Solo Leveling: Monarch of Knowledge (What If)

(Saturday, June 15, 2026 – 11:48 PM)

The night was alive with quiet wealth. A row of black cars lined the entrance, their doors opening to reveal men and women draped in expensive suits and gowns, their masks concealing identities yet flaunting status. The glow of chandeliers from within the grand auction hall spilled onto the marble steps, illuminating the discreet but ever-present security stationed at every corner.

I walked toward the entrance, my own attire blending seamlessly into the crowd, a tailored black suit, a sleek mask covering my face, a single silver question mark etched into its surface. My posture was relaxed, confident, as if I had done this a hundred times before.

'Begin.'

[Understood.]

The change was instant. My steps became soundless. Behind the mask, my facial features shifted subtly, my hair turned to an unassuming brown, my eyes a neutral gray. Even my build adjusted slightly, enough to throw off anyone trying to match me to a known profile.

At the same time, I felt it, a complete erasure of my presence.

[All forms of x-ray vision, mana detection, and tracking abilities are now blocked. No known system will register your true identity.]

I barely nodded, stepping forward just as a tall, broad-shouldered bodyguard extended a hand, blocking my path. His gaze was sharp despite the professional blankness in his expression.

"Invitation."

I reached into my coat and pulled out a sleek black card, handing it over.

The guard scanned it, verifying the authenticity. The seconds stretched, but I remained patient. This part was already handled.

The invite had cost a small fortune, but money had never been the problem.

I had plenty of it.

And none of it was clean.

From the moment I started siphoning funds from criminals and corrupt organizations, I knew raw, stolen money wouldn't get me far. Digital footprints, flagged transactions, traced withdrawals, if I had been careless, it would have all collapsed before it even started.

So, I had done what every intelligent criminal did. I laundered it.

It started in pieces, small, scattered transfers routed through offshore accounts, exchanged into different currencies, split, and rerouted again. Some of it went into shell companies, fake businesses with just enough presence to appear legitimate. The rest passed through crypto tumblers, private exchanges, and back-alley brokerage firms that specialized in making money disappear before reappearing as something new.

Then came the reinvestments, stocks, real estate flips, art trades, even minor tech startups that never actually built anything. All legal on the surface, but just obscure enough to justify large cash movements.

By the time I touched the money again, it wasn't stolen funds. It was old wealth.

It allowed me to buy the land. The car. This invite.

And I hated it.

The process was efficient. Practical. Necessary.

But every transaction left a bitter taste in my mouth. It wasn't my money. It was bloodstained wealth, taken from people who had built empires off the suffering of others.

I had no guilt about taking it from them. But using it still felt wrong.

The scanner beeped, flashing green.

The guard nodded, returning my invite before stepping aside. "Enjoy the auction."

I walked past him without a word, stepping through the entrance into the grand hall.

Whatever discomfort I felt over my finances could wait.

Tonight, I wasn't here to reflect.

I was here to see what power looked like when it was sold to the highest bidder.

....

(11:52 PM)

The grand auction hall stretched before me, a masterpiece of wealth and secrecy. Ornate chandeliers bathed the space in warm light, casting reflections off polished marble floors. Rows of velvet-lined seats faced an elevated stage, where a pristine protective glass case stood, ensuring the safety of the high-value items before they were sold.

I walked with measured steps, blending into the sea of masked guests. Behind their facades, powerful hunters, guild leaders, private collectors, and shadowy figures had gathered, all prepared to spend fortunes for an edge in this world.

'It's exactly as expected.'

[All observations match your research. No irregularities detected so far.]

I glanced at the protective glass encasing the first set of items on display. B to S-Rank weapons, armor, and rare artifacts, all infused with mana. Even the lowest-grade swords here would cost millions.

And for good reason.

In this world, weapons weren't just tools. They were survival.

Unlike in my past life, firearms held no value here. No one had ever found a way to integrate mana with bullets or modern technology. Every attempt to fuse monster materials with guns had failed, leaving cold weapons as the only viable choice.

Blades, spears, gauntlets, bows, crafted from dungeon resources, forged by specialized artisans, and infused with raw mana.

The best equipment could amplify a hunter's power, compensate for weaknesses, or turn a losing battle into a victory. A poor-quality weapon, on the other hand, could mean death.

That was why people were willing to spend absurd amounts of money here.

But buying something didn't guarantee keeping it.

The Hunter Association headquarters had a standing security agreement with the auction. As long as an item was still on display, it was protected. If anyone so much as cracked the glass, elite HA members would intervene immediately.

But once an item was sold and left the premises?

It was a free-for-all.

Buyers were responsible for their own safety. If someone wanted to steal their purchase, they either had to defend it themselves or hire protection.

'Money alone isn't enough to walk away with power.'

[Correct. Wealth provides access, but strength is what ensures ownership.]

My eyes scanned the other guests. Some sat relaxed, sipping on imported drinks as if this was just another social event. Others were tense, their postures guarded, watching their surroundings with suspicion.

It wasn't paranoia. It was reality.

Some of these people would leave tonight empty-handed.

Others might not leave at all.

I found my seat near the middle of the hall.

(11:57 PM)

I glanced upwards, past the sea of masked guests seated around me, toward the private balconies.

That was where the real players sat.

Behind tinted glass and heavy curtains, the true influential figures observed the auction in comfort, away from the restless crowd below. Guild masters, underground leaders, independent S-Rank hunters, and those with power beyond just wealth.

Unlike the guests on the main floor, they didn't need to flaunt their presence. Their existence alone demanded respect.

'How many of them are masking their mana?' I asked.

[In the entire building, 34 individuals are falsifying their rank.]

I almost whistled at that number.

[Three of them are confirmed S-Rank. The rest range from B to A-Rank, disguising themselves for various reasons. Based on their genetic makeup, posture, and micro-expressions, at least five of them have intentions beyond simple bidding.]

'So, troublemakers.'

[Highly probable.]

I exhaled through my nose, laughing internally.

'So, I'm really risking my life here, huh?'

[Not if you succeed.]

Her response was immediate, factual.

[If you get your hands on an S-Rank Essence Stone, your limitations will be removed. The moment you awaken with one, no one inside this building will be able to stop you.]

I smiled slightly beneath my mask. 'I just need to touch it.'

[Correct.]

I leaned back in my chair, casually crossing my legs. If there were three false S-Ranks, then there had to be some licensed ones here too.

'How many licensed S-Ranks are present?'

[Two.]

Not a surprising number. Licensed S-Rank hunters were rare. Not just in Italy, but globally. If they were here, it meant two things: they had something to gain, or something to lose.

My eyes flickered across the crowd. Hundreds of hunters. Dozens of high-profile figures. Each one with their own motives.

'Did you find anything interesting?' I asked. 'Any cool abilities?'

[One.]

I raised an eyebrow. 'Just one?'

[A unique healing-type ability.]

I almost scoffed. 'That's it?'

[Everything else is within expected parameters. Standard elemental affinities, reinforced bodies, mana manipulation, and minor enhancements.]

I hummed in thought. It made sense.

People loved to romanticize hunters with unique, one-in-a-million abilities, but the reality was much simpler. The most common powers revolved around elemental control, enhanced strength, speed, and durability.

A true outlier was rare.

But if even one existed here, it meant there could be more.

I rested my chin on my hand, waiting for the auction to begin.