“This is a charity auction. Please remember your manners. From now on, whoever interrupts the bidding will be escorted out of the venue at once.

The guests recognized the old man as soon as he appeared in front of them.

It was Amon Hopkins, the dean of No. 2 Research Institute of Broome University and one of the organizers of this event. When the ruckus had died down and he was satisfied with the behavior of the crowd, Amon handed the microphone back to the hostess.

As he walked to the back of the stage, he shot Maria an encouraging look before leaving. Maria gave him a small thankful nod, subtle enough that other people wouldn't notice.

The hostess invited the crowd to resume bidding. The price of the elixir formula increased even further to five hundred million dollars, but the guests seemed to be in high spirits, and the bidding showed no sign of slowing down.

At this time, one of the few private boxes at the event had just received its VIP guests.

A young man with blond hair and blue eyes walked into the room, escorted by two beautiful assistants. Before taking his seat, the man let his eyes run over the stage.

“Interesting! The item they're bidding on, is it something like traditional medicine?"

In the eyes of the venerable ancient clans, the recipe of the Peony Pill held an undeniable allure. Yet, at this moment, it seemed to be regarded as inconsequential by the gentleman before them.

Having taken his seat, the man gestured with a snap of his fingers. Promptly, one of his graceful assistants adeptly unlatched a sleek briefcase, producing an opulent bottle of red wine alongside an exquisitely designed set of wine accoutrements.

With careful precision, the beautiful assistant decanted the red wine, permitting it to breathe for a spell before pouring the elixir into a lavishly adorned goblet.

“Octavian, here is your wine," the elegant assistant intoned while kneeling beside Octavian and presenting the goblet.

“Karla, I derive immense pleasure from hearing you converse in the Highwyn tongue. It possesses a certain enchantment," Octavian commended, his expression characterized by a smile. He was also fluent in Highwyn language.

Concealed behind his visage, no one could discern that he was of foreign origin.

“Lilliana, do you believe that document warrants the investment?" Octavian turned to his other attractive assistant and inquired. With a respectful nod, Lilliana replied, "Given its certification by the

Pill Alchemist Association, it undoubtedly bears significant value."

Satisfied with her response, Octavian nodded.

“Very well, then I shall make use of some of my discretionary funds."

Meanwhile, on the stage, the female host received a transmission through her earpiece, manifesting her astonishment with a controlled tone as she declared, "A bid of 650 million dollars has been tendered by the patron in room three!"

The current occupant of room three was none other than Octavian.

Merely moments ago, the bidding for the Peony Pill formula had already escalated to 600 million dollars. This sum constituted a substantial figure.

Although not reaching its zenith, those prominent families had grown circumspect, choosing to abstain from elevating their offers in increments of a hundred million dollars.

Octavian's abrupt entrance into the bidding fray, precipitating a 50- million-dollar surge in the price, elicited displeased countenances from many representatives of the eminent families.

Barbara's visage clouded over, "I expended 60@ million on the Reverse Pill! Why does Maria's fourth-grade pill formula command a higher valuation than mine? With such an elevated bidding price, how many admission slots will Naria secure for the Jenkins family? How shall I elucidate this to grandmother?"