Compared to the dazzling brilliance of the first-floor lobby,
the second floor of Goldrolyn Auction House appeared much more restrained.
But this sense of luxury had clearly been elevated to an entirely new level.
The plush carpet beneath Link's feet was woven from fine cashmere, providing an unbelievably soft touch.
The second floor was structured around a central corridor, with rows of negotiation chambers on either side.
Link stood before Negotiation Room 3, where a signboard to the left outlined the room's primary purpose—negotiations related to psionic potions.
Next to it, other rooms were dedicated to things like Flesh Forging Arts, Meditation Techniques, and even some rare legends and curious artifacts.
It had to be said—Goldrolyn Auction House truly offered an all-encompassing variety of services.
Link took a deep breath, then reached out and pushed open the door before him.
At this moment, his spiritual powers had nearly recovered to full capacity—enough to support him if he needed to activate Death Rewind again.
If the potion recipes he had brought could actually make him rich overnight, then money would never be a concern for him again.
And even if something really did go wrong, Link had a backup plan: he could always commit suicide and rewind time.
His Death Rewind talent gave him nearly limitless opportunities to make mistakes and try again.
Of course, that didn't mean he wanted to die again.
That raw, soul-ripping pain of death still made his breath catch just thinking about it.
Setting those thoughts aside, Link turned his attention to the man waiting in front of him.
It was an elderly gentleman, hair snow-white, dressed in an elegant black tailcoat.
"Greetings, esteemed guest. How may I assist you today?"
"I have a psionic potion formula," Link said calmly, handing over the first scroll he had prepared. "I'd like you to appraise it."
The old man's expression froze for a moment, then he reached out and took the scroll—though not without a hint of skepticism on his face.
As the chief alchemist specially hired by Goldrolyn Auction House, his professional credentials were naturally top-notch.
Most of the time, he could tell with just a single glance whether a potion formula was effective or not.
He had assumed Link was like most people who came here—bringing half-baked, barely legible recipes or outright garbage scribbled out of desperation.
But the moment he laid eyes on the contents of the scroll, he froze completely.
"Th-this… this is a Flesh Forging Potion from the Wealthborn Clan!?"
"Kid, where on earth did you get this?!"
The old man suddenly shot to his feet, eyes wide, locked firmly onto Link like a hawk.
Link was startled by his reaction, but managed to maintain his composure on the surface.
He spoke calmly, "Doesn't your auction house have a policy not to ask about the source?"
The old man blinked, realizing his misstep. A faint, apologetic smile formed on his lips.
"My apologies, honored guest. I lost my composure just now."
"It's just that the Wealthborn Clan rarely shows up on the frontlines. Even within our Alchemists' Association, we've never had a complete Flesh Forging Potion formula from them."
"Of course, I'm not doubting the authenticity of your formula—I just need to confirm whether it actually works on humans."
Link gave a slight nod, his face unreadable.
"How long will it take?" he asked flatly.
"Please wait just ten minutes," the old man replied respectfully.
He handled the scroll as though it were a priceless treasure, holding it with both hands as he approached the adjacent alchemy station.
To his credit, the old man really knew his craft. His movements were swift, precise, and graceful—like a stream flowing effortlessly down a mountain.
In less than ten minutes, he had already completed a batch of the Wealthborn Clan's Flesh Forging Potion.
What happened next completely stunned Link.
The old man—without hesitation—lifted the vial and drank the potion himself!
What the hell? Is he for real!?
Wasn't he even a little worried that the formula might be flawed and potentially poisonous?
Just as Link was silently freaking out, a look of exhilaration appeared in the old man's eyes.
"It works. It actually works!" he exclaimed. "The spiritual energy it contains is at least fifty percent stronger than the most commonly used Flesh Forging Potions on the market!"
"Esteemed guest, how would you like to sell this formula? We offer two options: profit-sharing through our channels, or a full buyout."
Link remained silent, his gaze fixed on the old man, waiting for him to continue.
The man thought for a moment, then raised his withered hand and gestured meaningfully.
"If you choose the profit-sharing model, we're prepared to offer you 30% of the net profits. Don't underestimate that figure. I promise you, with Goldrolyn Auction House's distribution network, this could amount to a truly terrifying sum."
"Of course, you may also opt for a one-time buyout. In that case…"
He paused for effect, then added,
"…we can offer you this amount."
Link frowned slightly, watching the old man's gesturing fingers with curiosity.
Noticing the hesitation, the old man finally dropped the act and revealed the figure.
"Five hundred million. That's the highest amount we're authorized to offer—and a clear sign of our sincerity."
Five hundred million?!
Link's pupils shrank sharply. A wave of heat rushed to his head, and his breathing turned rapid.
He had been telling himself repeatedly to stay calm—but how could anyone remain calm in the face of five hundred million dollars?
"If… if I have two more formulas—ones with effects similar to the Wealthborn Clan's Flesh Forging Art—what then?"
…
"Link! What are you spacing out for? I'm telling you, I nearly passed out during my first training session yesterday!"
Max rubbed his sore shoulder and excitedly leaned closer.
Link nodded absentmindedly. His mind was still dazed—because moments ago, he had received a deposit notification on his bank account.
Two billion dollars.
The other students around them seemed to be just as excited, though for different reasons.
They were happily sharing stories about their first training sessions, chatting and laughing among themselves.
Just then, their teacher walked into the room.
"Alright, class. Today, we'll be conducting your first Power Values assessment."
"I won't waste time with extra words—I just hope you've all grown stronger."
"Also, I advise you to stock up on more spiritual power materials for your training."
"You're all laying your foundations right now. If your body doesn't get enough spiritual nourishment, it could damage your core development."
"So please, go home and tell your parents—even if they have to tighten their belts, they must get you more spiritual-enhancing food and resources!"
Under the teacher's direction, the students boarded a large transport bus.
Thirty minutes later…
Link and the others arrived at their destination.
As soon as they got off the bus, many of the students recognized the place immediately.
It was none other than Velmoria's Hall of Heroes—the resting ground of those who had given their lives for humanity.
Every single person buried there was a true hero—someone who had sacrificed everything for the survival of the human race.