>To save my seriously ill sister, I signed a contract with a mysterious auction house.
>On my first day on the job, my supervisor asked me to appraise antiques: "Don't touch that pen, it just sucked up three appraisers last week."
>I reached out and touched it, and the pen complained in my mind: "It tastes bad! It's far worse than ink!"
>The supervisor was shocked: "Are you alive? Then try this bronze tripod..."
>A roar came from the cauldron: "Who dares to touch my sacrifice!"
>The auction house suddenly sounded an alarm, and my appraisal report popped up on the screen:
> "Item: Ancient Blood Sacrifice Cauldron. Danger Level: World Destruction. Suggested Disposal: Destroy immediately or... Recognize the owner?"
