Hugh pointed at Frank as he snapped, "Who do you think you are, Frank?! Every item presented here would've been appraised by a specialist. There is no way my vase is a fake! Or perhaps you think you're better than the appraiser Mr. Pearce invited?!"

"Hmph."

An elderly white haired man snorted audibly from the front row.

He was the appraiser Gene invited and a famous magister on the east coast.

Since he appraised every auction item before it was brought on stage while he stated an estimated value, Frank's loud protest was undoubtedly a slap to his face.

"Son, I'm Tet Boran of Ysalin, and everyone addresses me as a magister. I have seen that pure jade vase with my own eyes-there's no faking it! If you're trying to cause trouble, you've picked the wrong opponent!"

"What?! That's Magister Boran?!"

"That's Gene Pearce for you. He invited a magister!"

The man in white's words left everyone in shock-the man knew his antiques and modern articles, and was himself an elite martial artist well-versed in mysticism.

It was said that a businessman who had suffered endless losses made some changes to his ancestral graves at Tet's suggestion, and hit it rich by the next year.

No one could say what principles were at work, but the rich tended to get superstitious. That was how Tet secured a strong reputation and earned the good graces of many.

In fact, it was under Tet's advice that Gene had bought plenty of property all the way in Zamri and brought him to Frank by chance.

It counted as another feather on Tet's cap, which was why Gene held him in such high esteem.

Naturally, it was an awkward situation for Gene when Frank suddenly questioned Tet's ability in appraisal.

On one side was a magister he could not afford to insult, while the other man was his guardian angel.

If he spoke up just then and messed up, it would leave a bad impression either way.

Fortunately for him, Frank kept

things short and pointed at a small crack at the vase pedestal, asking quietly, "Since you call yourself an appraiser, why don't you look closely at this crack?"

"Hmph!"

Tet chuckled coldly. "I've seen it. It's absolutely common for a vase as old as this one to have cracks."

"True." Frank nodded but soon

added, "But if you look at it with a magnifying glass, you will notice a little inconsistency within that half millimeter crack. It's clearly a counterfeit, forged with grafting!"

"What?!"

Tet sprang to his feet at Frank's words, staring at Frank in disbelief.

Frank's tone was confident and showed no hints of indecision.

In fact, Tet was narrowing his eyes as he noticed that Frank was different just then.

As a martial artist himself, he could not sense Frank's pure vigor, but there was just something fundamentally different about the kid.

He appeared as if he had

transcended beyond earthliness. It

was as if Tet was looking at one of

the best of Draconia, feeling the

f.n

same unstoppable presence they seemed to carry with their

O

boundless vigor.

All Frank did was stand there, but anyone closing their eyes to feel him could sense the danger he embodied.

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