The Acknowledgment - Volume One

MDA Auction Offices

                In another MDA Building, The Mythical Auction Market House, Winter sat down the Orb of Avarice on the front desk for the Auction Manager to inspect, "I've seen quite a lot of artifacts in my time, but I've never seen something like this!" He carefully taking it and setting it on a red velvet pillow. "I can't believe this red crystal ball has an amplification rate of 100%," the Manager thought, watching the rating go up on a screen by the pillow. "Even the most renowned craftsmen are only capable of making artifacts with an amplification rate of just under 50%!" He Added, "Aaron would be eager to pay a pretty penny for this," the Manager continued in thought. "Where did you get this?" He asks, looking up at Winter, "A dungeon," he replies, "Just a dungeon?" The Manager asked, "Yup," he responded. "Would you like us to put this artifact on auction? We'll be happy to help sell it at a premium price," the Manager asked, smiling welcoming. "I'm still thinking about it," Winter replied, "I want to clear the Demons' Castle as quickly as I can, that means I need protection from fire if I want to hit the ground running!" Winter thought, "Are there any artifacts that protect me from fire on sale?" He asks, "Fire protection?" The Manager asked, "Yes, is that hard to find?" Winter asks, "Quite the opposite, actually," he replied. "I couldn't find any online, though," Winter tilted his head to the side. "Protections are usually quite expensive, and don't sell well when they're online. Nor does the government like when we sell powerful protections to just anyone, They're easy to obtain once you've thoroughly gone through a background check since fire is the most common damage type," the Manager explained. "That track, I've seen more fire mages than any other type," Winter thought. They walked into a large room with several armor types in separate glass casings.

                "Do you see anything you like?" The Auction Manager asked, "Not yet, but is a thin sheet of glass strong enough to protect these artifacts? There doesn't seem to be any security measures," Winter replied, his head turned to the armor on display. "Ah, well, each of these casings have been imbued with a large amount of mana. They should be strong enough to withstand the full brunt of an A-rank Mythic's attack," the Manager explained, "Really?" Winter asked, personally unconvinced, "If you don't believe me, would you give it a crack? I'm willing to offer you the artifact inside if you manage to break the glass!" The Auction Manager offered, "Is he being serious? It couldn't be that sturdy. I don't sense that much mana within the glass-" Winter thought, before a smirk grew on his face- "I at least owe him a try!" With a deep exhale and an even deeper inhale, Winter pulled his fist back as his aura began to condense itself into his palm. The shadow in his clenched fist began to spew out, gathering at his knuckles before dripping down to the floor. "Wait wait!" The Manager quickly yelled, "I was only joking! If the glass breaks, the elite members of the Hunter's Guild will come running!" He explained, stopping Winter just in time, "Oh, sorry!" Winter responded awkwardly, his balled fist opened and scratching the back of his head. "Isn't this young man a mage type? Where is his confidence coming from?" The Auction Manager thought, "Do you have any daggers I could look at?" Winter asked, changing the subject back to what his goal was for coming here. The Auction Manager nodded, and led him to the weapon's specialist. Returning to the armor department, the manager looked over all the armor in stock. "Hm?" He asked himself, looking down at the beam in the middle of the glass casing where Winter stood previously, "When did that happen?" He asked again, staring at a crack in the glass just by the lock of the glass casing. "He didn't even touch the glass, so there's no way-" The manager thought, sweat running down his face- "Don't tell me a mage type Mythic like him is that strong!"

                In the Weapon's Department, Winter stood at the front desk, inspecting a clean designed dagger, "How much is this?" Winter asked, "Around twenty-three thousand dollars," the specialist replied. "This dagger is only a B-rank, but it's weaker than the Knight Killer dagger I got. This is simply a scam," Winter thought, "How much would something like this be?" He asked, handing one of Kang's daggers, "Oh, I recognize these. Where did you get them?" The Specialist asked, "I got it from my uncle, he retired being a hunter after losing his arm," Winter replied, half lying. "Ahh, well, this is worth well over seventy-six thousand dollars," the Specialist explained. "He must have at least spent much more to get them!" Winter began, in thought, "The daggers only have an attack of fifty, but my 'Ultimate Daggers' had an attack of 100 when I first had them," he thought, his right hand up on his chin. "I wonder what a weapon from the shop would cost, I have all of this gold I'm not using, considerably. If they fetch a good price, there's no reason to sell the orb of Avarice!" He added in thought.

               Erik sat in his office, leaned back in his office chair. "Could he be one of the very few?" He thought, "There are Mythics who are able to grow, but they're only 1% of the population!" Erik added, "In my 'enlightened state' of my partial transformations, I should be able to accurately read my opponent's rank-" He spoke softly- "But now I'm not even sure of that! I could have sworn Mr. Greats was weaker than me when I met him at the Collapsing Dungeon," Erik sighed, bringing his hand up to his temples. "How foolish of me! Why would someone as strong as him ever join a guild when he could start his own?" He asked himself, "It doesn't matter anymore to him, as long as he can continue to grow his guild will always be the best-" Erik thought- "We're wasting our time!" The Next day, Jonah was in his office staring at the TV when the news was talking about Winter, "Mr. Finely may have given up on recruiting Mr. Greats, but not me!" Jonah yelled, with a fire in his eyes, "I'm positive if we contact him one more time we can get him to join!" He added, "I'll help, chief!" Chul yelled at him. They Arrived at the EWR tower, all to find reporters swarming the tower. "Ya think Mr. Greats will meet us here? There are a lot of reporters, Mr. Jonah," the evaluator worker asked, the same young lady that had followed Jonah to find Winter before. "We'll just have to set up camp," He replied, gritting his teeth. From the very top of the tower, Mari peaked her head up from the window, looking down at the reporters outside, "Why are they all gathered here?!" She asked, glaring at them. "Look, up there!" Chul turned to Jonah, "WHAT?" He looked up quickly, the fire in his eye returning. The reporters looked up as well, pointing their cameras up and zooming in before taking pictures. "Damn it!" She quickly falls to the floor to avoid the cameras. "Want me to get someone to shoo them off?" Winter asked, his arms crossed, "No, don't-" She replied quickly- "You're already getting a lot of hate on the internet, you shouldn't add more to the fire!" Mari yelled, "Hate? What'd I do now?" He asks, "You snubbed the reporters from Lee Lyn, remember?!" She asks, crawling away from the window, "Nope-" Winter replied, staring awkwardly- "Anyway, I don't care they're outside the building, so neither should you," he added. She looked up at him with her brow and nose scrunched up, "If you say so," he sighed, walking off back to his desk.

                After Tyler Left, Mr. Throndsen went upstairs, into his walk-in closet. Mrs. Throndsen followed, "Honey, don't you think you're pushing yourself a bit harshly lately?" She asks, looking far younger than her husband, "What do you mean too harshly? If she means what she says, then I'll have to work a lot harder than this," He replied. Suddenly he blinked a couple of times, bringing his right hand up to his face while he winced as if there was bright light that flashed in his face. "Strange," he opened his eyes and looked over at Mrs. Throndsen, "What's wrong?" She asks, stepping closer, "I'm seeing two of you," he explained before falling to one knee, "What? Honey!" She grabbed onto him to prevent his head from getting hurt. "Honey?" Mrs. Throndsen asked again.