"It's worth even less now. If it were a medicinal pill, it could at least be sold to a research facility for research," Edna said with a smirk.
The other people also felt like the little sphere in Yolanda's hand looked like a normal glass bead. The color didn't look great, and it didn't seem to cost anything.
"This is…a martyr's relic!"
Suddenly, a frail old man with white hair who was hunched over walked closer to Yolanda from the crowd gathered around.
The commotion Harold created had attracted many passersby to watch the scene unfold, causing the shop to be tightly packed with people.
The old man wobbled unsteadily with a cane and made his way to Yolanda. He repeated emotionally, "Little lady, could you please let me take a look at the thing you have in your hand?"
"What? A martyr's relic?"
Edna and the rest were shocked, and then a look of contempt appeared on their faces.
Was this a joke? How did a martyr's relic end up in an 18th-century rococo snuff box?
However, that old man was so overwhelmed with emotions that his face was flushed. He took out a magnifying glass and looked closely at the opal-colored bead Yolanda had passed to him. "This is a martyr's relic, I'm certain of this!"
"How's this possible?"
The old man's words had caused an uproar in the crowd.
"He must be mistaken!"
"How could that be a martyr's relic?"
"Shut up! That's Mr. Jose Guzman, Havaria's famous cultural relic appraiser!"
Jose was accompanied by two bodyguards, who had also made their way from the crowd.
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