Chapter 51: Butterfly Speaker: Tonight, Are We Doing Wholesale? (Revised)

"It's fine; given the urgent situation, we can postpone checking whether the paperwork is complete. After all, this is Regiment Leader Lin Xiaoxiao's territory, and I believe the paperwork is in order."

Yue Chengzhang's tone softened a little, but his gaze at Lin Xiaoxiao remained sharp, like a wolf locking onto its prey.

"The top priority is ensuring everyone's safety; this place could collapse completely at any moment. I hope Regiment Leader can have your people assist in evacuating everyone inside."

Lin Xiaoxiao gave Yue Chengzhang a deep look, seemingly assessing the situation as well, and raised no objection.

"Even if the auction house is destroyed, it can be rebuilt, but if we clash head‑on with the Supervision Bureau here and cause massive casualties, the ensuing trouble will far outweigh any profit."

After all, it was the Church people who first ran onto Undercurrent's turf and caused this huge mess, wasn't it?

"Of course."

Lin Xiaoxiao readily agreed; this also concerns Undercurrent's reputation. Although we don't guarantee after‑sales, we must at least ensure the safety of the audience during the auction.

"Since they are guests of the auction house, Undercurrent will naturally be responsible for getting them out safely. As for Captain Yue and the Judgment Court folks……

He paused, his tone carrying a hint of detachment.

"Please feel free to go your own way; I hope next time we meet, it will be under more stable circumstances."

Having said that, he fell silent, turned, and began issuing orders to his subordinates via the earpiece.

The Undercurrent staff lying in wait in the darkness sprang into action, efficiently and orderly guiding the terrified guests still inside through emergency exits to the outside.

Yue Chengzhang watched Lin Xiaoxiao's retreating back, knowing this wasn't a good moment for a fight, and he too turned and waved his hand to give orders.

"All Supervision Bureau personnel, prioritize assisting civilian evacuation, prioritize the safety of Judgment Court colleagues and their target personnel! Search teams, speed up!"

———————————————

In a private room on the second floor of the auction hall, not far from the earlier battle's epicenter but fortunate enough to survive due to its corner location, Zhao Laoban's bloated face was filled with panic.

His original plan had been to take his daughter and leave this place of trouble after successfully bidding for the "Soul‑Devouring Orchid," but because the final price far exceeded his budget, he had been holding in a bellyful of anger.

He had been cursing the air in the private room for a long time, damning Undercurrent's black heart, damning the bastards who bid against him for being blind, cursing harder and harder, getting more and more worked up, gradually getting worked up.

Consequently, he forgot the informant's advice and missed the best chance to leave the auction hall.

Meng Kexin, meanwhile, had remained silently seated on the velvet sofa in the corner, her hands clenched tightly around the hem of her skirt, knuckles whitening as she struggled to play the role of an invisible person.

When Lin Hao's inhuman roar and mental shock penetrated their private room, she felt her head prickle as if stabbed by a needle.

Waves of dizziness washed over her, her heart pounding nonstop.

How could someone from a peaceful era have ever experienced such a scene?

Her "father" was nearly thrown from the sofa; Meng Kexin could only clutch her arms, curl her body, wishing she could bury herself in the sofa's crevice.

Before she could recover from the mental shock, an even more terrifying battle erupted not far from their private room.

The explosion generated when Chi Jin An and Ying Duo clashed, the roar of colliding energy, and the tearing sound of the building structure unable to bear the load—like a death god's symphony—blasted in their ears, right up close.

Each violent shudder made her whole body tremble, as if the next second this private room would be torn apart by the aftershocks outside.

Her "father" was even more hunched over, head buried in the thick sofa in the corner, his layers of fat trembling, his heart cursing the eighteen generations of Undercurrent's ancestors, yet he dared not make a sound.

Fortunately, the people outside completely ignored this private room's existence, and those attacks fortunately avoided their location.

Only after the earth‑shattering commotion gradually subsided, after waiting a long while, and confirming it was truly safe, did Zhao Laoban dare to tremblingly peek his head out.

He cautiously opened the private room door, and what met his eyes was a scene of devastation as if an apocalyptic disaster had just passed.

The fleeting joy of surviving the disaster was instantly replaced by a surge of angry fire; he bellowed at a nearby Undercurrent staff member directing the evacuation.

"What the hell is wrong with you Undercurrent?! I paid a fortune to attend this auction, and your security is this terrible?! I almost lost my life here! You owe me an explanation! Compensate my losses!"

His voice rang especially harsh in the empty ruins; for a moment, everyone's gaze turned toward him.

Meng Kexin was startled by his sudden loud shout, involuntarily becoming the focus of everyone's eyes; she could only silently curse herself for having such a stupid dad, hoping he wouldn't drag her down too.

She furtively lifted her eyes, glanced quickly at the ruined scene outside and at the black‑clad, stern‑aura Undercurrent personnel, her fear mounting.

So this idiot, what gives him the right to go demand compensation from those people?

Not far away, the "Butterfly Speaker," suppressing internal injuries while directing cleanup, heard the commotion over here; his icy gaze swept over instantly.

That gaze was like substance, carrying an indescribable pressure that made Meng Kexin's breath catch instinctively; she hurriedly lowered her head, continuing to act like a quail.

The Butterfly Speaker's mood was terrible at the moment—the auction hall destroyed, he himself wounded, and he still had to clean up this mess; he had no patience to listen to a nouveau riche making noise here.

"This guest."

Accompanying the Butterfly Speaker's voice came a mental pressure; Zhao Laoban fell silent at once, Meng Kexin frightened, quickly tightening her spirit, striving to appear timid and harmless.

"If you wish to leave safely, please follow the staff's instructions and evacuate immediately; if you keep shouting loudly and disturbing order, I cannot guarantee you'll emerge unharmed and make it back home."

Zhao Laoban was startled by the coldness in his eyes and words, his angry expression instantly turning into fawning and fear, nodding and bowing repeatedly.

"Yes yes yes……we're leaving now, we're leaving now……

While speaking in a low, deferential tone, he also grabbed the nearby Meng Kexin, who had her head bowed, and slipped miserably into the evacuating crowd, hurrying toward the exit.

As they passed the Butterfly Speaker, his deep‑purple eyes unintentionally lingered on Meng Kexin for a moment.

He furrowed his brows slightly, as if sensing something.

After Zhao Laoban and his daughter had walked away, Regiment Leader Lin Xiaoxiao quietly appeared beside the Butterfly Speaker at some point.

"What happened?" his voice remained calm.

The Butterfly Speaker rubbed his still‑aching chest, gave a self‑deprecating smile, and whispered:

"Nothing……just suddenly feeling a bit sentimental, Regiment Leader, don't you think the number of mental‑system aberrant arts practitioners is getting a bit excessive these days?"

His gaze swept over the direction Meng Kexin had disappeared, then recalled Lin Hao, who could still emit mental shock even after mutation.

"That mutated kid just now, and that little girl just now……

"Although it's weak, if her father hadn't stepped forward to cause trouble, her unconscious mental fluctuations could even have made everyone else present overlook their existence."

The Butterfly Speaker shook his head, his voice full of gloom and bewilderment.

"You know, the awakening probability for aberrant arts that touch the law is already low; why tonight does it feel like a market, with another one popping up after a while?"

"Oh? Is that so?"

Lin Xiaoxiao heard this, his ice‑blue eyes following the Butterfly Speaker's gaze toward the direction Meng Kexin and her father had left, his ice‑blue eyes narrowing slightly, a flash of something hard to read flickering in his gaze.