Chapter 31 - Jetoson the Swindler

“Akan has policies favoring dwarves. There are plenty of workshops, and even more dwarves. There are quite a few dwarven workshops around the magic market in particular. Shall we search them carefully, one by one?”

“Let's go.”

The headstrong princess set off toward one corner of the capital. Berge quietly followed her.

'Has she really come looking for Logger?'

Considering what she had done before his regression, it wasn't entirely impossible. But that didn't account for her sheer stupidity.

'A crazy bitch, just as I thought.'

Berge snorted and lost interest. Her being a princess did pique his curiosity, but kidnapping her would be the worst possible move.

'Getting tangled up with those dwarven bastards would be a nuisance.'

The dwarven kingdom itself wasn't particularly impressive, but its outstanding artisans—and the connections forged through them—were not to be taken lightly. The moment a prince or princess was kidnapped, they would request assistance from every nation connected to them, directly or indirectly, and a vast number of artifacts would flood into the Heroes' Guild. In fact, a Demon King had once kidnapped a prince of the dwarven kingdom and fallen to a combined assault from the entire continent.

Since then, there had supposedly been a general understanding that dwarves were best left alone whenever possible. Probably. With these stray thoughts running through his mind, he turned toward the magic market. True to its reputation as a kingdom of magic, Akan's capital had several such markets.

As Berge entered the magic district, he concealed his energy even more thoroughly. The place teemed with mages seeking magical ingredients, along with mercenaries and merchants supplying them in hopes of striking it rich. There were almost certainly heroes among them. Of course, they were weaker than those in the mage towers, so very few would be capable of detecting him.

Berge entered a quiet shop with relatively few customers. Fortunately, there were no heroes inside.

“Welcome!”

The smell of old wood mingled with the pungent scent of medicinal herbs, making for a rather unpleasant combination. Something was bubbling away. The interior was packed with glass bottles of every kind and the reagents they contained.

'A drykan root. That's a lycanthrope's heart. And is this vampire blood?'

There were not only reagents but also demonic creature parts, magical herbs, and unusual ingredients. Their quality, however, didn't look particularly good.

'The root's half destroyed, and the heart's only a piece. Did they take this blood from some bottom-rung vampire? There's barely any demonic energy in it.'

Even if this wasn't a mage tower, this was appalling. Apparently, there was a reason the place was empty.

“How may I help you?”

The clerk stepped closer.

“I need Seniel powder.”

“You mean the powder for spirit contracts?”

“Yes.”

“You've come at just the right time! We rarely stock it, but I've managed to get a few packets!”

“Rarely?”

“Well, there are so few spirit summoners. The magical reagents and magic crystals that go into Seniel powder alone make it quite expensive, and its shelf life isn't very long, is it?”

He didn't know. Why the hell would he know something like that?

“Indeed.”

“And it doesn't give people an affinity for spirits if they have none to begin with, so ultimately it's exclusively for spirit summoners. With their numbers dwindling, what do you think happens? More and more shops stop carrying it.”

He was very lucky indeed, the clerk assured him, rattling on ingratiatingly.

“If you hadn't come to our shop, you would have had to visit at least several dozen others.”

What a noisy bastard. The clerk rummaged through a display piled high with ingredients.

“Let's see... It should be around here somewhere...?”

He pulled out three small, dust-covered pouches.

“Here we are. One gold each.”

“Expensive.”

“Demand is so low that very little is produced. The scarcity drives up the unit price. How many do you need?”

“All of them.”

With mana so scarce, she would appreciate as much as she could get. She had helped him stop the heroes and even turn them into his subordinates, so he was willing to show this much generosity as a Demon King.

“Then that will be three gold. You've made an excellent choice. Everything our shop carries is of the highest quality.”

It certainly didn't look that way, but he didn't bother challenging the claim.

'I'll buy it and leave immediately. There's no telling when I might run into heroes...'

Berge opened a pouch to inspect its contents, then paused. Seeing his expression harden, the clerk gave an awkward smile.

“Is something wrong...?”

“It's purple.”

“Pardon?”

“The Seniel powder I know is a pale green.”

“Uh, that can't be...”

The clerk hurriedly checked the pouches. He put down the first and pulled open the second and third.

“Or has a new powder been developed without my knowledge?”

“... Would you believe me if I said yes?”

Berge silently clenched his fist.

“I'm joking. Just joking.”

“So funny I want to tear you limb from limb.”

“Haha, you're quite the joker.”

“You think this is funny?”

The clerk was oblivious to the shadow of death quietly closing in on him.

“But you're mistaken if you think there's anything wrong with it.”

“It's your body that's about to have something wrong with it, not the powder.”

“Just hear me out. It's true that Seniel powder was originally made green, but being a different color doesn't prove there's anything wrong with it, does it?”

“Keep babbling.”

“They say that when swords were first made, most were simply basic shortswords and longswords. But time has passed, and what do we have now? Countless varieties have emerged—bastard swords, zweihanders, gladii, broadswords, rapiers. I call that progress.”

“So Seniel powder turning from green to purple is progress...”

“Can't you feel this pure mana?”

“I can't.”

It had become so murky that he doubted it was even the pure powder used for spirit contracts.

“At this rate, you could use it to contract a demon rather than a spirit.”

“Oh, sir, you're taking the joke a little too far. How could mana this rich possibly be—”

Since it was primarily made by grinding mana stones, the mana itself was indeed rich. But considering that the blood and corpses used in black magic were brimming with life force, that hardly meant anything.

“Oh, why not? I'm feeling generous. I'll give it to you for half price!”

“May I fold your body in half?”

“A quarter of the price...?”

“...”

“Then how about other reagents? Seniel powder is only the most famous spirit-summoning aid, not the only one! There are plenty of better products that have simply been overshadowed by its reputation.”

“When you barely have any Seniel powder, and even that has gone bad.”

“Ahem...”

An icy silence settled over them.

“Where's the owner?”

“I'm the owner.”

Berge debated it dozens of times.

'Should I kill him?'

'Revealing my power in Amur isn't a good idea.'

'I don't think I'd even need to reveal it.'

'A murder in the magic district would definitely cause a stir, wouldn't it?'

'But killing a son of a bitch isn't murder, is it?'

JINGLE

He might actually have done it if new customers hadn't arrived just then.

“Welcome!”

The clerk—no, the shopkeeper—greeted his new customers, unaware that he had just narrowly escaped death.

“Do we really have to start with a shabby place like this?”

“If he has any sense, he won't formally join a mage tower. The Kingdom of Akan would never refuse a request from our kingdom.”

“So you're saying he's hiding here?”

“I'm saying he's likely hiding somewhere in the magic district. This place is just one possibility.”

“Dwarves, I see. Our shop is very famous among dwarves, you know.”

The shopkeeper's shameless claims caught Louise's interest.

“This rundown shop is famous among dwarves?”

“Yes, of course! We hardly carry metals, but we stock every other magical substance that works well with them. All top quality, too.”

“We haven't come to browse. We're looking for someone.”

“Ah, I see. But what a predicament! I suffer from an illness that makes my memory deteriorate whenever I fail to sell anything...”

“... What is this piece of trash?”

“M-murder is forbidden in the capital!”

Louise drew her weapon. Although terrified, the shopkeeper kept running his mouth. It was like watching a play. Berge looked on at the ridiculous spectacle.

“... And if you're going to threaten me, couldn't you buy something first?”

“... Are you fucking insane?”

“Please don't misunderstand. If you buy something, you'll at least have done me some good, so I think I'll be able to take it a little more cheerfully.”

“You're a very amusing human.”

Instead of raging, Louise burst out laughing.

“Fine. Let's see your wares.”

“How about this?”

The shopkeeper offered her the discolored Seniel powder Berge had rejected.

“I've never seen this powder before.”

“This is a brand-new product. It's called Artsha powder, an aid made by mixing magic crystals with various reagents.”

“Aren't there countless things like that?”

“This is different. It alters mana into something close to demonic energy, making it more effective on demonic creature and demon parts. As dwarven artisans, you must know what a tremendous advantage that is.”

“Not bad. If it's true, that is. It has an official mage tower certification mark, I assume?”

“It's privately made, so it doesn't, but every word is true! A merchant's credibility is his life. Would I lie while doing business here in the capital of Amur, of all places?”

“Some of the mana has changed. So it's not a complete lie.”

Louise snorted.

“How much?”

“Normally four gold, but I'll give you a special price of three!”

“... He's definitely a swindler. Three gold for some powder like that? Even the renowned Seniel powder only costs fifty silver.”

'Fifty silver?'

Look at this little bastard.

“Enough. Time is pressing, and I don't want to waste it on trifles.”

Louise gestured with her chin. Her guard handed the shopkeeper three gold coins.

“Thank you! Blessings upon you!”

“Then let me ask. Has a dwarf arrived in the magic market recently? His name is Logger.”

“I know most of the dwarves in the magic market, but I've never heard the name Logger.”

“If that's all I get for three gold, I might become angry.”

“There's a shop called the Deer's Leaf beside the central square. It's the largest shop in the magic market and carries the widest range of goods. It's such a landmark that most first-time visitors stop there before anywhere else. They might be able to tell you.”

“Not bad. Let's go.”

Louise put away her weapon, turned, and left the shop.

“An unseemly display on my part.”

Just before leaving, she met Berge's eyes. She didn't recognize him, however. His face had been altered when they fought before.

“You're quite skilled. Selling worthless rubbish for an even higher price.”

“Thank you for not spoiling it from the sidelines. I pulled it off thanks to you.”

“It wasn't my money. You had quite the nerve, even with a blade in your face.”

“Empty vessels make the most noise. People who draw blades to threaten someone never actually swing them. At worst, they'll damage a few goods.”

“And you raised the price, too.”

“One look told me she was a young lady from some distinguished family. And even if she wasn't, dwarves have plenty of money. I figured she'd readily pay three gold.”

Berge knew nothing about commerce or merchants. But he could tell one thing: the human before him was extraordinary.

'A born swindler.'

He was a lunatic who lied through his teeth with a customer who knew the truth standing right beside him. And Berge liked that lunatic.

“I'll take the remaining two packets of Seniel powder.”

They had deteriorated a little, but they would be better than nothing.

“Really? For you, sir, I'll offer both for just one gold!”

“Do I look distinguished, too?”

“Pardon?”

The shopkeeper gave an awkward laugh.

“... It's a misunderstanding. I think that gentleman had the market price wrong...”

“Then the price I know must be right. Spoiled powder has no commercial value, so that's zero, isn't it?”

The shopkeeper's face twisted.

“You bas—valued customer, that's going too far. Theft is a very serious crime in Amur.”

“Did you say people who make threats never actually use their blades?”

“Why are you suddenly changing the subject?”

“Do you know who that woman was? Louise Berft.”

“... Berft's Mad Dog?”

“One step further, and she'd probably have cut your head off.”

“... Hic!”

“Well? Shall I run after her and tell her the truth? Or...”

“Take them! Just take them!”

“Fucking hell,” the shopkeeper grumbled.

“Never thought I'd live to see the day someone fleeced me...”

“There's one more thing.”

“Why not just squeeze blood from a stone!”

“This isn't bad for you, either. I want to recruit you. For the Golden Moon Trading Company.”

“Golden Moon Trading Company? Are you involved with them?”

“You could say that.”

“Isn't that company on its last legs? Why would someone with a bright future like me go there?”

“Because otherwise Louise Berft will kill you?”

“Fucking hell!”

“I'm joking.”

“That's one bloody terrifying joke!”

“Well, the offer to join Golden Moon is real. I'd like to have someone like you.”

Humans understood other humans best. They were also the best at fleecing one another. Berge wanted Golden Moon to fleece humans and line his own pockets.

THUD

A pouch dropped in front of the shopkeeper.

“What's this?”

“An advance and your monthly salary. Come to Golden Moon, and I'll pay you more than that.”

“... One gold?”

A monthly salary of one gold? Greed filled the shopkeeper's eyes.

“Of course, you'll receive additional rewards according to your results.”

“... I'll come!”

“A good choice. Go to the Golden Moon Trading Company and tell them you came from the mountain.”

“What does that mean?”

“That's all you need to know.”

“Yes, understood.”

“Oh, and I can get Seniel powder at the place you mentioned earlier, right?”

“Of course. There's nothing the Deer's Leaf doesn't have!”

“Right, what's your name?”

“Jetoson!”

Berge left the shop. Left alone, Jetoson chuckled to himself, stroking the gold coin with a blissful smile.

“Tossing out a gold coin like that, he does seem rich...”

He took out some salt and scattered it toward the door.

“But why the hell would I go there?”

It was obviously a road to misery. Why volunteer for suffering? As far as he was concerned, Berge was the very picture of a ruthless employer.

“Bleeding a merchant dry, the damned bastard. Go get yourself swindled good and proper. Ptooey.”

Jetoson poured out the entire container of salt.

“Shoo, shoo. Begone, begone. Neither of you ever come back.”

He had no idea.

“...”

The customer he thought had left was watching through the window, his presence concealed.

Without a word, Berge went to the Deer's Leaf. He approached Louise as she questioned a clerk about various things.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“That powder from earlier. It wasn't specially developed or anything of the sort. It's just old Seniel powder that's gone bad. You paid an inflated price for defective goods.”

“... What?”

Louise's face contorted.

“Ask the merchants here to appraise it, and you'll see I'm not lying.”

“... That fucking bastard.”

Back in his shop, Jetoson stopped scattering salt to rub the goosebumps rising on his skin.

“... Why is it suddenly cold?”