<h4>Chapter 39: He’s the buyer</h4>


    "And we have a volunteer!" the auctioneer announced, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. He was pleased with the recent development and even happier that it was a person of prestige. Although he knew the guy was too yful and rarely serious with his life—unless he had something important at stake—the auctioneer weed the opportunity. "Pleasee up to the stage, Mr. Alistair."


    The hall fell into a hushed silence as Alistair climbed onto the stage, his usual yful demeanor reced by one of his most serious looks. The spotlight followed him, casting a sharp glow on his tailored suit and polished shoes. At the same time, Joe, seated at their table, switched his phone to video mode and began to record, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.


    "Mr. Alistair, before you shake my hand, I’d like you to tell the audience one thing rted to entertainment that you would never do, even if you’re offered money for it," the auctioneer requested, his tone light but probing.


    "Sing," Alistair revealed without hesitation. "I’m terrible at it," he added.


    From the audience, Joe couldn’t resist chiming in. "Especially love songs! He will never do it!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the hall and drawing a few chuckles from the crowd.


    "Nobody asked you," Alistair shot back, his tone dry but good-natured. A roaringugh erupted from Joe, and the tension in the room eased slightly.


    The auctioneer raised a hand to quiet the audience. "A note to the audience: this is a demonstration. Whatever Mr. Alistair does after shaking my hand is done under the influence of the glove and not of his free will," he rified, his tone firm and professional. He wanted to dispel any potential misunderstandings before proceeding. Turning his full attention back to Alistair, he extended his hand. "Go ahead and shake my hand, Mr. Alistair."


    Alistair didn’t hesitate before gripping the auctioneer’s outstretched hand. At first, he felt nothing unusual—no tingling, no sudden rush of energy. But after a few exchanges of pleasantries with the man, something shifted. Instructions suddenly dropped into his mind, clear andmanding, apanied by an overwhelming desire toplete them at all costs. It was as if an invisible force had taken hold of him, guiding his actions.


    As soon as the auctioneer released his hand, Alistair moved. The audience watched in stunned silence as he walked to a different VIP table. Without a word, he knelt down and kissed the feet of one of the upants, a wealthy socialite who looked both shocked and amused. The room erupted in murmurs, but Alistair didn’t stop there. He moved to another table, where he grabbed one of the men by the shoulders, causing the man to flinch and nearly jump out of his seat.


    "Rx, it’s only a neck massage," the auctioneer chimed in, his voice calm and amused. He could see the man was about to react defensively, and he didn’t want the demonstration to escte into chaos.


    The man rxed after that, though his expression remained wary. Alistair, acting on the instructions embedded in his mind, gave him a ten-second neck massage, his movements precise and deliberate. The absurdity of the situation wasn’t lost on the audience, and a few stifledughs could be heard.


    A chuckle escaped Joe as he continued to record, his phone steady in his hand. "Alistair will kill himself after seeing what he just did," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.


    "He’s got eight million. That’s enoughpensation," Lucian added dryly, a smirk settling on his face. He leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the spectacle.


    After the massage session ended, Alistair walked toward the stage and asked for a mic.


    "No way!" Joeughed out loud, his voice carrying across the hall. "No way he’s going to sing. I mean, the kiss and the massage are enough proof that the glove is working. If Alistair sings, I’m going to cry for him."


    A mic was handed to Alistair, and he proceeded toward his table, his movements deliberate and purposeful.


    "Wait, he’sing this way. Why is heing this way?" Joe asked, his voice tinged with confusion and amusement.


    "So you can capture his face properly," Lucian added, his toneced with dry humor. Despite the absurdity of the situation, he found the entire thing amusing. Still, the severity of the fact that a mind-control glove was in existence—and about to end up in the possession of one of the people seated there—wasn’t lost on him.


    Alistair stopped moving when he reached a point where he could see Lucian properly. Thetter, along with everyone in the hall, anticipated that he would start singing. But Alistair didn’t start immediately. Instead, he took a deep breath and began speaking.


    "This is a special rendition from my heart to you, Lucian," Alistair uttered, and Joe burst outughing, his shoulders shaking with mirth. Lucian frowned, but that didn’t stop Alistair frompleting his pre-song speech. The most amusing thing was how unaffected he was by Joe’sughter and theughter of others echoing around him. "Our love is the best thing that has happened to me, and I want to express it today in song form."


    Serena didn’t know what to feel about what was happening. It was amusing, no doubt, and Joe’sughter wasn’t helping. Hisughter could make an embarrassed personmit suicide.


    She was trying to be modest, keeping a small smile on her face, but all that changed when she turned her head to look at the person Alistair was confessing his love to. A peal ofughter escaped her lips when she saw Lucian’s face. His expression was a mixture of horror and fury, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack. If looks could kill, Alistair would be dead already, no doubt.


    After the short confession, the music began. A soft, romantic melody filled the room, and Alistair took a deep breath beforeunching into his performance.


    <i>"My love for you is like a butterfly," </i>


    The first line of the song dropped out of Alistair’s mouth, and Joe, together with the audience, burst into a fresh round ofughter.


    Alistair’s voice was croaky andpletely off-tune, but that didn’t stop him from pouring his heart into the performance. His facial expressions and body movements were so exaggerated that they delivered the message perfectly. If the people didn’t already know that he was under the influence of something, they would have believed he was truly in love with Lucian.


    <i>"So beautiful that I just wanna cry, </i>


    <i>The thing we have is true, I’ll never try </i>


    To change a thing, our love will never die."


    The music continued, and Lucian shifted his deadly gaze to the auctioneer, seeing how the man was enjoying himself. He immediately knew the man had a problem with him. First, it was asking Serena to volunteer, and now he had controlled Alistair to sing for him. This was personal.


    The music soon ended, and Alistair returned to the stage to hand back the mic. As soon as he did that, he snapped out of the force that had initially held him down. He blinked a few times, as if waking from a dream, and then wore a frown as he looked at the auctioneer. "You were saying?"


    "I said thank you very much, Mr. Alistair. You can now return to your seat."


    "What about the demonstration?" Alistair probed, his voice tinged with confusion. He recalled that was the reason he was there in the first ce.


    "It’s been done. Please return to your seat."


    Confused, Alistair returned to the table, and although theughter had ceased, he couldn’t mistake that mischievous smile on Joe’s face. "Tell me I did not just embarrass myself," Alistair said, his voice low and urgent.


    "Embarrass?" Joe asked, then let out a "Pff... You only gave a great speech. No worries, I’ll show you the video when we’re out of here."


    The auctioneer retrieved the wristband from his assistant and reattached it to his wrist, making the once-invisible glove visible again for easy removal. When he returned it to the box, he turned to address the audience.


    "To provideplete anonymity to our final buyer, we have provided a special tablet for this very auction. Please input your names in the space provided." The auctionmenced, and the eager audience moved toplete the process.


    "This shouldn’t have been done anonymously. I really want to know who would end up buying that glove so I can avoid shaking that person in the future," Joemented, voicing exactly what was on Serena’s mind.


    After what she had just witnessed happening to Alistair, she knew she wouldn’t want to be in that position. But there was nothing anyone could do. The council wanted the buyer to be anonymous, and they had put in the effort to ensure it was so.


    What they didn’t consider was that someone with super hearing would be present at the auction.


    With the sudden urge to know the end buyer of the glove, Serena’s hearing grew sharper and more heightened. It was strange how every changed in a matter of seconds and every little sound became audible. But she refused to panic because Marlowe had told her about it already, instead, she used it to her advantage.


    She soon realized that the tablets gave off a faint vibrating sound with every tap. Also, she could hear multiple vibrations from all around her as the people inputted their names.


    The auctioneer opened the bid at a whopping fifteen million dors, and it continued to rise until it reached one hundred million. At that point, everything slowed down.


    Having identified the person who bid one hundred million, Serena thought it would close at that amount, but someone started typing on their tablet, and her eyes moved instantly to search for the person.


    "And we have one hundred and fifty million dors," the auctioneer announced. "Going once..."


    Another typing began, and Serena’s eyes went to work once more. She continued the process until she caught sight of thest person who bid four hundred million.


    "Four hundred million, going once...


    Going twice...


    Sold."


    Serena tapped Lucian, gesturing for him toe closer so she could whisper what she wanted to say.


    "Who’s the bald man in the grey suit, fourth table to the right after ours?" she asked, her voice low but clear enough for only his ears.


    Lucian discreetly followed her description, despite wondering why she was asking. His gaze finallynded on the person she was asking about.


    "His name is Bonnie. He’s a politician. What happened to him?" Lucian probed after telling her who the person was.


    "He’s the buyer," Serena revealed, and a look of surprise registered on Lucian’s face, which he quickly masked.