The price on the screen, driven by the frenzy of countless participants, had reached an alarming level—and it continued to climb.
"Ninety-five million once, ninety-five million twice, ninety-five…"
After the bidding passed eighty million, the rapid pace began to slow.
Even the wealthy, for all their pursuit of excitement, still cared about cost-effectiveness. Eighty million yuan could buy several beautiful humans. Now, that amount was being used on a single mermaid. No matter how they looked at it, it felt like a loss.
Behind the scenes, Earl Vale held the bidding device in his hand. A smirk tugged at his lips. He paid no attention to Old Tang's increasingly dark expression beside him. That smug smile made it clear—he believed victory was his.
Old Tang muttered under his breath, "They're all insane. Every last one of them."
"One hundred million."
The sudden spike interrupted what should have been the final call.
Even the auctioneer was startled by the number. He paused, then repeated the figure with a stammer.
A flash of surprise appeared on Earl Vale's face.
Someone dared to make that offer?
"One hundred fifty million."
Earl Vale pressed the bidding button coldly. He was clearly displeased with the situation. To him, it felt like someone was intentionally disrupting the auction.
Who would let themselves be taken advantage of like this?
"Two hundred million."
The number on the screen jumped again.
Earl Vale stared at it, stunned. Even he couldn't help but draw a sharp breath.
As the two hundred million flashed across the screen, whispers broke out all over the auction house.
No one else dared to raise the price.
Earl Vale's hand twitched toward the device again, but Old Tang quickly snatched it away from him.
"Enough. You can't have this mermaid," Old Tang said firmly.
"What? Are you joking?"
Told he couldn't claim what he had been so close to winning, Earl Vale's face contorted with rage. He nearly leapt from his seat.
"What do you mean I can't have it? Who gets to decide what I can and can't want?"
He tried to snatch the device back, but Old Tang blocked him easily and replied in a cold tone:
"Because you don't have that much money. And because of the Doomsday Lab's warning. Are you trying to throw everything away?"
Earl Vale froze. The words hit him like a bucket of ice water. He turned his gaze back to the glowing screen. Two hundred million. A cold sweat broke out across his back.
"They said the two hundred million would be considered a small gift to thank you for cooperating with them," Old Tang continued. "But don't ever pull something like this again."
He shook his head in disapproval. He couldn't understand how someone as calculated as Earl Vale could make such a reckless decision.
Earl Vale's complexion turned pale. He glanced once more at the white mermaid on display, then collapsed back into his seat, defeated.
The blond man's expression twisted. His blue eyes lost focus as he stared blankly into the air, mumbling to himself:
"What's the truth?"
From beginning to end, everything about this auction felt off.
He desired the white mermaid, yes, but profit was the stronger force pulling him in. Those two emotions coexisted within his damaged heart, tearing him apart. What resulted was this absurd, almost farcical scene.
…
In a private room on the second floor of the auction house, a man in a tailored military uniform sat upright. His black eyes glinted as he stared down at the bewildered white mermaid on stage.
He set his phone aside, brushed his slender fingers over the bidding button, and asked his subordinate:
"Well?"
The red-haired young man beside him grinned broadly.
"It's done."
Then, following his superior's gaze to the stage, he let out a soft sigh.
"I never expected to see him here."
"If he hadn't swum to the surface, would this have happened?"
The man gave a sharp snort, clearly displeased by the tone of that question.
"Think about what you're saying. If that little cutie hadn't surfaced to save us, we'd be fish food right now."
The red-haired man muttered, not realizing he had stunned his commanding officer for a moment.
"And who was it that scrambled to pull strings and get us a seat here the moment he heard a mermaid was going up for auction?"
"…"
The red-haired youth pulled out his communicator and glanced at the screen. His face soured.
"Colonel, Dr. Mourin from the Doomsday Lab is pressing for an answer."
"Let him wait."
This man was the one Lansi had once rescued.
"Carl, tell them directly—I want this mermaid."
"But…"
Carl hesitated, frowning, but before he could say anything more, Wen Yu handed him a key.
"Take this. If the doctors from the lab confront you, pass along my message. If they still object, give them the key."
Wen Yu's features were cool and refined. At first glance, he seemed detached from the world around him. That icy temperament earned him the nickname "human weapon." As long as no one provoked him, he didn't care what happened—even if it meant his own death.
At the beginning, no one took Wen Yu seriously. They assumed he was just an emotionless tool. But now, a heavy pressure radiated from him. It made people understand that this "weapon" wasn't just a blade—it could cut through anything and strike at the heart.
Even on the brink of human extinction, politics and games of power still thrived. The internal strife within the alliance was enough to give any scientist a headache.
This was the trump card Wen Yu had been hiding. One strong enough that no one dared question why a mermaid was involved.
Carl stared at the small key in his hand. It was so light, yet it set his soul on fire.
Yes. This was the man he had chosen to follow.
Straightening his posture, Carl gave Wen Yu a sharp military salute.
"Yes, sir."
"Good."
Wen Yu nodded. "After the auction ends, have them send the mermaid to the address I just acquired."
"Yes."
After Carl left, Wen Yu turned his gaze back to the stage, to the caged white mermaid.
Lansi was frightened. He could tell.
When he first learned Lansi had been captured, Wen Yu had seriously considered storming the auction and rescuing him by force, even at the cost of his identity or his life. But after some thought, he let the idea go.
What was evolution? And how did it begin?
True evolution never took root in times of comfort.
Wen Yu and Winsor had both seen Lansi as a miracle from the start. But his easy capture now revealed something troubling—he was incomplete.
Lansi needed to evolve. And this crisis was the perfect catalyst.
Only the desire to change could build a new nest.
Wen Yu wouldn't mind if Lansi remained the same as before. But since the opportunity had come, why not seize it?
Who wouldn't want something more perfect?
"Lansi…"
Wen Yu whispered the name, recalling the records he had retrieved after returning. He'd scoured every archive for any trace of the human known as Lansi.
Many people had used that name, but only one had boarded the Queen Mary.
According to medical records, that Lansi had been young, healthy, and free from illness.
If he had survived, he would now be over a hundred years old.
Lansi had lived in the era of big data. Back then, everyone left a trail online. By following that trail, Wen Yu pieced together the first twenty years of his life.
Those twenty years were sweet, filled with happiness.
No wonder he had become such a gentle, delicate white fish.
But the end of that era had come.
To maintain stability, the government had hidden knowledge of the apocalypse. While the public was kept in the dark, scientists raced to find a solution. With government approval, secret experiments had already begun.
Medical companies used big data to select ideal subjects. Then, through a web of coincidence, they brought them together for testing.
Cruel? For the victims, of course.
But it was the only path left for humanity.
The government had sacrificed a few to save the many.
In the end, the strategy worked. The early experiments provided data that helped save hundreds of millions when the apocalypse finally arrived.
Lansi had been one of the first test subjects.
In fact, everyone on the Queen Mary had been.
Had it not been for the riots and sea monster attacks, the ship would have delivered them to a remote Pacific island for the second phase of experimentation.
But fate had other plans. The Queen Mary sank, and the experimental subjects were presumed dead.
That project was called "Poseidon."
The first test subjects had ideal genes. But after the accident, the researchers had no choice but to continue with weaker candidates. All of them died. The project was declared a failure.
Now, it seemed, Lansi was the only successful result of Poseidon.
As for his mermaid form, perhaps it was the result of his body evolving underwater over fifty years of dormancy. A natural adaptation to his environment.