A pot belly owner stands behind the counter checking out some scantily clad girls online. The doorbell twinkles as the door front door opened signaling a potential buyer. He hurriedly glances up with his face paling suddenly at the tall, suave woman with an iceberg expression that is rapidly approaching him. Nervously he wipes his sweating face and says, “Um, how can I help you today?”

 “I’m here to speak to the owner about the purchase of this auction house,” the woman matter-of-factly states as the owner motions for her to have a seat on a suspiciously stained chair. The woman pointedly declines as she remains standing.

The owner perks up and says, “That would be me. Are you Miss Reed the potential Buyer of this pathetic-, I mean, this successful enterprise? Sorry, I must be tired, I say strange things at times,” he smiled nervously trying to seem sincere.

 “Yes, but I must admit I am surprised that it is being sold,” The woman truthfully said as she narrows her eyes at the perverted little man openly eyeing her chest.

The portly man shrugs, “Nah, it was my old mans. I am merely keeping the shop going for old times sakes. Now then shall we get down to business?” The owner said as his he rubbed his hands eagerly together.

 “Yes, I reviewed the list of items for sale and the property value. $5 million is my offer,” the woman firmly said as she crosses her arms over her chest.

The owner shakes his head as his double chins shake unhappily. “This property is prime placement even if it’s worn down. Including the items and license, $20 million and not a dime less,” the portly owner said as he angrily furrowed his brows.

 Before the woman can retort with a reply, the front door rings as they both turn around to see to nicely dressed men carrying briefcases. The portly man smiles upon recognizing his lawyer in a white immaculate suit as the woman merely nods at her lawyer in a tailored black suit.

 “We were just commencing negotiations,” the portly man said.

 His lawyer faintly smiles and extends his hand out to the buyer. The woman doesn’t react as his hand remains outstretched awkwardly before he takes his hand back. Her lawyer hides his smile unsurprised by the action. Still smiling the portly man’s lawyer says, “I’m Mr. White, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Reed. Mr. Noir and I are already familiar with each other.”

“Indeed, we are,” Mr. Noir replied.

“Now what was the proposed offer?” Mr. White asked.

 “5 million and not a dollar more,” Mr. Noir confidently stated.

“And on what basis? The property value alone is worth more that amount not including the auction items and license,” Mr. White retorted back.

 Mr. Noir takes out a folder and hands it over. Mr. White swiftly takes it and glances at the contents. His brows furrow with annoyance and finally resignation. Mr. White nods back and hands the folder back. “We’ll accept the deal provided the payment is wired today.”

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“Done,” Mr. Noir promptly says as the portly man is left bewildered. Before he can protest his lawyer pointedly whispers into his ear the contents of the folder. The portly man trembles and gulps as he eyes the evil woman before him.

Mr. White takes out the documents and ownership from his briefcase. The portly man’s phone rings with a notification as he and his lawyer glance at the phone. The owner smiles gleefully at seeing the amount deposited into his bank account.

Mr. White promptly hands over the documents to Mr. Noir, who readily takes them to confirm the veracity. Satisfied, he hands over the deeds of the building, the land itself, and the auction house license to his employer.

Miss Reed calmly accepts the documents as Mr. Noir turns towards his rival, Mr. White. “It was a pleasure doing business with you again,” Mr. Noir confidently said.

 Mr. White snorts and competitively says, “You won this round, you won’t win the next.”

Mr. Noir nods thoughtfully at his nemesis’s words but closes his briefcase shut, before walking out of the store to file the final papers and prove that the transaction did occur. Mr. White trails slowly after as he follows in his employer’s wake.

A cold voice behind them causes them to halt, “The keys.”

 The pudgy man guiltily takes out a ring of keys and drops them onto the floor. Mr. White smiles apologetically at the woman. The woman doesn’t’ move as the portly owner swiftly waddles away as Mr. White ruefully follows.

 The woman sighs as she picks up the keys and studies the building. “Now, the hard part begins.” Locking the door and pulling down the window shades, Izo rolls up her sleeves and begins to chant. Being a hermit had not only taught her to use mana and gain mage skills but had taught her a trick or two. Using single chant, she combines two spells, “Iemlo ‘t terra om eni.”

 Five exact clones appear beside her as the floor in the store cracks as ten impossibly tall and smooth stone figures emerge from the broken floor. The stone golems immediately begin to move as the clones of herself give directions. The creatures grunt and move to comply as they expand into the ground down below.

Hours later Izo wipes the sweat off her exhausted face. The large amount of mana she had used up had certainly tired her out. It had been a while since she had used so much mana at once. With a motion of her hand, the last of the golems turn to dust as her clones disperse soundlessly into thin air.

The entire purpose of the golems was to create underground floors. The above grounds floors and first two underground levels remodeling would have to be paid for, seeing as she had no knowledge of plumbing and electric wiring. Golems are only as clever as their master and sadly, Izo only had the equivalent of a high school education. And even if she possessed even further academic knowledge, most university students know nothing about electric wiring or plumbing.

The underground floors were to be called Floor Zero and would be restricted to employees only with said authority. Floor Zero would hold three official levels. The first level would house the training ground for security and a living area for overnight workers. The second level would house captured monsters and hold them until they were sold. With the third level being a vault holding currency such as gold, silver, jewels, and items to be sold.

However, there was technically one more unofficial level. The 4th level would only be known to her as it housed intricate spell pentagrams and formations carved carefully into the stone floor. The real reason for the various other underground floors was to hide the pentagrams from curious eyes. Not only are there earthquake and fire protection spells, but offensive and defensive spells preventing attacks from above and down below. The auction house rivaled any guild headquarters security and possibly had a couple that they didn’t even know about.

Satisfied with her work, Izo staggers out of the red brick building as she firmly locks the doors behind her. The moon is high in the sky as the night breeze is cool against her skin. Worn out and too tired to flag a taxi, Izo just points at the ground in a complicated gesture. Her figure vanishes from in front of the shop and suddenly appears in her room. Exhausted and too tired to move, she collapses onto her bed. A few minutes later, she begins to snore.