DanKatsu Volume 3, Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Let’s Go See the Auction. Buy? You’re Crazy If You Think We’re Buying That!

After all the usual morning chaos, it was already ten o’clock.

Today was Sunday.

And Sunday meant one thing in <DanKatsu>: the weekly auction.

The auction wasn’t held in some grand concert-hall-like venue where people waved placards and shouted bids. That would’ve been more "otherworldly," sure, but <DanKatsu> was a game. Efficiency came first, so the auctions followed a net-auction format.

Well, there were single-auctions later on, but F-rank Guilds like us couldn’t even join—mostly because of the sheer amount of Miru required.

The actual setup was simple. A store in one corner of the Academy’s C-Street—lined with eateries and shops—served as the auction house. Nothing fancy on the outside. Inside, countless items were on display, each one paired with an ancient-looking artifact terminal.

All you had to do was punch in your bid, then wait until the end of Sunday. If you won, you paid and took the item home. Pretty standard stuff. They even had an auto-bid function, which was surprisingly handy.

Back when I was just a player, I almost never bought at auction—I only sold. Items listed there went for absurdly high prices. Buying meant watching your Miru vanish at multiples of the regular cost. Not something you could casually afford.

Unless you had a Merchant-type character bringing in solid profits, an F-rank guild messing around here was just asking for bankruptcy. Auctions were terrifying like that.

And yet… every now and then, items would appear that couldn’t be obtained anywhere else. Each time, players screamed, and wallets were emptied. I’d lost count of how many fortunes had been thrown at "that thing."

Rare items were the auction’s specialty. Miss a boss drop, or just unlucky? Players came here. Things like <Advanced Job Change Tickets> or <Door Keys> could be bought here—if you had the money.

That was the nature of <DanKatsu>: even the "important items" you’d normally pick up as part of a story in another RPG were locked behind boss drops. Which meant it was entirely possible to miss them. And for those without the time to endlessly grind bosses, the auction became their salvation.

A salvation, sure—but an expensive one.

Well, rely on it too much, and you’d be broke. Which was why players were expected to farm what they could on their own, and only use auctions for the absolute must-haves.

So much for the "buying" side of things.

On the "selling" side, though, auctions were invaluable. Sometimes your junk could go for multiples of its usual price.

There was one catch: you couldn’t list an unlimited number of items. Each guild rank had a weekly listing quota.

For example, an F-rank guild could only list one item per week. Rank up, and your quota went up by one.

Made sense—the auction wanted flashy, high-value items from strong guilds, not piles of low-rank trash. Nobody wanted to scroll through F-rank materials.

Imagine logging in only to find someone had listed <Giant Bear Anteater Pelt>. Who’d buy that? The campus store sold it sometimes anyway—at regular price, too.

And so, today, we were here to join the auction.

Our guild, <Eden>, had six members gathered: me, Hanna, Sierra, Lana, Lulu, and Celestan. Ester was off with Rika and Kalua, heading to a Beginner-level dungeon, so it was just us six stepping into the so-called "Oku-ba"—short for Auction Hall.

By the way, "Oku-ba" had two rival pronunciations among players. Some read it as okujō (屋上) (rooftop), others as okuba (奥歯) (molar), joking that the auction was full of hidden cavities ready to cause pain. Fitting, really.

"Is this really the auction hall? I was expecting something more… dramatic. Like raising placards or something. This just looks like a normal store."

As expected, Lana had pictured the single-auction format.

"They had to keep it this way; otherwise, dungeon progress would grind to a halt."

The place only opened on Sundays. Items had to be submitted by ten in the morning, so nobody knew what would appear until the day itself.

If it had been a live-bid format, players would’ve camped here all day, terrified of missing something, and nobody would be clearing dungeons. To prevent that, the devs added the auto-bid feature.

Basically, you input your maximum bid, and the system automatically counters other bids up to your cap—without overspending. That way, you could set it in the morning and then go dungeon diving without worrying.

It was efficient. Players could maximize their dungeon time.

Honestly, I kind of wish they’d let us access auctions through the student handbook (smartphones). That way we could just… well, no, that’s me being greedy.

Still, seeing it in person, I had to admit auto-bid felt a little… sterile.

I wanted to raise a placard and win with a flourish, just once.

Well, someday. When <Eden> had enough Miru to risk it. For now, a single live auction would bankrupt us.

"Zephyrus-kun, are you sure this price is right? It looks like they added an extra zero by mistake."

Hanna tilted her head in front of one display and turned to ask me.

"It’s right. Auction prices tend to balloon like that. That’s the whole point—they’re filled with rare materials, boss drops, and crafted items you’d never see otherwise."

"Hohee. Then… can I put up something I’ve alchemized?"

"Well, that’s still a ways off. But yeah, if you made an item using materials from an Advanced-level dungeon, it’d probably fetch a ridiculous price."

"Advanced-level dungeon materials, huh~…"

Hanna looked back at the price tag, her eyes practically turning into gleaming Miru.

Not that she’d get to pocket all of it, even if it sold. We’d already decided on some new guild rules for managing funds. I’d explain it to her later.

"Lord Zephyrus, the listing process is complete."

"Thanks, Celestan. You really helped us out."

He’d come here a bit earlier to take care of the listing. Now, in the display case, our item was being set out: a <Large Magic Gem—Topaz>.

The starting bid was one hundred thousand Miru, about a tenth of the standard price.

Now we just had to see how far it would climb. Hopefully past a million, at least.

"Ha-waah! Love!"

As I was thinking that, Lulu suddenly let out a cry and dashed toward the case, her footsteps practically making te-te-te sound effects. What's going on?

She stopped in front of our guild’s listing. No way—did our <Large Magic Gem—Topaz> happen to strike a chord with her? Now that I thought about it, I’d never actually shown her the real thing. Could it be she actually wanted it?

"This plushie radiates love!"

…Nope. Totally wrong. Apparently, there was an adorable stuffed toy sitting just beneath the <Large Magic Gem—Topaz>. Lulu was captivated by that.

Another plushie, huh? Figures. As expected of our self-proclaimed stuffed-animal connoisseur.

By the way, I’d finally started to catch on—when Lulu said "love," she usually meant "it’s cute" or "something to adore." Sometimes she meant actual love, but I still didn’t have the experience to always tell the difference.

"Zephyrus Onii-sama! I want this! I’ll love it! Please, can I have it?"

"Hmm? Wait—that’s…!"

"What’s wrong, Zephyrus-kun?" 

Hanna asked, seeing me choke on my words as Lulu pointed at a pair of plushies.

That’s when it hit me. This was the auction hall. There was no way an ordinary plush toy would just be sitting here.

The so-called "plushie filled with love" Lulu had found… was anything but innocent.

It was a pair of dolls embracing each other—one with a halo above its head and angel wings on its back, the other sporting bat wings on both head and back.

They weren’t just plushies.

They were the <Plushies of Heaven and Hell>—key items used to unlock the "Angel" and "Demon" races.

I glanced at the hopeful Lulu, then shook my head.

"One hundred million miru… there’s no way we can afford that. Not yet."

The plushies Lulu had found—the <Plushies of Heaven and Hell>—were a rare drop from an Intermediate-level dungeon boss.

Which explained the price tag: one hundred million miru.

We hadn’t even cleared the Beginner Upper-tier dungeons yet.

Buying that would bankrupt us. Terrifying.

"So… we can’t buy it?"

"Yeah. Not yet. Honestly, F-rank guilds like us aren’t meant to be buyers. That sort of thing is for at least D-rank."

E-rank could technically try, sure, but the cost was so crushing that it would stall progress. You’d end up running dungeons over and over just to scrape by. If you wanted to advance efficiently, this wasn’t the place to splurge.

Besides, we already had a <Rare Monster Flute (For Boss)>.

Hunting the drop ourselves would be far more efficient.

The plushies at auction were meant for players who couldn’t get the drop and had no choice but to progress to the Advanced-level without it—not something you bought in the Beginner-level. And if you pulled a duplicate later, you’d want to cry. After all, both "Angel" and "Demon" races were limited to recruiting just one member each.

So, for now, we’d pass.

Still, it was good to see it.

Nothing beats the thrill of a real, physical item. Unlike the flat images in-game, the three-dimensional form had a magic of its own.

"Too bad," Lulu murmured, glancing back at the display case.

…That was surprisingly reasonable of her. I’d expected more whining. Curious, I asked,

"You’re fine with not getting it?"

"It’s fine. Plushies are for loving, not collecting. Of course, I’d love to keep it close if I could, but even from afar, I can still feel its love."

Her own little philosophy, huh?

I’d noticed back when we were at the guild, too—Lulu never insisted she had to own every plush she saw. She often begged, sure, but at her core, plushies were something to adore, not hoard.

As expected of a self-proclaimed stuffed-animal enthusiast, she had her own convictions. I liked that. Conviction is a good thing.

After that, we all walked around the auction hall.

Even though I’d seen most of these items on a game screen before, seeing them in real life in this world had me buzzing with excitement.

Lana and Hanna seemed just as hyped, running from case to case, asking for explanations. I happily indulged them, drawing on my encyclopedic <DanKatsu> knowledge.

"You really are disgustingly well-informed. Where do you even stash all this trivia?"

"Impressive. At this rate, my position as butler may be in danger."

Sierra and Celestan followed at a polite distance, but their eyes sparkled with interest. You two want <DanKatsu> lore too?

Go ahead, ask me anytime! Then let the knowledge drag you down into the depths! Fuhahaha!

At one point, Lulu went missing. Turned out she was still glued to that first display case, so Sierra had to go retrieve her. Just how much did this girl love plushies?

Honestly, other customers spent more time watching Lulu than looking at the items. The last time I checked, our <Topaz> was still sitting at its starting bid of one hundred thousand. …Should I be worried?

Then Lana made her own scene.

"Zephyrus! This! This is the one! I want it, we’re buying it!"

"Eighty… eight million miru…" Hanna read the tag aloud in shock.

"Denied. If you want it, buy it yourself. You’re a princess, aren’t you?"

"Don’t assume princesses are rich!"

"Why are you bragging at a time like this?"

Rejected on the spot, Lana pouted, arms crossed. Apparently, the princess didn’t actually have much Miru.

Can’t say I was surprised. If I were the king, I wouldn’t hand her that kind of pocket money either.

For a moment, I felt an odd sense of kinship with a monarch I hadn’t even met. (Total illusion, of course.)

After those little incidents, our auction-house tour wrapped up without issue.

Naturally, there was nothing we could afford, so it was all window-shopping this time.

"Learn anything, Sierra?"

"Yes. It was fascinating. Once our guild rank goes up, we’ll be able to attend the single-auctions too, right?"

"Yeah. They only happen once a month, but they’re real—single-auction events. Only rare items from Intermediate-level dungeons and above are allowed. The closing bids are… well, insane every time."

"Oh? Then I’ll look forward to it."

Seriously, though.

Looks like Sierra really enjoyed the auction.

If I’m not careful, she might bankrupt herself, so I’d better sit her down and talk about that later.

Back at the guild, I decided to continue adjusting our statuses from yesterday.

I’d been meaning to do it ever since we got back from the <Lesser Wolf Shallow Forest Dungeon>, but between lack of time and being tied up with the new members, I hadn’t gotten around to it.

Since today’s dungeon run is really off the table and I’ve got some free time, now’s the perfect chance.

Ester isn’t here, but I’ll have her do it once she’s back.

"I was just about to hit the cap! I’m 【Saint Lv32】 now! Zephyrus, don’t you have anything to say about that!?"

"Ah, yeah, that’s a pretty high level~. Oh, I’m 【Hero Lv34】, by the way."

"Hey, that’s way too casual! You should be praising me properly! I’m a princess and a 【Saint】, you know!"

…She really doesn’t act like a 【Saint】 at all.

I was half-hoping her personality would start feeling more saintly as her level went up, but so far, not a single trace of that. She’s just the same old Lana.

"We’re all about the same, aren’t we? I’m 【Shield Princess Lv32】. Ester said she hit 32 yesterday too."

"Wowww, that’s amazing, everyone! Lulu still doesn’t even have a proper job, you know?"

"Then I can’t slack off either, can I?"

"Exactly, Celestan. If you laze around in this guild, you’ll be left behind in no time. Well, don’t worry—I’ll make sure to help you level up so that doesn’t happen."

"That’s reassuring to hear."

Celestan, who had only been Lv2 until yesterday, was smiling as usual, but there was a flicker of panic in his eyes, so I promised him my support.

Still, I want him to wait just a bit.

Ranking up to E-rank takes priority right now, so grinding levels for the new members will have to come later.

Well, I’ll at least teach them the method, so they can practice on their own for now.

"I reached 【Alchemist Lv35】, but… are you sure it’s okay not to put any points in?"

"Yeah. Hanna, just save your SP for when your third-tier tree unlocks. For now, focus your stats on RES."

"Alright, got it."

At this rate, Hanna’s probably going to be the first first-year to unlock her third-tier skill tree. That might stir up some waves, but… yeah. She’s better off not knowing that.

I went around checking everyone’s status and giving advice as needed.

By late afternoon, Ester and the others returned, so I gave them guidance as well.

Man, things are getting pretty busy.

Kinda reminds me of the <DanKatsu> days back in the game.

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