Chapter 88: The Fierce Auctioneer

The man blocking Jax’s path wasn’t a bouncer. He was in his early thirties, dressed in a suit that cost more than most people in the Outer City earned in a lifetime. A gold badge on his lapel caught the neon light: Client Relations Manager.

“You work here?” Jax asked, eyeing the badge.

“That I do,” the man said, his smile practiced and predatory. “The surname is Li. And you are?”

“Jax.”

“A pleasure, Mr. Jax. I noticed you’ve been lingering outside for quite some time. Thinking of stepping into paradise?”

Jax nodded, playing along. “Heard good things. Thought I’d take a look.”

Manager Li beamed, sensing fresh meat. “You have excellent taste. The Elysium Lounge has just finished a comprehensive renovation. To celebrate, we’re offering exclusive tiered memberships. Why don’t you come inside, and we can get you set up?”

Jax followed him into the lobby. The air conditioning was icy, smelling of lavender and expensive perfume—a stark contrast to the ozone and rot of the wasteland outside.

Jax wasn’t worried about the cost. His pockets were heavy with Cores. In this economy, hard currency spoke louder than digital credits.

He approached the polished marble counter. Manager Li drummed his fingers on the surface, signaling the receptionist. “Open a new account for this gentleman.”

The girl behind the desk, young and bored, typed a few commands. “Sir, how much would you like to load onto your initial balance?”

Jax paused. “What’s the minimum?”

Manager Li’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a flicker of disdain crossing his eyes before the professional mask slipped back into place. “My friend, look at that suit you’re wearing. The minimum won’t get you the full experience. We’ve just launched the ‘Emperor Package’. For a mere 111,110,000 Credits, you unlock everything.”

Jax nearly choked. “One hundred and eleven million? Are you kidding me?”

“Inflation, my friend,” Li said with a shrug, his tone dripping with condescension. “Credits aren’t what they used to be. Every time an Insect Swarm hits, a new crop of warlords gets rich. If you don’t spend it now, it’ll be worth even less tomorrow. Consider it… an investment in pleasure.”

Jax narrowed his eyes. He had about a hundred million worth of Cores on him, but he wasn’t about to blow his entire fortune just to walk through a door. He was here to extract Elena, not to fund the Helios Syndicate’s retirement plans.

“Pass,” Jax said flatly. “I’m just here to look around. Give me the basic tier.”

The receptionist sighed, clearly disappointed she wouldn’t be getting a commission on a whale. “That’s a one-million Credit annual fee. Just so you know, most VIP areas will be restricted. It comes with a monthly sauna pass.”

She slid a generic plastic card across the counter.

Jax stared at it. One million credits for the nosebleed seats. The currency really has turned to toilet paper.

He paid up—painfully—and took the card.

Inside, The Elysium Lounge was a sensory overload. Bass thumped in his chest, and lights flashed in rhythm with the music. It was a palace of hedonism built on the edge of the apocalypse.

Jax didn’t gawk. In his past life, he’d seen places like this, and worse. He moved through the crowd with purpose, his eyes scanning faces, looking for Elena.

He quickly pieced together the layout from overheard conversations. The Lounge was a nine-story vertical city.

Floors one and two were the “Common Area”—drinking, gambling, baths, and flesh trade. Floors three and four were the “Gold Tier”—ten million annual fee required. Floor five and up? That was for the warlords and the Syndicate elite.

Jax did a quick mental calculation. Elena was stunning, arguably top-tier, but her personality was a fragmentation grenade waiting to go off. She wouldn’t last five minutes in the VIP harem without breaking a warlord’s nose. She had to be in the lower levels.

He headed for the second floor.

The space opened up into a massive indoor lido. The humidity hit him instantly. Men and women frolicked in the turquoise water, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Jax skirted the edge of the pool, dodging drunken patrons.

Suddenly, a figure barreled toward him, head down, walking fast. She was staring at her feet, muttering to herself, completely oblivious to her surroundings.

She was on a collision course with a marble pillar.

Jax reached out, grabbing her arm and jerking her back just before impact.

“Ouch!”

The girl stumbled, looking up with wide, angry eyes.

Jax did a quick assessment. Late twenties. Sharp, intelligent features softened slightly by baby fat. Slender frame, hidden beneath a conservative, buttoned-up uniform that stood out in a sea of bikinis.

Solid 8 out of 10, Jax noted clinically. If she cleaned up.

“Watch where you’re going,” Jax said, releasing her arm. “If I hadn’t grabbed you, you’d be eating through a straw.”

The girl rubbed her arm, glaring at him. “It’s your fault! If you hadn’t grabbed me, I would have swerved in time!”

Jax blinked. “Are you serious? Is this a shakedown?”

The girl scoffed. Her eyes dropped to the cheap membership card still in Jax’s hand. Her expression curdled instantly.

“Another ‘customer,'” she sneered. “Great. Who are you planning to ruin today?”

She turned on her heel to storm off.

Jax stepped in front of her. “Hold up. You’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not here to… participate. I’m looking for someone.”

“Save it,” she snapped. “You’re here, aren’t you? That makes you garbage. Don’t make excuses.”

Jax almost laughed. This girl had fire. It reminded him of Elena, though Elena would have led with a roundhouse kick instead of an insult.

“Look, I’m serious. Do you work here?”

He gestured to her outfit. It was professional. Too professional for the pool deck.

“What do you want?” she asked, her guard still up.

“I’m looking for a girl named Elena. Or maybe she’s using a stage name. Do you know her?”

“A stage name?” The girl rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. “You think you can afford a girl with a ‘stage name’ holding a basic membership card? Get real.”

“Hey,” Jax said, his voice hardening slightly. “I’m asking a polite question. You don’t have to be a porcupine. I’m a paying customer, you know.”

“I don’t work for the Lounge,” she shot back. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

She pushed past him, walking away briskly. As she did, something slipped from her pocket—a laminated ID card.

Jax stooped and picked it up.

[Name: Hazel] [Position: Chief Auctioneer]

“Hazel?” Jax muttered. “An auctioneer?”

That was interesting. He hadn’t seen an auction hall on the directory. If there was an auction, it meant high-value goods. And where there were high-value goods, there was usually information.

He pocketed the card. He needed to know more before he returned it.

He scanned the room and spotted a hostess serving drinks near a cabana. She looked bored and slightly tipsy herself.

Jax slid onto a stool next to her. He flashed a charming smile—the one that didn’t reach his eyes—and ordered a round of the most expensive spirits on the menu.

“Keep them coming,” Jax told her. “And have one yourself. Drinking alone is bad luck.”

The hostess giggled, her resistance crumbling under the weight of free alcohol. Within twenty minutes, her speech was slurring.

“So,” Jax said casually, leaning in. “It’s getting late. Is the main event starting soon? I heard there’s an auction upstairs.”

The hostess blinked blearily, swaying slightly. “Wow, big brother, you know about that? But… hic… look at the time. It’s midnight. You better hurry.”

“Right, right,” Jax said, feigning intoxication. “I’m so wasted I forgot the floor. Is it the eighth?”

“No, silly!” She slapped his arm playfully, then pointed a finger toward the ceiling. “Ninth floor! But you can’t go up the main lift… you need… the staff elevator.”

“Ah, the staff elevator.” Jax grinned. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Tier 2 Insect Core—a small fortune for someone like her. He pressed it into her hand.

“For your trouble.”

While she stared at the glowing crystal in shock, Jax’s other hand deftly swiped the staff keycard hanging from her belt.

“Sorry about this,” he whispered.

Before she could process the theft or the tip, Jax vanished into the crowd, heading for the service corridors.