrated by ancient abbeys and medieval royalty, who knew if the catalog was just blowing smoke?
Thus, Preston’s three–hundred–million offer was already an astronomical sum.
Had he not commanded foreign capital and vast institutional wealth, he never would have offered so much for a natural stone.
Yet someone had brazenly emerged to outbid him.
Fury flared instantly in Preston’s chest.
He cast a sharp, frigid glare toward the origin of the bid–a secluded cubicle tucked in the rear tier.
Clearly, this guest was a last–minute walk–in.
Regular patrons who knew the salon’s ins and outs reserved prime booths in advance, never settling for such a remote alcove.
Preston’s expression chilled as he forced down the boiling rage.
This was not an ordinary auction floor; throwing around political muscle to intimidate rivals was strictly barred.
1/3
10:30 Fri, 11 Sep 0
Chapter 356 A Crushing Bid
+78%
Finished
Using his syndicate’s weight to bully the bidder into folding was theoretically possible, but doing so would get him permanently blacklisted from this underground salon.
Which meant being quietly ostracized from a premier circle of influence.
Worse still, if word got out, peers would whisper that he was a sore loser.
Preston could not afford that kind of public humiliation.
Drawing several deep breaths, he forcibly smothered the irritation in his chest.
He sneered in thought, writing off the rival as some nouveau–riche fool with more money than sense, squandering a fortune on a crude black boulder, so he refused to lower himself to their level.
Comforted by that thought, he closed his eyes and looked away from the obsidian block.
After all, while the meteorite made a fitting birthday tribute for Steven Wayne, it was hardly an irreplaceable necessity.
Selecting an alternative prestige gift was just as easy.
Who would be foolish enough to throw money into the void without a sound, hiking the price by two hundred million just for a raw lump of rock?
Only a lunatic would keep chasing the bid, since he had no reason to burn cash for sport.
Why bother stooping to compete with fools?
Besides, who could say whether this bidder was a shill hired by the house?
In truth, Preston knew deep down that a house plant was unlikely.
A shill bumped prices by modest increments, whereas an aggressive leap of this magnitude was never the work of a plant.
Yet that reality only made him angrier.
Because on the field of pure wealth, someone had soundly crushed him.
He had assumed nobody else possessed the audacity to throw that much money at a rock.
D*mn it!
Bitter frustration burned in Preston’s chest, leaving his cheeks stinging with embarrassment.
Thank heaven he had not sent his attendant to collect the piece early, or the disgrace would have been unbearable.
2/3
10:30 Fri, 11 Sep O
A Superpowered Warrior in a Fake Heiress’s Body
Chapter 356 A Crushing Bid
Besides, this was merely bidding on an antique curiosity.
78%
Finished
The raw obsidian meteorite was rather unremarkable, looking like nothing more than a dull black rock.
Though the auction house claimed it carried unique magnetic properties, nobody kept a diagnostic scanner around to boast to visiting guests about how mystical their stone was.
Consequently, few in the room held genuine interest in the obsidian.
Once the price climbed past three hundred million dollars, virtually all other bidders dropped
out.
Preston stood alone, smiling with supreme confidence, already viewing the meteorite specimen as his prize.
Out of nowhere, Isabella stepped in, cutting right ahead of him.
A five–hundred–million–dollar bid?
Was this person out of their mind?
It carried no proven historical provenance, and though touted as a natural talisman consecrated by ancient abbeys and medieval royalty, who knew if the catalog was just blowing smoke?
Thus, Preston’s three–hundred–million offer was already an astronomical sum.
Had he not commanded foreign capital and vast institutional wealth, he never would have offered so much for a natural stone.
Yet someone had brazenly emerged to outbid him.
Fury flared instantly in Preston’s chest.
He cast a sharp, frigid glare toward the origin of the bid–a secluded cubicle tucked in the rear tier.
Clearly, this guest was a last–minute walk–in.
Regular patrons who knew the salon’s ins and outs reserved prime booths in advance, never settling for such a remote alcove.
Preston’s expression chilled as he forced down the boiling rage.
This was not an ordinary auction floor; throwing around political muscle to intimidate rivals was strictly barred.
1/3
10:30 Fri, Sep
Chapter 356 A Crushing Bid
78%
Finished
Using his syndicate’s weight to bully the bidder into folding was theoretically possible, but doing so would get him permanently blacklisted from this underground salon.
Which meant being quietly ostracized from a premier circle of influence.
Worse still, if word got out, peers would whisper that he was a sore loser.
Preston could not afford that kind of public humiliation.
Drawing several deep breaths, he forcibly smothered the irritation in his chest.
He sneered in thought, writing off the rival as some nouveau–riche fool with more money than sense, squandering a fortune on a crude black boulder, so he refused to lower himself to their level.
Comforted by that thought, he closed his eyes and looked away from the obsidian block.
After all, while the meteorite made a fitting birthday tribute for Steven Wayne, it was hardly an irreplaceable necessity.
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