Chapter Text
Hange stepped out of the Uber wearing a short-sleeved button-up shirt and black slacks, her usual everyday combination. The event committee had said formal attire required, but to Hange, this was as formal as it got.
Behind her, Mike and Moblit emerged in neatly tailored suits, while Nanaba looked effortlessly stunning in a dark purple blouse paired with a knee-length skirt.
Hange stopped at the entrance of the ballroom building, its exterior already glittering under the lights. Grand chandeliers shimmered behind the tall windows, visible even from outside. Luxury cars pulled up one after another, dropping off important people dressed in expensive clothes, each arrival more polished than the last.
“Am I… underdressed?” she muttered, eyes bright as she watched people stream into the ballroom.
Mike glanced at her. “You look like IT staff who accidentally wandered into a rich people’s party,”
“Scientist,” Hange corrected automatically.
Moblit sighed, smoothing back his gel-heavy hair. “Han, you said you don’t own a dress, and a suit wouldn’t suit you either. I think this is your best outfit.”
“Oh.” Hange nodded, realization catching up to her. “Yeah. That’s right.”
She let out a quiet huff. She should have changed, maybe borrowed something from Nanaba, or at least worn something more appropriate. But her brain had been too busy that morning, stuck on a behavioral prediction model based on impulse donations among the upper class.
Ironically, that was exactly where she was headed now.
The thought had been rattling around in her head ever since she got into the car.
Mike suddenly stopped and took an exaggerated sniff of the air “I smell… money. A lot of money,”
Nanaba clicked her tongue and lightly smacked his arm “Mike, don’t start,”
“This really is Zeke’s event, right?” she continued, unfolding the elegant invitation they’d received at their shared rental house two days ago. “A charity gala and auction.”
“Very Zeke,” Hange replied with a wide grin. Her eyes sparkled “This is the perfect experimental field.”
Moblit stiffened. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to—”
“We could get investors,” Hange cut in, already striding ahead. “Just imagine it! Dozens of subjects with high disposable income, oversized egos, and a tendency toward irrational decision-making in a closed social environment!”
Mike grinned. “That sounds illegal.”
“Not illegal,” Hange said breezily. “I’d just be observing. Or, at most, analyzing.”
Her friends exchanged looks and sighed in unison, following Hange anyway, who had very clearly slipped into full obsessive-researcher mode.
“Hange!!” The voice made Hange snap her head around.
“Zeke!” She nearly collided with him before pulling him into a hug. “You could’ve warned me it was this formal!”
“Formal or not, you’d look the same either way,” Zeke said, grinning as he took in her outfit.
Mike nodded in agreement. “This is your best version, Han. Authentic,”
Hange scoffed, then let her gaze sweep across the room, eyes alight. People in expensive suits sat neatly in their seats, laughing softly, holding glasses of wine that probably cost as much as her monthly income.
Okay. Focus, Han.
The invention... no, the project she was working on was not a small thing. A device capable of determining a person’s decisions and emotional state through the analysis of micro-expressions, fluctuations in heart rate, and patterns of social behavior under specific conditions.
And the data was already showing something interesting.
Rich people didn’t buy objects. They bought sensations.
And an auction was the perfect stage for that. If this model worked in the real world, it could change how companies understood human decision-making entirely.
One of the variables was money.
And right now, that was the variable she needed most.
“Do you think they’ll be interested in my project?” Hange muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
Zeke glanced at her, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Relax. Most rich people are insane. You’ll see for yourself.”
That was enough to make Hange nod, confidence settling in. “Good. Then I’m sure they’ll be interested.”
Zeke chuckled. “Han,” he said softly, “I’m pretty sure you’ll be bid on for a very high price tonight.”
Hange laughed. “I’m not part of the auction. My project is.”
Zeke only smiled, eyes hiding something she couldn’t see. Without Hange realizing it, Zeke’s absurd plan for the night was already in motion, one that would drag her straight into the strangest social experiment of her life.
Levi let out a long breath the moment he settled into Erwin’s luxury car. He’d already declined Erwin’s invitation to Zeke’s event twice. In his opinion, most events were tolerable, unless Zeke was the one hosting them.
The first refusal had been blamed on a packed schedule. The second is a lack of interest. He had no desire to attend gatherings where wealthy people met simply to parade their donations in front of one another. He preferred technology expos, the kind that actually supported his company’s direction.
“But you still came,” Erwin said calmly, adjusting his shirt cuffs beside him. “Your firm is listed as one of the main donors.”
Levi glanced over. “That’s just a formality.”
“That’s reputation,” Erwin corrected. “Zeke only invites people he trusts.”
Levi clicked his tongue softly. He sat upright in a black suit tailored perfectly to his frame, clean, simple, expensive, without ever trying to look like it. At some point, he realized his way of dressing mirrored his approach to investing.
Efficient.
Low-risk.
And completely drama-free.
Erwin’s black car came to a stop in front of the ballroom, flooded with spotlights and glittering lights. Levi knew immediately that this was the kind of place that made him want to leave five minutes after arriving.
The lights were too bright, stabbing at his eyes. The scent of expensive perfume mixed with the aroma of high-end wine, and the people inside are far too talkative.
“That monkey knows how to draw money,” Levi muttered. Erwin let out a soft chuckle at Levi’s choice of nickname for Zeke.
“Not just money,” Erwin added. “Attention, too.”
Inside the ballroom, Levi was greeted by a sea of suits and elegant gowns. Everyone looked… the same. Too polished. Too curated. His gaze swept across the room automatically, a long-ingrained habit from years of reading opportunities and risks.
Then he stopped.
Among the softness of silk, velvet, and the glitter of jewelry, there was one figure that looked like a statistical error.
A short-sleeved shirt. Plain black slacks, the color already faded with wear. She stood out without making any effort to fit in.
She was talking rapidly to a small group, hands moving animatedly, her face far too expressive, far too enthusiastic for a formal charity event.
Levi frowned. She wasn’t an investor or a donor. Too loud.
And he was certain she wasn’t a VIP either.
She looked too… alive.
Erwin followed the direction of his gaze. “Interesting, isn’t it?”
Levi didn’t look away. “Who is that?”
“I know her,” Erwin said “Though I have no idea why she’s here. One thing’s for sure.... she’s not a donor like you,”
Levi scoffed “Your circle and Zeke’s are full of strange people,”
His eyes drifted back to her.
She laughed freely, too loudly not to carry across the room. No attempt to restrain herself. No concern for who might be watching. In a room full of people selling an image, she looked like she wasn’t selling anything.
She doesn’t belong here, Levi thought.
And precisely because of that...
She caught the attention of an investor accustomed to viewing everything in terms of numbers.
“Make sure I’m not seated too close to the stage,” Levi said at last. “I have no intention of participating in the auction,”
Erwin smiled faintly.
“We’ll see,”
Levi clicked his tongue softly.
For the first time that night, he had the unsettling feeling that his best investment might not be money at all.
The MC stepped onto the stage and opened the evening. A few minutes of polite banter passed before the auction was officially announced. Dressed in a crisp white shirt and a black bow tie, he radiated enthusiasm under the main spotlight, explaining that a portion of the proceeds would be donated to several orphanages and natural disaster relief efforts.
Auction paddles began to rise one after another. Paintings, jewelry, and historical art collections were presented, each item fiercely contested. Moblit stared in awe at the collections on display, while Mike was far more impressed by the numbers flashing on the paddle board. Hange and Nanaba remained quiet, observing it all while casually enjoying the food laid out on the guests’ table.
After several items were sold, Zeke approached their table and told them it was Hange’s turn to go on.
Hange prepared herself. Accompanied by her friends, she moved toward backstage, hands trembling slightly, cold sweat beginning to dampen her palms. She took a steadying breath just as the MC called her name.
“And before we conclude tonight’s charity auction,” the MC announced, “we’ll hear a brief presentation from one of the innovators whose work plays an important role this evening,”
Hange straightened instinctively and stepped onto the stage with quick strides and a wide smile. The spotlight snapped on, making her squint slightly. Hange Zoë appeared on the screen behind her. She stood under dozens of focused gazes, while backstage, Zeke and her friends were grinning far too widely.
Once the MC introduced her and placed the microphone in her hand, the nerves vanished. This was her element, speaking to a crowd.
“Good evening!” Hange greeted brightly. “I’m Hange Zoë, and I’m not here to sell myself—”
A few brows furrowed. Somewhere offstage, her friends—Moblit especially—started covering their faces.
“—relax, I mean that literally,” Hange added quickly. “I’m here to introduce my experiment,”
The screen behind her lit up. Graphs appeared. Facial diagrams. Heart-rate sensors.
“This experiment studies human micro-expressions and their correlation with physiological responses, specifically heart rate, to detect concealed emotional reactions.” A few members of the audience leaned in, interest beginning to spark.
In the front row, Levi Ackerman stopped stirring his drink.
“In short,” Hange continued, growing more animated, “people can lie with their mouths, but the body is almost always honest.” She flashed a wide grin. “And believe it or not, the most fascinating subjects are the ones who appear not to react at all.”
Levi’s gaze lifted to the stage.
“Our goal,” Hange said, “is to create a system applicable to negotiation, security, and even mental health.”
Applause followed. Not thunderous, but steady, solid enough to widen Hange’s smile.
She gave a small bow. “Thank you. I hope my invention… sells well.”
Satisfied, Hange stepped off the stage.
After Hange’s presentation, the MC returned to the microphone.
“Thank you for that insightful presentation. And now,” he continued smoothly, “as per our charity tradition tonight, we will proceed with the final item of the auction,”
Hange turned to Moblit. “Someone’s definitely interested, right?”
“Our final item,” the MC announced, “is… Hange Zoë.”
Hange let out a small laugh when she heard her name. “Haha… funny. Why does that sound like me being auctioned?”
No one laughed. Her friends slowly turned to look at her.
“Hange Zoë,” the MC continued, unfazed, “to be auctioned as an exclusive companion for the winning bidder, complete with priority access to her work and her time.”
Hange froze.
“…What?” she whispered.
Nanaba swore under her breath.
Moblit went pale.
Mike stared, mouth hanging open.
And Zeke..... Zeke looked extremely pleased.
“Zeke,” Hange hissed, grabbing his sleeve. “What did you do?”
“Trust the process, Han,”
“I’M A SCIENTIST, NOT A DOOR PRIZE!” Hange shouted, yanking at his jacket.
Levi Ackerman muttered a quiet curse at Erwin’s choice of seats, front row, far too close to the stage. Half the event had passed, and Levi remained utterly uninterested in the collections being paraded before them. Time dragged. His drink sat nearly untouched as he half-listened to the conversations around him.
Until the name appeared on the screen.
Hange Zoë.
Levi turned.
The woman who had caught his attention the moment he entered the ballroom stepped onto the stage without hesitation. Messy hair. An outfit that didn’t quite match. And yet the way she stood. Confident, precise, focused, alive.
The moment the microphone reached her hand, everything changed.
Levi stopped scanning the room. His attention settled fully on the woman on stage. Graphs. Diagrams. Sensors. Correlations between micro-expressions and heart rate. Her speech was fast, jumping from point to point, but the substance was solid. Not empty talk. Not a pipe dream. The research wasn’t fully polished yet, but Levi could see the potential clearly.
“People can lie with their mouths, but the body is almost always honest.”
Levi took a sip of his drink.
True.
His eyes narrowed when Hange mentioned difficult subjects, people with neutral expressions. Minimal reactions. For a brief moment, Levi felt uncomfortably seen, as if he were the subject she was talking about.
Applause echoed throughout the ballroom. Levi didn’t join in, but his mind had already started calculating development costs, risks, market applications, and more.
Then the MC spoke again. And everything went off script.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our final item tonight.... Hange Zoë, to be auctioned as an exclusive companion—”
Levi lowered his glass slowly.
What.
He stared at the stage. Hange had stepped down seconds ago, but Levi knew a scientist wouldn’t come to a charity auction just to sell herself.
This wasn’t a deal.
This was a trap.
A few people in the room nodded and smiled with interest. Levi recognized the look. The kind of look aimed at an object, not a mind.
This was bad. Not just ethically, but strategically. A scientist like her in the wrong hands would end up with her research twisted, potential wasted, or worse… controlled.
Foolish, Levi thought.
The auction began. Numbers climbed quickly. Some raised their paddles, others clapped enthusiastically. Their eyes glittered as if they were about to claim a new toy.
Levi exhaled slowly. This wasn’t part of the plan. But if he didn’t step in, someone else would win. And Levi didn’t like uncontrolled variables
He raised his paddle, outbidding the last offer. Erwin, seated across from him, glanced over in surprise but smiled, satisfied.
The numbers climbed again. A middle-aged man countered.
Levi raised without a flicker of emotion.
This wasn’t a competition. This was risk mitigation. Levi thought.
The gavel struck.
“Sold to Mr. Levi Ackerman.”
Applause rang out. Levi didn’t care.
He stood, eyes fixed on the stage. Hange Zoë was called back up, and at that moment, their eyes met. Hange looked shocked, confused… and a little scared.
Levi thought briefly.
Contract. Boundaries. Control.
He wasn’t saving anyone tonight. He was only making sure things didn’t get worse. And for the first time in years, Levi Ackerman realized something unsettling:
This wasn’t the investment he had planned. This was an investment that would change the variables of his own life.