Path of the Extra-Chapter 253: Numbers Don’t Bite… Right?

Releasing Azriel's arm, she reached into her storage ring and pulled out a small crimson box, presenting it before Oscar's eyes.

He hesitated, then carefully took the box from her hands, making sure not to brush against her fingers. With a breath held in his chest, he opened it.

Inside sat a golden ring—elegantly crafted, crowned with a radiant red diamond that pulsed with an inner fire. For a moment, he said nothing. His breath caught. His hands trembled.

Quickly, he shut the box again and exhaled shakily, before bowing deeper.

"I am eternally grateful to receive such a priceless treasure from the Crimson Clan," he said with sincerity. "Please, if you will allow me, I would be honored to personally guide you to a private room where you can view the auction in comfort."

As he dipped his head once more, he couldn't resist a glance upward—toward Azriel.

Azriel noticed.

Their eyes met for the briefest moment.

Azriel gave him a tight, practiced smile. The kind that meant nothing. The kind that made Oscar immediately avert his gaze.

'…Well, after today, only someone living under a rock won't know my face anymore.'

This was the first time Azriel had publicly appeared—truly appeared—in front of the world, where every moment was captured, recorded, and shared.

Oscar turned and began leading the way down the corridor.

Azriel made to follow… only to freeze when he felt Jasmine's arm slip into his once more.

He looked at her, blinking in surprise.

She offered him a soft smile—and without a word, took the lead.

Azriel sighed beneath his breath, lips curling into a dry, resigned smile as he followed.

Servants passed them in the hallway, halting in place as soon as they recognized the figures walking by. First, they registered Lord Oscar. Then, their eyes widened at the sight of the Crimson Princess. Another heartbeat later, they processed Azriel's identity—and finally, Nol, the silver-haired boy trailing silently behind.

Every one of them bowed in silence, stepping to the side as the four passed.

Eventually, they reached their location in silence, with any conversation making the mood a bit awkward.

A door stood before them, sleek and quiet, marked with a golden plaque.

The VIP Room.

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Oscar turned around, hands clasped together, that ever-present polite smile still on his face.

"This here is our finest VIP lounge," he said, gesturing toward the door.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable inside. I hope you'll forgive me—I'll have to take my leave now, as the auction is about to begin. I will be hosting personally tonight."

"We'll be looking forward to it," Azriel replied with a pleasant smile.

"The entire world seems to have turned its eyes to this auction. I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations, Lord Oscar."

Oscar blinked, caught off guard by Azriel's calm tone, then quickly bowed.

"I assure you, Your Highnesses—today will be a day the world remembers."

"That it will be," Azriel replied quietly.

With that, Oscar took his leave.

Nol stepped forward, casually pushing the door open for them.

What greeted them was a room that reeked of wealth and power. At the far end stretched a floor-to-ceiling glass wall, offering a panoramic view of the auction hall below. Dark mahogany floors and rich crimson drapes created a heavy, regal atmosphere. Gold accents glimmered beneath the soft lighting, and plush leather couches were arranged around sleek bidding tablets. A screen embedded in the glass wall displayed a live feed of the podium, already flickering with movement.

To the side stood a fully stocked mini bar. Behind it, a man waited silently.

Azriel's eyes narrowed slightly.

'…That's Oliver. A Master-ranked human.'

As the door closed behind them with a soft click, the man stepped forward and bowed respectfully.

"It is an honor to meet you, Princess Jasmine, Prince Azriel," he said in a formal tone.

"My name is Oliver. I've been assigned to serve you during your stay. If there is anything you require, please do not hesitate to ask."

Before Jasmine could respond, Azriel spoke up.

"We'll manage just fine on our own, Sir Oliver. You may leave the room. If we need anything, I'll make sure you're informed."

Oliver raised his head, caught off guard. His eyes flicked to Jasmine, who remained silent, then to Nol, who gave no sign of acknowledgment either way—his face unreadable.

The man bowed again.

"Very well. Please enjoy yourselves... and happy bidding."

Without another word, he turned and left, closing the door behind him with a quiet thud.

Once the door clicked shut behind Oliver, silence settled in.

Seeing they were finally alone, Azriel turned to Jasmine.

"You can let go now."

Jasmine raised her brows, slowly turning her head toward him. Then, without warning, she tightened her grip around his arm and flashed a mischievous smile.

"Don't wanna."

Azriel groaned.

"...What happened to the ice princess?"

She gave an exaggerated huff.

"Why would I show you my cold side, little brother? W-wait... Don't tell me you're into that sort of thing?"

Azriel stared at her blankly.

"...You're hilarious."

"Right?" she giggled.

Before he could respond, Nol suddenly leapt from behind, wrapping his arms around Azriel's neck in a dramatic hug.

"Wahh, Master! These clothes are way too uncomfortable!" he whined.

"We're finally alone—let me take them off, please!"

"H-Hey—let go, Nol!"

Azriel stumbled under Nol's weight, trying to shake him off as the silver-haired boy clung tighter. Jasmine raised a hand to her lips, feigning shock.

"Nol," she said in a chiding tone, "Amaya worked hard on our outfits. Just bear with it for today, alright? You wouldn't want to hurt her feelings… or do something in public that might ruin our image, right?"

Nol turned to look at her, then pouted and looked away with a dramatic sigh.

"...Using sound logic is cheating, sister."

Azriel's expression was one of pure annoyance.

"Are you done? Let go of me already."

"Dooon't wanna~" Nol sang.

Azriel stared at the two of them in disbelief.

"You two... seriously... haa."

Dragging himself toward the couch with both Jasmine and Nol still latched onto him, Azriel finally managed to reach the seating area. Only then did the two troublemakers release him and settle down, both wearing annoyingly satisfied smiles.

Azriel slumped into the seat with a sigh, picking up the bidding tablet beside him. He glanced at the number displayed on it—then blinked.

His face paled.

'...666.'

Azriel's throat felt dry as he continued staring at the number.

He bit his lip.

'Is this a joke? …No, there's no way this is just a coincidence…'

Without another word, he abruptly stood up. Jasmine and Nol both turned to him, confused.

"I need something to drink," he muttered hoarsely.

Jasmine's brows furrowed. The sudden shift in his demeanor wasn't lost on her.

"Azriel?"

He didn't respond. He simply walked toward the mini bar.

But before he could reach it, a sharp sound shattered the silence.

Glass.

Azriel spun around.

"N-Nol?! What are you doing!?"

Jasmine's eyes widened, just as stunned as Azriel, as they both watched Nol standing with the tablet—Azriel's tablet—now split clean in half, its pieces hanging uselessly in his hands.

"Nol…?"

The silver-haired boy looked up at him with a completely blank expression.

"Master looked in pain when he saw the number 666 on the tablet," he said flatly. "So… if there's no number, there's no pain, right?"

Azriel stared at him for a moment, stunned—then suddenly burst into laughter.

His shoulders shook as a low chuckle slipped out, rising into a full laugh that echoed around the lounge. Jasmine and Nol blinked at him, momentarily stunned.

"What are you even saying, Nol?" Azriel grinned. "Why would a mere number hurt me?"

"Huh? But—"

"I know you've been binge-watching all those ridiculous shows Jasmine keeps recommending," Azriel interrupted, shooting a mock-accusatory glare at his sister, who swiftly looked away, avoiding eye contact. "But there's a difference between fiction and reality, you know."

Nol's eyes widened as if the stars had just aligned in his head.

"OHH! That makes sense. As expected of Master!" he said, nodding solemnly like a disciple hearing divine truth.

Jasmine gave the two of them a long, deadpan stare.

At that exact moment, the massive screen built into the glass wall flickered to life.

Oscar appeared, stepping onto the podium and walking up to the microphone with theatrical flair.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" his voice boomed, smooth and confident, "Welcome to a night of elegance, excitement, and extraordinary treasures here at Auction House Cake!"

He gave a flourishing bow.

"I'm Oscar—your charismatic host, master of the gavel, and conductor of tonight's unforgettable spectacle! I do hope you've all been saving up—because by the end of this event, your wallets might just be empty… but your hearts full!"