Night had fallen over the Capital City of Grant.

  It should have been a quiet hour, the kind where streets softened and lantern light ruled alone. But this was the capital of a kingdom, and silence had no authority here. Even the night streets buzzed with energy, voices and movement flowing like a restless current.

  The most crowded place of all was the Grand Auction Hall.

  Guards hurried back and forth as a long line of luxurious carriages passed through the massive gates. Though there was a checkpoint, little effort was required. Servants handled everything in advance. For noble carriages, a single glance at the family crest was enough. No inspections. No delays.

  And it was not only nobles of the kingdom who had come.

  Foreign nobles, wealthy merchants, influential figures from distant lands—anyone who could afford to attend was here. Tonight’s auction promised items too rare, too valuable, to be missed.

  One of the guards stood at his post, bowing deeply as a viscount’s carriage rolled past.

  Another followed.

  And another.

  He let out a quiet huff as he straightened again, his back protesting.

  He tilted his head toward the night sky. At this point, am I guarding the gate… or just bowing all night? He had lost count of how many times he had bent at the waist.

  A low murmur rippled through the crowd outside the gates.

  The guard barely reacted at first. That usually meant another famous name had arrived. It was normal. Expected.

  He prepared himself to hear the familiar sounds—wooden wheels creaking, hooves striking stone.

  But what reached his ears instead made him freeze.

  A deep, low rumble.

  Steady. Controlled.

  It was accompanied by a smooth, almost musical hum—mechanical, yet refined.

  His brows knit together.

  “…What the hell is that?”

  The sound grew closer.

  The guards turned as one.

  What emerged from the street was something none of them had ever seen.

  A black shape glided forward beneath the lantern light.

  For a heartbeat, the guard’s mind screamed monster.

  Its body was sleek and unnatural, wrapped in polished black with silver accents that caught the light like flowing metal. Glass replaced windows. Four wheels rolled beneath it, silent and smooth, unlike any carriage he had known.

  A black beast.

  He nearly reached for his signal horn—until he realized it was shaped like a carriage. No legs. No hooves. Just… motion.

  The guard had no word for it.

  He had never seen a car.

  There were no cars in this world.

  This was Helena’s artifact.

  A vintage luxury sedan, black with silver trim, moving at an unhurried, confident pace. It carried an aura of wealth so heavy it pressed against the senses.

  The guard swallowed and forced himself to breathe.

  Calm down. Professional. Professional.

  Relief washed over him when he noticed a figure inside, visible behind the glass. Though he could not see her face clearly, the golden masquerade mask covering the upper half of it gleamed unmistakably.

  Masks were permitted tonight. Even encouraged. It was part of the auction’s theme, though most guests had no need for them. Their identities were already well known.

  The guard straightened fully.

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  For once, this was not just another bow.

  He raised his arm, palm outward, signaling the vehicle to halt. Even as he did, doubt flickered through his mind.

  Will it even stop? I don’t even know how that thing moves…

  The doubt vanished instantly.

  The strange vehicle slowed smoothly and came to a perfect stop before the gate.

  The guard exhaled and stepped forward, bending slightly to peer through the glass.

  The woman in the golden mask did not look at him.

  One hand rested casually on the strange wheel before her. With the other, she lifted her thumb and gestured backward.

  The rear door opened on its own.

  The guard stiffened.

  A second woman stepped out.

  She, too, wore a mask—but with swift, practiced elegance, she removed it as she straightened.

  The guard’s breath caught.

  Lady Rias.

  Head of the Property Management Department of the Merchant Guild.

  His spine snapped straighter than it had all night.

  Whatever this strange carriage was—

  Whatever sort of woman sat behind its wheel—

  This arrival was no ordinary guest.

  Rias settled back into the car after confirming matters with the guard. He stepped aside at once and returned to his post, posture rigid, eyes forward.

  The door closed softly.

  Inside, Rias adjusted herself into the back seat. Laysandra sat beside her, also wearing a mask, her posture stiff with restrained nerves.

  Outside, attention had already begun to gather.

  People stared.

  Whispers spread.

  “What is that carriage?”

  “There are no horses…”

  “Is it a magic tool?”

  “I want one.”

  “Will the Merchant Guild start selling these?”

  Speculation piled upon speculation. None of them knew it yet, but if the Merchant Guild ever sold a horseless carriage like this, it would not be a novelty.

  It would be a revolution.

  Rias crossed one leg over the other and leaned back into the soft leather seat. The interior was absurdly comfortable. Too comfortable. The materials alone were extravagant, and the small details felt… excessive. Deliberately so.

  She ran her fingers lightly across the armrest.

  Overkill, she thought. But magnificent.

  Laysandra, meanwhile, kept her hands folded tightly in her lap, as if afraid that moving too much might cause something terrible to happen.

  Rias looked forward. “Helena… do you really not know how your friend made this ‘car’ thing?”

  Helena had already told her to drop the formalities, so Rias no longer used titles.

  “I don’t,” Helena replied casually, eyes on the path ahead. “Aether engineering isn’t my strong suit.”

  She shrugged slightly.

  “Besides, I’m a consumer. I don’t care how it works. If it works, that’s enough.”

  Rias fell silent.

  Shock had come first when she saw the sedan. Then excitement. Then greed.

  This thing was a gold mine.

  If it could be replicated, even partially, the Merchant Guild would drown in profit.

  She had already tried. Asked if magic-tool experts could examine it. Offered controlled testing. Promised Helena full ownership and business rights.

  Helena had shut it down calmly.

  It wasn’t a magic tool.

  It was an artifact.

  Magic-tool knowledge wouldn’t even scratch the surface.

  And the person who made it was already dead.

  Rias had backed off, reluctantly.

  She glanced around the interior again, rubbing her fingers against the leather. Not just the movement, but the silence, the smoothness, the lack of vibration. You barely noticed when it started moving if the engine was already on.

  It was absurd.

  Helena suddenly giggled. “If you want one, I can lend it to you for a few days.”

  Rias froze. “You… have more than one?”

  “I do,” Helena replied easily.

  Rias opened her mouth, then hesitated.

  Helena continued, still casual. “I’m just saying. As friends. I can let you use it for a few days. No charge.”

  Rias shook her head, half-laughing. “No, no. That’s not what I meant.”

  But the truth slipped out anyway.

  “…I would love to drive one myself.”

  She paused, realizing how strange that sounded. People like her did not drive. That was what servants were for.

  And yet Helena was driving herself.

  And somehow, it felt right.

  “This isn’t something you hand off,” Rias admitted. “It’s something you experience.”

  Helena smiled. “I can teach you after the auction.”

  Rias blinked, then smiled back. “I’d like that.”

  She glanced out the window.

  They had already passed the main entrance and were heading toward the carriage handling area. Outside, people were still staring at the black vehicle as it glided by, curiosity burning in their eyes.

  Rias smirked.

  I love this already.

  Helena spoke again. “Tonight’s dinner is on you, Rias.”

  Rias blinked. “Huh?”

  It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford it. The timing just caught her off guard.

  Helena continued calmly, eyes still forward. “After all, you’re the one making a fortune tonight.”

  “…Am I?” Rias asked lightly.

  But her grin betrayed her.

  If Helena was right, then she had already figured it out.

  Rias tried to play innocent. “I don’t understand, Helena. I mean, I understand half of that sentence, but—”

  Helena cut her off, glancing at Rias’s reflection in the mirror.

  “Those reference cards aren’t for friends,” she said simply. “Am I wrong?”

  Rias exhaled and laughed softly.

  So she knew.

  Laysandra looked between the two of them, completely lost.

  She had no idea what they were talking about. All she knew was that being here, in this car, on the way to the Grand Auction, was doing terrible things to her stomach. She desperately wanted to disappear.

  Rias gave up pretending. “How did you know?”

  Helena giggled. “Hehe. Just a gut feeling.”

  “…Your gut feeling is terrifyingly accurate,” Rias admitted.

  She leaned back. “You’re not talking about commission from what you buy tonight, are you?”

  Helena tilted her head slightly as the sedan slowed.

  “Nope,” she said. “I’m talking about the big reward.”

  Rias sighed, then explained. “The Merchant Guild rewards members whose referenced guests spend the most at the auction. Not just money—status. Influence. Proof of value.”

  She glanced at Helena. “It shows who brings profit to the guild. Who has connections worth keeping.”

  After a brief pause, she added, “I’m still called the rising star, you know.”

  Helena hummed.

  “I climbed fast,” Rias continued. “But because of my age, people still think I got lucky. My position as department head isn’t as secure as it looks.”

  Helena nodded. “So if your reference spends the most tonight, you gain a solid achievement. Your position strengthens.”

  “Yes,” Rias said. “Exactly.”

  Helena glanced at her in the mirror. “Then why me? Five Platinum Coins don’t exactly prove I’m endlessly rich.”

  Rias smiled faintly. “I told you already. I used to be a gambler.”

  She met Helena’s gaze. “And tonight, my instincts told me to bet on you.”

  Helena’s golden eyes gleamed behind her mask.

  She grinned.

  “How lucky for you,” she said softly. “You just bet on something that can’t lose.”

  Rias smiled back, fully convinced now that her choice had been right.

  Suddenly, Helena tapped the brakes.

  A carriage was blocking the path ahead.

  She frowned. “What are they doing in the middle of the road?”

  She pressed the horn.

  The sharp sound cut through the air, turning every head nearby.

  The man climbed down from the carriage with heavy, labored steps.

  Not because he was injured.

  Because he was fat. Excessively so.

  Each step made the wooden stair creak in protest as he landed on the ground and straightened himself with visible effort. His face was already twisted in irritation.

  “Who the hell is making that unpleasant sound?” he barked.

  He turned toward the source of the noise—and froze.

  “…Oh?”

  His eyes widened.

  A carriage.

  No horses.

  Four wheels.

  Black, glossy, unnatural.

  His irritation vanished instantly, replaced by greedy fascination. His lips parted slightly as a single thought rose in his mind.

  I want one.

  Behind him, another figure climbed down. A woman. Just as round as he was. Then two children followed, both sharing the same unmistakable build, as if excess weight truly ran in their blood.

  The woman adjusted her dress and frowned. “What happened, honey?”

  The man opened his mouth to answer—

  BEEEEP.

  The horn cut him off.

  Helena pressed it again.

  BEEEEP.

  The man’s mood soured instantly. He clicked his tongue loudly.

  “Tch.”

  Instead of ordering his driver to move the carriage out of the way, he puffed out his chest and began stomping toward the strange vehicle, each step heavy and deliberate. Several personal guards hurried after him.

  Inside the sedan, Helena was visibly annoyed.

  She just wanted the path cleared.

  The man had stepped down, stared, and now chosen to walk over personally instead of doing the obvious thing. He hadn’t even bothered to tell his driver to move.

  Helena glanced sideways at Rias.

  “…Should I run him over?”

  Rias stiffened. “Please don’t,” she said quickly. “Even if he looks like that, he is a noble of the kingdom. If I remember correctly, he’s a viscount from some rural territory.”

  She added hurriedly, “And please don’t make jokes like that.”

  Helena didn’t look away from the windshield.

  “I’m not joking,” she replied calmly.

  Rias swallowed.

  Laysandra quietly wished for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.