On the auction stage, the girl looked utterly embarrassed.

For every item she’d introduced earlier, the response hadn’t been great—but at least there’d been *some* applause. This time? Cold, indifferent faces filled the audience seats.

No help for it. With zero cooperation, she had to push through the act alone.

"Thank you all for your enthusiastic support! Let’s begin! First up—the appearance!"

(lll￢ω￢)

Silence. Still nothing from the crowd.

Her face burned as if feverish. Flustered, she channeled mana into the stage’s Spirit Card Slot, projecting an enlarged image of the Spirit Card.

"Everyone, please look! This… this Spirit Card’s appearance… is… quite… *unique*."

Finally, a reaction—but roaring laughter erupted.

"Hahahaha! *Unique*! Ugly-unique!"

"Give her a raise! Smooth talker! Boss, add a chicken leg to her dinner!"

"Your wording’s legendary! Sending heart hands!" (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Tears welled at the corners of her eyes. She clenched empty fists beneath her nose, sniffled hard twice, and barely held back a sob.

Chris laughed until tears streamed down his face, wiping his eyes. (つ∀･)

"What a talent! She should switch to comedy—guaranteed sold-out shows!"

Meanwhile, backstage, Favna snapped, "What is this?! How did *this* Spirit Card end up here?!"

The staff member shrank back. "President… we couldn’t find a tenth worthy item. I thought it was… *unconventional*… so I brought it."

"*You’re* the unconventional one!" Favna huffed, chest heaving. "We’d cancel the auction before deceiving customers! Even if we can’t beat Chris Guild on goods, we won’t stoop to shame! How do we earn trust after this? Unforgivable!"

On stage, the girl steeled herself and moved on.

"Now… let’s test its performance."

A square iron testing block rose nearby. Reluctantly, she inserted the card into the Spirit Card Slot.

Orange light flowed down her arm, gathering before her palm to form a large bow woven in yellow and orange. The bow itself wasn’t bad—but messy feather-like ornaments dangled from its body, eyesores that ruined its look.

Laughter swelled again. Mocking the designer’s bizarre taste, even Chris slapped his thigh, giggling like a balding man in his forties.

Only the Spirit Glyphsmith paused, then frowned.

*Feathers seem useless… but a Glyphsmith never adds pointless details—they’d only complicate crafting.*

*Indoors now… but outdoors?*

*Exactly! They sway with the wind—effortlessly showing wind resistance for precise shots. And in a breeze? Those spread feathers would actually make it look cool!*

*Brilliant design…*

Chris noticed his expression. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing. Overthinking. Just coincidence. It’s only a beginner Spirit Card."

On stage, the girl reluctantly drew the bow. The string glowed faintly.

*Whoosh!*

Diamond-shaped beams shot out, embedding shallowly near the iron block.

The block’s internal Spirit Card flashed a floating number:

**"12"**

"Hahahaha! *Twelve*?! Is this even a weapon?! Beginner cards hit 60–70! This is *twelve*?! Ahahahaha!"

Chris squealed with delight: "I’m buying it! Must buy it! Such trash—it’s a *miracle* in the Spirit Card world!"

Even the reluctant joined the laughter.

No one noticed: mana arrows should vanish after impact without sustained mana. Yet these remained embedded.

Numb with shame, the girl continued in a trembling, broken voice:

"As you see… the bow’s power…"

*BOOM!*

Before she finished, the arrows blazed and exploded. Floor splinters and wind blasted outward. She screamed, crouched with hands over her head. The audience jerked back in panic.

The blast faded instantly.

Silence.

The iron block was dented, splinters jammed deep into its surface. The floating number had changed:

**"116"**

Three simple digits.

The entire hall fell dead silent.

Chris’s words had come true.

They had witnessed a miracle.