Chapter 31 : The Fraud Zetoson
Chapter 31: The Fraud Zetoson
“Arkan favored dwarves. There were many workshops, and even more dwarves. Especially in the magic market, there were quite a number of dwarf workshops. Let’s look through them one by one.”
“Let’s go.”
The confident princess strode toward one side of the capital.
Berje quietly followed behind her.
‘Did she really come out here to look for Roger?’
Compared to her movements before his regression, it wasn’t entirely impossible.
But that didn’t excuse her ignorance.
‘She really was a crazy woman.’
Berje snorted and lost interest.
She fascinated him because she was a princess, but kidnapping her would be the worst choice.
‘Getting tangled with those dwarves would be a hassle.’
The Dwarven Kingdom itself wasn’t impressive, but their master craftsmen—and the connections formed through them—were never to be taken lightly.
The moment one kidnapped a prince or princess, every nation connected to them directly or indirectly would come to their aid, and enormous artifacts would pour into the Hero Guild.
In fact, long ago, a Demon King had kidnapped the prince of the Dwarven Kingdom, only to be crushed by the united forces of the entire continent.
Ever since then, everyone generally agreed that it was better not to touch dwarves at all.
Lost in thought, he turned toward the magic market.
True to the name of the Magitech Kingdom of Arkan, several magic markets existed within the capital.
Entering Magic Street, Berje concealed his presence even more thoroughly.
It was a place overflowing with mages seeking magic ingredients, and mercenaries and merchants eager for quick riches supplying those ingredients. Among them, a hero was almost guaranteed to be present. Of course, compared to the Magic Tower, they were too weak to sense him—only a very rare few could.
Berje stepped into a relatively quiet shop with few customers. Fortunately, there was no hero inside.
“Welcome!”
The smell of old wood wafted through the air. It mixed with the sharp scent of herbs, creating a rather unpleasant impression.
Something bubbled and boiled. Glass bottles of all shapes lined the interior, each filled with various reagents.
‘Draycan root. That’s a lycanthrope’s heart. And this must be vampire blood.’
Beyond simple reagents, there were monster byproducts, Spirit Blossoms, and other peculiar materials.
However, the quality didn’t seem very good.
‘The root was half damaged, the heart in pieces. The blood—was that harvested from some lowest-grade vampire? It barely contained any demonic energy.’
Even if this wasn’t the Magic Tower, this level was… Well, no wonder the shop was empty.
“How may I help you?”
The clerk stepped closer.
“I need Seniel Powder.”
“For spirit-contract use?”
“Yes.”
“You came at the perfect time! I managed to acquire a few rare pieces!”
“Rare?”
“Well, spirit sorcerers are extremely few to begin with. The magic reagents and magic stones required for Seniel Powder are already expensive, and the shelf life isn’t long, is it?”
He didn’t know. Why should he care about that?
“That’s true.”
“And it’s not like it grants spirit sensitivity to someone who lacks it entirely. Meaning only spirit sorcerers use it, and since their numbers keep declining, what do you think happens? More and more shops stop carrying it.”
You’re truly lucky.
The clerk chattered politely.
“If you hadn’t come to our shop, you would’ve had to visit dozens of others.”
A noisy fellow.
He rummaged through a display shelf piled with ingredients.
“Let’s see… It should be here somewhere…?”
Three small pouches, thick with dust, were pulled out.
“Here, one gold each.”
“Expensive.”
“Very few people look for it, so the production quantity is low. Its rarity drove the price up. How many do you need?”
“All of them.”
Since mana was scarce, the more quantity he had, the better. Thanks to it, he had even stopped a hero and turned him into his subordinate, so he was willing to spend at least this much.
“Then that will be three gold. You’ve made an excellent choice. Everything we carry is top-grade.”
It didn’t look that way at all, but he didn’t bother arguing.
‘I should buy and leave immediately. I never know when I’ll run into a hero…’
Berje opened one of the pouches to inspect the inside—and froze. Seeing his hardened expression, the clerk gave an awkward smile.
“I-Is something wrong…?”
“It’s purple.”
“Pardon?”
“The Seniel Powder I know was a faint green.”
“Uh, that’s strange… That shouldn’t be…”
Panicking, the clerk hurried to check the pouch. He set down the first one, then opened the second, then the third.
“Or did a new type get developed while I wasn’t looking?”
“…If I said yes, would you believe me?”
Berje silently tightened his fist.
“It was a joke, a joke.”
“It was so funny I almost want to tear your limbs off.”
“Haha, you have quite the sense of humor.”
“You think I’m laughing?”
The clerk failed to notice the quiet shadow of death creeping toward him.
“But you’re mistaken. There’s nothing wrong with the powder.”
“The only thing that will be wrong is your body.”
“Just hear me out for a moment. Seniel Powder was originally green, yes, but a different color doesn’t automatically mean something is wrong, does it?”
“Keep talking.”
“When swords were first made, all you had were basic short swords and long swords. But as time passed, what happened? Bastard swords, zweihanders, gladii, broadswords, rapiers—countless variations were created. I believe that is development.”
“So turning Seniel Powder from green to purple is what you call development…”
“Can’t you feel how pure the mana is?”
“I can’t.”
It was so murky he doubted it could even be used for a spirit contract.
“At this point, it might work better for contracting with demons rather than spirits.”
“Sir, that joke is going a bit too far. How could this rich mana—”
Since it was basically made by grinding mana stones, the mana density itself was high. But considering that black magic used overflowing life force from blood or corpses, the comparison wasn’t flattering.
“Fine, I’m feeling generous. How about half price!”
“Can I fold your body in half?”
“H-half of… that…?”
“....”
“Then how about other reagents? Seniel Powder is just the most famous among spirit-summoning aids, not the only one! Many even better ones exist but are overshadowed by its name!”
“You don’t have many Seniel Powder pouches, and even those are spoiled.”
“Ahem…”
A cold silence settled.
“Where is the owner?”
“I’m the owner.”
Berje contemplated it dozens of times.
‘Should I kill him?’
‘Revealing my power in Amur is a bad idea.’
‘I probably wouldn’t even need to reveal power for this.’
‘If a murder happens in Magic Street, it’ll definitely turn into a big issue, right?’
‘But killing a bastard isn’t murder, is it?’
Clink—
If not for the customer who walked in at that very moment, he truly might have done it.
“Welcome!”
The clerk—no, the shop owner—greeted the newcomers without realizing he had just passed by death’s doorstep.
“Did we really have to start with such a shabby place?”
“If he has any sense, he won’t officially enter the Magic Tower. If the kingdom requests him, there’s no way the Kingdom of Arkan would refuse.”
“So you think he’s hiding here?”
“I’m saying it’s highly possible he’s somewhere within Magic Street. This place is only one of the possibilities.”
“You’re a dwarf, I see. Our shop is very famous among dwarves.”
Louise grew curious at the clerk’s oily flattery.
“This worn-out shop is famous among dwarves?”
“Yes, of course! We don’t deal with much metal, but we do carry every magical material that pairs well with metal. And all of them are top-grade.”
“We didn’t come to look at goods. We’re looking for someone.”
“Ah, I see. But what can I do? If I don’t sell anything, I suffer from this terrible illness where my memory gets worse…”
“…What is this trash?”
“M-murder is prohibited in the capital!”
Louise drew her weapon. The shop owner flinched in terror, though his mouth still wouldn’t stop moving.
It felt like a stage performance. Berje watched the pathetic act.
“…And if you’re going to threaten me, couldn’t you at least buy something first before you do?”
“…Is he insane?”
“Please don’t misunderstand. If you buy something first, then at least you’ve given me some profit, so I’d be able to accept the threat a little more gladly.”
“You’re quite the amusing human.”
Instead of anger, Louise burst into loud laughter.
“Fine, let’s take a look at your merchandise.”
“How about this?”
The shop owner presented the same discolored Seniel Powder Berje had rejected.
“Never seen this powder before.”
“This is a brand-new product. It’s called Artsha Powder—an auxiliary reagent made by mixing magic stones with various reagents.”
“Aren’t things like that everywhere?”
“This one is different. It alters mana into something closer to demonic energy, allowing it to work far more effectively on monster or demon byproducts. As dwarven craftsmen, surely you understand what a huge advantage that is?”
“Not bad, if it’s true. It must have the official certification from the Magic Tower, right?”
“It doesn’t—since it’s individually produced—but I assure you, not a single word is a lie! For a merchant, trust is life itself. Especially for someone like me doing business in the capital Amur—why would I ever lie?”
“The mana is partially corrupted. So it wasn’t a complete lie.”
Louise scoffed.
“How much?”
“It’s originally four gold, but for you, I’ll offer it for three!”
“…He’s definitely a swindler. Three gold for that pathetic powder? Even that so-called Seniel Powder is fifty silver.”
‘Fifty silver?’
So that’s how it is.
“Enough. We’re in a hurry—I don’t want to waste time over something trivial.”
Louise jerked her chin. Three gold coins passed from the guard’s hand to the shop owner.
“Thank you! Blessings upon you!”
“Then answer me. Has any dwarf recently come into the magic market? His name is Roger.”
“I know almost every dwarf in the magic market, but I’ve never heard the name Roger.”
“If three gold buys me nothing more than that, I might get angry.”
“There’s a shop called Deer’s Leaf next to the central plaza. It’s the biggest shop in the magic market and carries the most goods. Anyone visiting the magic market for the first time almost always stops there first. If anywhere knows, it’ll be them.”
“Not bad. Let’s go.”
Louise sheathed her weapon, turned, and left the shop.
“You made a fool of yourself.”
Just before leaving, her gaze briefly met Berje’s. But she didn’t recognize him—back then, they had fought with his transformed face between them.
“You’re skilled. Selling worthless garbage at an even higher price.”
“Thank you. And thank you for not ruining it for me. Thanks to you, I succeeded.”
“It wasn’t my money. And even with a blade at your throat, you had guts.”
“Empty carts make the most noise. People who draw a sword to threaten rarely swing it for real. At worst, a product or two gets damaged.”
“And you even raised the price.”
“She looked like the daughter of some noble family. Even if she wasn’t, dwarves have money. So I figured three gold would be nothing to them.”
Berje knew nothing of commerce or merchants. But one thing—he could tell the human before him was exceptional.
‘A born swindler.’
A lunatic bold enough to spout blatant lies even with someone who knew the truth standing right beside him.
And Berje liked that lunatic.
“I’ll take the remaining two Seniel Powders.”
They were slightly degraded, but better than nothing.
“Truly? Then for you, I’ll sell both for one gold!”
“Do I also look like someone precious?”
“…Pardon?”
The shop owner forced an awkward smile.
“...You misunderstand. That lady must have gotten the market price wrong…”
“In that case, the price I know must be right. Degraded powder has no value—zero, isn’t it?”
The shop owner’s face twisted.
“Y-you, I mean, sir, come on now, that’s unreasonable. Theft is a serious crime in Amur.”
“You said people who threaten never actually swing their swords, didn’t you?”
“W-why are you suddenly bringing that up?”
“You know? That woman was Louise Berfht.”
“…The Mad Dog of Berfht?”
“If you took one step further with her, your head would’ve been rolling.”
“…Hic.”
“So? Should I go and tell her the truth right now? Or…”
“Take them! Take them!”
Damn it.
The shop owner grumbled.
“I never thought in my life I would get swindled…”
“There’s one more thing.”
“Fine, take the liver out of a flea while you’re at it!”
“This one’s not bad for you either. I want to recruit you—to the Golden Moon Merchant Company.”
“Golden Moon Merchant Company? You’re affiliated with them?”
“You could say that.”
“Isn’t that a merchant company on the brink of collapse? Why would someone as promising as me go to a place like that?”
“Otherwise you’ll get killed by Louise Berfht?”
“Damn it!”
“Joke.”
“What a murderous joke that was, damn!”
“Well, the invitation to the Golden Moon Merchant Company is real. A guy like you would be useful.”
Only humans understood humans. And those who preyed on humans best were also human.
Berje wanted the Golden Moon Merchant Company to exploit and devour people to fatten itself.
Thud—
A coin was placed in front of the shop owner.
“What’s this?”
“Down payment and salary. You’ll get more once you join the Golden Moon Merchant Company.”
“…One gold?”
A salary of one gold?
Greed filled the shop owner’s eyes.
“Depending on your performance, of course, you’ll get additional compensation.”
“…I’ll go!”
“Good choice. Go to the Golden Moon Merchant Company and tell them you came from the mountain.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just remember it like that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, if I want more Seniel Powder, I go to that place you mentioned earlier, right?”
“Of course. Deer’s Leaf has everything!”
“By the way, what’s your name?”
“Zetoson!”
Berje left the shop.
Hehehe.
Left alone, Zetoson stroked the gold coin with a blissful smile.
“He throws around a gold coin just like that… Guess he’s rich.”
He took out some salt and threw it toward the door.
“Why the hell would I go there?”
Why suffer on purpose when the road ahead was clearly miserable? From his perspective, Berje was the definition of a cruel employer.
“That bastard who feeds on merchants’ guts. Go outside and get ripped off, you bastard, ptui.”
Zetoson dumped out the entire salt container.
“Shoo, shoo. Go away. May neither of you ever come back.”
He didn’t know.
“....”
That the customer he thought had left was watching through the window with his presence concealed.
Berje silently headed toward Deer’s Leaf.
Louise was questioning a clerk when he approached her.
“Hey.”
“What?”
“That powder earlier—it wasn’t special or anything. Just old, degraded Seniel Powder. You overpaid for defective goods.”
“…What?”
Louise’s face twisted instantly.
“If you ask the merchants here for an appraisal, you’ll see I’m not lying.”
“…That little bastard.”
Back in his shop, Zetoson rubbed his arms as goosebumps suddenly rose.
“…Why is it suddenly cold?”