The Heavenly Demon Can’t Live A Normal Life [EN]: Chapter 560

The auction hall was buzzing with excitement.

Going from 1 trillion to 2 trillion was already surprising. But then someone shouted 3 trillion! It was like they wanted to win just by spending more money, which shocked everyone.

Actually, the price wasn’t completely unreasonable. For a long time, the problem with mana weapons was that they broke too easily. Iron weapons, even with magic, just weren’t strong enough.

Even if you paid a huge amount of money for a mana weapon, it was useless if it snapped in battle. Because of this, people had quietly agreed that there was a limit to how much a weapon could be worth.

But this was different.

Roman Dmitry’s Revolution solved two problems at the same time.

The worry about weapons breaking was mostly gone, and people could easily see why the price was worth it.

“5 trillion,”

John Harrison responded.

The Premier of China?

He wasn’t a threat to the President of the United States.

Instead, he tried to pressure his opponent by adding another 2 trillion. But John Harrison had missed one important thing.

John Harrison realized Wang Wiryong was not bidding with normal logic. This worried him.

“10 trillion.”

“Gasp!”

“10 trillion, really?”

It didn’t make sense.

After the Great Disaster, money became worth much less. But slowly, money started to become valuable again in this new world.

Now, like before, trillions were a huge amount. John Harrison couldn’t just say a price over 10 trillion without thinking carefully.

Roman Dmitry had already shown everyone the ‘mana crafting technology.’ So, spending 10 trillion just to get one S-grade weapon didn’t seem smart.

Even the advisors helping John Harrison couldn’t agree.

“We have to spend more, no matter what. Revolution is the best new technology, right?”

“No, we can’t. Spending too much will just make us look bad.”

“Look bad? This is important. China is trying to beat the United States by spending more money. What will people say if we give up now? They will laugh at us.”

“I understand. But we can’t just waste 10 trillion. Also, the auction has just started. It won’t stop at 10 trillion. How much more will we have to spend to beat Chairman Wang Wiryong, who really wants to win? I don’t know.”

Two different ideas.

They argued strongly.

Both ideas made sense.

The United States had said it would follow the Great Han Empire, but it wasn’t completely loyal.

It wanted to be the strongest country again. So, it needed to study the technology by winning the Revolution bid, thinking about the future.

Ten trillion was a good price to pay to get ahead, even a little. But Wang Wiryong looked very determined.

John Harrison spoke.

“Wang Wiryong really wants to win. If we are not ready to keep bidding until the end, we should give up now. If we lose after a big fight, we will look like losers. But if we stop at the right time, we will seem smart. Wang Wiryong really wants to win. If we keep bidding, we will lose a lot of money, even though both China and the US are rich.”

“I agree.”

He stopped bidding.

It was not clear why Wang Wiryong wanted it so badly.

Wang Wiryong’s actions didn’t make sense, but as the President of the United States, he couldn’t let his feelings control him.

It seemed like the contest was over.

Then, a man’s voice suddenly spoke.

“20 trillion.”

An extremely high price.

People gasped.

Even Wang Wiryong looked surprised and tried to see who was speaking.

A little while ago.

King Ahmed of Saudi Arabia had been watching with interest.

He was interested in Revolution, but he didn’t think he needed to spend a lot of money to buy it.

‘The important thing is that the Great Han Empire has created something new. Instead of wasting money on a contest, it would be better to use that money to become friends with the Great Han Empire. If we can learn the technology from them, we can become a strong country because we have money.’

He watched comfortably.

Then, when he wasn’t expecting it, Ahmed suddenly felt like he was being pulled into an unknown space.

Whoosh!

The world twisted.

The ceiling became the floor, and the floor became the ceiling.

Something started to appear in the complicated, twisted world.

“A long time ago, I won Blaze for 1200 gold. Do you think this sword is worth that much? If we’re just talking about how good the sword is, it’s not. Dmitry’s smithing technology is improving quickly. Now you can buy a sword that is just as good without paying 1200 gold. But I would never sell this sword, even if someone offered to buy it for 3000 gold, or even 5000 gold.”

Ahmed knew right away.

This was an awakening.

Awakenings happened in different ways for different people. Ahmed was getting transmission abilities through ‘memory transfer.’

He felt excited. He was just an ordinary person, or at least, someone who had lived as a rich person. He never thought he would experience the awakening of a successor.

“This sword has special meaning. It is the first sword that His Majesty released. Being the first to win it showed people that I was important. Back then, people were shocked that I paid 1200 gold. But now, it doesn’t seem like much. It shows that I can tell what is valuable. The things I have collected prove that I am capable. People try to impress me, even if they don’t have to. The choices that people didn’t understand mean that I am now making a lot of money without doing anything.”

The man’s identity.

It was Valentino, a famous businessman from the past.

Valentino smiled and said.

“And most of all, isn’t it beautiful? Those stupid people who can’t see this don’t deserve to make money. When I die, I want to build a big tomb and be buried with His Majesty’s collection. Grave robbers? I’ll ask Felix, a powerful magic user from the Magic Tower, to turn those sons of bitches into roasted chickens.”

Whoosh!

He was back in reality.

The ceiling was above him again, and the ground was below him.

He felt dizzy, but it seemed like only a short time had passed.

“5 trillion.”

“10 trillion.”

The auction was going strong.

People were watching the fight between the United States and China, wondering who would win.

Ahmed felt confused.

As he remembered the abilities he had inherited, he realized that he was different from those who usually inherited fighting skills.

He had an eye for seeing what was valuable. His view of the world had changed. Revolution, which had seemed like just a collection of technologies, now looked completely different.

‘Appraisal skill.’

The special meaning of being the first.

A great achievement that started a new era.

He felt greedy.

He was disgusted that he had almost let it pass by.

From then on, he made decisions based on instinct.

He wanted it badly and didn’t want to just watch anymore.

So.

“20 trillion.”

The auction had changed.

Wang Wiryong’s eyes narrowed, a tiny muscle twitching beside them. *The Sword of the Heavenly Demon.* The words echoed in his mind, fueling a burning desire. He *had* to win this auction.

But then, a new bid flashed on the screen: 20 trillion. Wang Wiryong’s breath hitched. He knew that name. ‘Ahmed?’ he thought, a cold feeling spreading in his chest. ‘It couldn’t be…’ But it was. Ahmed. From Saudi Arabia.

Ahmed was the King of Saudi Arabia, a nation already incredibly rich from oil. Even before the world changed – before the Great Cataclysm – their companies were the biggest and wealthiest on the planet. And the Cataclysm, instead of weakening them, had made them even stronger. They were smart, they were prepared, and they had found something new: a huge mine full of mana stones. People whispered that Saudi Arabia’s wealth was now beyond counting. In this new world, where both oil and mana stones were power, they were like a giant, impossible to defeat with money alone.

But… Wang Wiryong clenched his fists. *No.* He wouldn’t back down. Not now. Not ever.

“25 trillion!” he announced, his voice ringing out in the auction hall.

Wang Wiryong’s gaze locked onto Ahmed. He stared, hard and cold, trying to send a message: *Back down. Now.* He was reminding Ahmed, and everyone else, that Saudi Arabia, for all its money, was not as powerful as China. China could cause problems that even mountains of gold couldn’t fix. Wang Wiryong didn’t care if others thought he was being aggressive. He wanted the sword. Victory was all that mattered.

Wang Wiryong’s desire was a fierce fire, but Ahmed’s was a cold, unstoppable wave.

“30 trillion,” Ahmed said, his voice calm but firm.

Wang Wiryong stared, stunned. ‘This man is insane,’ he thought. He felt the weight of that number crush his own hopes. Looking at Ahmed, Wang Wiryong saw not just wealth, but something else in his eyes – a dangerous glint, a kind of wild focus he hadn’t expected. He had always heard Ahmed was careful, sensible with his vast fortune. But now, seeing him in this auction, facing his glare, Wang Wiryong understood he was wrong.

Actually, Ahmed wasn’t even looking at Wang Wiryong anymore. His gaze was fixed on the sword displayed on the stage. ‘It *is* beautiful,’ Ahmed thought, almost whispering to himself. He was completely lost in the sight of Revolution. It was said that some people had a special talent, like Dimitri’s family with their sword skills. Ahmed had something similar: “Valentino’s Eyes,” they called it – a natural gift for seeing the true value and beauty in objects. Looking at Revolution, this talent flared within him. A powerful urge took hold. He *had* to own it. It wasn’t just about money or power anymore. It was a deep, almost desperate need. He didn’t fully understand it himself, this “Valentino’s madness” – the same obsession that had driven a famous collector named Valentino to spend his life and fortune gathering treasures. Valentino had been caught in a cycle: earning money to buy collections, buying collections that made him need more money, and so on, always chasing the next beautiful object. This madness had made Valentino legendary. And now, Ahmed felt it taking hold of him too.

Ahmed’s bid changed everything. Wang Wiryong felt a cold wave of reality wash over him. His own fierce desire seemed to shrink in comparison to Ahmed’s unwavering focus. He knew, deep down, he couldn’t win. Xiaolong, his advisor, leaned in and spoke quietly, “My Lord, it’s clear King Ahmed truly wants this. We cannot outspend Saudi Arabia. It’s time to withdraw. Continuing would be foolish.”

Wang Wiryong bit down hard, his jaw tight. He could feel a sting behind his eyes. The Sword of the Heavenly Demon, so close he could almost touch it, was slipping away. This sword… it was more than just a weapon. It was a symbol of everything he had worked for, a dream he had chased for years. The thought of letting it go filled him with bitter resentment. He stood there, silent, for a long moment, the weight of defeat pressing down on him. Finally, he shook his head, a small, almost invisible movement. He was out.

Immediately, Kim Junhyuk’s voice boomed through the hall, “30 trillion! King Ahmed is the winner! Revolution is sold for 30 trillion!”

Wang Wiryong felt a deep ache of disappointment, a feeling he hoped never to experience again. He made a silent promise to himself: if he ever had another chance like this, he would be ready. He would win. Little did he know, this was not the end of his dealings with Ahmed. In fact, it was only the start of a long and complicated story between them.

First, Park Gwangdeok’s amazing presentation about mana weapons. Then, the breathtaking auction for Revolution. The audience was still buzzing with excitement when Kim Junhyuk stepped forward again. “Please remain seated,” he announced, his voice full of energy. “We are about to begin Part Two.” A murmur went through the crowd. Part Two? They had been so focused on the auction, they had almost forgotten there was more to come. Part One had been about technology. What could Part Two possibly be? The air crackled with curiosity. Everyone leaned forward, eyes glued to the stage.

Suddenly, a sound echoed through the hall – heavy footsteps, *thump, thump*. Heads turned. Whispers rippled through the audience. “Who is it?” “What’s happening?” A man walked onto the stage. It was someone many recognized. He moved to the center, a figure of quiet authority. He spoke, his voice clear and strong, silencing the murmurs. “Greetings,” he said. “I am Kim Panseok, the White-Robed Wizard.” He paused, letting the name sink in. “You are wondering, I know, what more we have to show you, after the wonders of mana weapons. Well, let me tell you.” Kim Panseok’s eyes shone with conviction. “Today,” he declared, “we will show you something that will change everything. Today, we reveal… real magic.”