Black Market Auction
The reason for the brawl I'd been watching over buttered corn and Luna wine was simple enough.
The man with the greatsword was yelling that the man with the twin daggers had stolen his entry ticket. The twin-dagger fellow was firing right back, calling the swordsman a shameless thief.
Apparently, before any of this started, the greatsword guy had looked like a first-timer at the black market, so the dagger guy had offered to show him around. Then came a sudden ticket check. The greatsword man realized his pass was gone, glanced at his guide—and caught him handing a dark scrap of paper to some robed stranger. Convinced that scrap was his ticket, he'd laid into the dagger man on the spot. No solid proof, though, so he'd run out of steam. That was his side of it.
The dagger man's story was simpler still. He'd just been helping a newcomer find his way, only to get branded a thief out of nowhere. Utterly unfair, he insisted.
If they could have settled it with fists, someone would have won and that would have been that. But grim, heavy-set guards were prowling the area, so neither man dared draw steel.
A fight was still a fight, though. Crowds gathered. I gathered. Even the escorts started drifting over. And the louder the audience grew, the fiercer the shouting became.
In brawls like this, the presence of people trying to break it up only makes the fighters braver and bolder. It was a law of nature more reliable than apples falling downward—on par with the earth being round.
Anyway.
Viewed through an alchemist's cool, analytical eye, the greatsword man was in the wrong. In Korea it might have been different, but in a world like this, failing to keep track of your own belongings was entirely on you.
Besides, look at that pretty face. Even half-hidden behind a mask, he had the soft, pampered air of someone raised in a noble house with every comfort.
He'll sort it out himself.
I nodded and turned to leave. The auction was about to start. I needed to get back to my seat and rejoin the others.
Then the dagger man's voice snagged my ear.
"Come to think of it! Didn't this bastard say he came here to meet some alchemist he knows?!"
"What?!"
"Hanging around with a criminal like that—he's gotta be some kind of infiltrator! Hey! Guards! You just gonna stand there? He said he's here to meet an alchemist! A criminal! A criminal! Even if this is the black market, that crosses a line!"
The dagger man looked plenty suspicious himself. Starting with those bandages wrapped all over him, and those twin daggers—anyone would write "thief" in the occupation box. And that hat. The exact kind thieves adore.
"Not every alchemist is a criminal! And even if you hate alchemists, don't hate alchemy itself! Isn't this entire world better off thanks to alchemy?!"
"Well, well! What, you from an alchemy family? Fallen nobility? Ha! That'd explain it!"
"Fallen... fallen nobility? Did you just call my house fallen... Ha. Ha. Hahahahaha!!"
I spun on my heel at once and strode straight to the greatsword man's side. He was about to cause a serious scene, and that would be inconvenient.
"What are you doing here?"
"Wh-wh-what... hmm?"
"I'm down here."
His gaze dropped. The moment he spotted me, he took a full step back.
"Ah...! Forgive me! But... who are you?"
"Playing dumb is the game?"
I tilted my head and stared at him. His eyes rolled wildly for a second before he forced out a laugh.
"Ah! Ha! Ha! Ha! So the game's over, is it! W-well, as it happens, I—Cain—just had my entry ticket stolen! Ahem...! Sorry to keep you waiting!"
"Lord Cain lost his ticket?"
At our awkward exchange, the thief-looking man let out a snide snort and sidled closer.
"Ha! You sly little spy for those filthy alchemists! So this girl is the alchemist you were meeting!"
"Lord Cain is no spy."
As I spoke, I pulled a ticket from my bag.
"Lord Cain didn't lose his ticket. He left it with me for safekeeping. His memory must be getting worse. Come on, let's go."
"Huh? Wha...? This is my ticket...?"
A special entry pass forged from pure obsidian. The moment it settled into Cain's hand, every stare in the vicinity changed—from sharp and hostile to awed and admiring.
"You can drop the commoner act now, Lord Cain. The auction's about to start."
"Ah—aaaaah! Right! Yes! Of course! The auction! I am a dis!tin!guished! guest! Naturally I must attend!"
Cain blustered at full volume. I started to tow him away, only for black-market guards to block our path and force us to a halt.
"Forgive the intrusion, but may we verify your entry pass?"
"Mine?"
"Yes."
Apparently the guards assumed I had simply handed him my own ticket. No problem. The special passes I'd taken from the thugs' hideout had numbered three in total. I produced the same one I'd shown at the entrance.
"Here."
The guards stepped back at once and bowed at a perfect right angle.
"Thank you for indulging our discourtesy. As for that ruffian, the black market will handle him properly. Please, set aside your anger."
"Yes. Bad people should be punished. Right, Lord Cain?"
"Hmm? Hmm! Indeed! Quite right!"
"Please take care of it."
"We shall deal with him thoroughly."
Cain looked at the thief with eyes full of open scorn. I glanced over as well. The dagger man being led away by the guards kept tilting his head in pure bewilderment.
"How...? No, I was sure I... Wait, what in the world...?"
Of course he was floored. The situation made no sense to him. From a non-alchemist's perspective, it was incomprehensible.
I looked away from the thief and took a long pull of Luna wine. Sweet and refreshing.
Beside me, Cain cleared his throat and mumbled.
"Ah..."
"I'll just take the cost of the obsidian."
"N-no... This isn't something money can buy..."
"It's fine."
When I turned to look at him, his expression was blank with shock. Yellow hair, blue eyes. Early twenties, maybe. A young man in the prime of his vigor. Weapon of choice: a greatsword. Judging by the state of his hands, though, he hadn't been swinging it as long as Geric had. Purely by level, he seemed a cut above Geric. Geric had been Level 2, so Cain was probably around Level 3. Given that Geric's skill had been average, Cain clearly had real talent with a blade.
"Is Cain your real name?"
"Mmm... it is."
"Hello, Lord Cain. I'm Seri."
"Ah... right. Good to meet you, Seri."
"Was it true, what they said—that you came to meet an alchemist you know?"
"...Th-that part is true."
"Were you born into an alchemist's family?"
"They say so, long ago... Well, these days we're a knightly house."
"Is the alchemist you're meeting connected to that family, then?"
"No. He did forge this greatsword for me, though..."
"Someone who mainly works with metals, then."
"Works with metals... Well, yes. Interested? If you are, I could introduce you."
I glanced at Apte and Sera hurrying toward us from a distance, then nodded.
"I'd like that. But right now we need to get to the auction hall. If you're free, want to come with us?"
"The auction hall is for VIPs only... Ah."
Cain noticed the special pass still in his hand and gave a vigorous nod.
"In that case... I'd be glad to."
"Then it's settled."
I turned to Sera, who was glaring daggers at me.
"This is Lord Cain. He'll be joining us for a bit. He has a special entry pass, same as us."
At the words "special entry pass," Sera looked at me. The mask hid her face, but I could feel the You gave it to him, didn't you? vibe rolling off her, so I nodded.
"Oh yeah? And here I thought some random hanger-on had latched on. Cain? Nice to meet you. I'm Se— ahem, Roro."
"Right. Good to meet you, Roro."
While the two of them exchanged greetings, I asked Apte,
"Lady Apte, it's all right if Lord Cain comes with us, isn't it?"
"If that is Lady Seri's wish, there is no need to seek my permission."
Apte answered with her usual gentle courtesy, then slowly turned her gaze on Cain. The look in her eyes was different from the one she gave Sera and me—less like a complete stranger, more like someone she half-recognized. In the end she was a guide and he was masked, so she made no show of knowing him.
"Lady Seri, Lady Roro, and Lord Cain. The auction is about to begin, so allow me to escort you to the hall."
"Yes, please."
"Yeah! Let's go."
"Mmm... then I'll leave it to you."
The appraisal office I'd visited earlier had been extravagantly luxurious. The auction hall we entered now made that place look like a roadside stall. It was so grand I half expected to find the imperial palace banquet hall had been transplanted here intact.
Not a trace of the black market's usual dank smell. Instead, a fragrance filled the air that soothed the heart just by breathing it in. Smooth white marble reflected the soft lights like a mirror, and high overhead a meticulously crafted white chandelier scattered brilliance from the center of the vaulted ceiling.
No raucous hawkers here—only the restrained click of heels, the whisper of fabric, and the faintest of murmurs. Simple refreshments waited near the entrance, though you didn't help yourself; staff brought them on request.
Past the entrance, forty seats arranged in a circle filled the hall. Chairs of polished wood and velvet, numbered one through forty. Clearly assigned according to the numbers on the special passes. We were even told, upon entry, not to take offense—the numbers proved nothing about rank.
Ours were thirty-seven, thirty-eight, and thirty-nine. Right-hand end seats: comfortable enough, and a perfect spot to keep our guide behind us.
Settled into seat thirty-eight, I sipped the cookie and Luna wine a staffer had brought and surveyed the other VIPs.
"Hey... staring around like that makes you look so cheap. Stop it...!"
"Those people aren't interested in me anyway."
"They're wearing masks because they don't want attention...!"
"No. If they truly didn't want attention, they would have come covered in robes like us."
"That's..."
Having scored a victory over a non-alchemist, I leisurely finished my survey while enjoying the wine. Before long the lights dimmed, and the auctioneer stepped onto the central stage.
"Distinguished guests, thank you for joining this auction held in the deepest heart of the capital. As you are all busy people, I shall omit lengthy formalities and begin at once."
After that spare greeting, two attendants rolled a large pedestal into place behind him.
"Our first item is a book titled Ecology of Metals. A manuscript written by the seventh-tier alchemist Aldietta Raulin herself, before the Third Calamity began his full activities. It contains information on metals sleeping across the continent. Naturally, we the organizers have not verified its contents. The unbroken seal alone should assure you of that."
Good heavens.
I sat bolt upright and stared hard at the book on the pedestal. Look at that antique, majestic script. Without question, a true master alchemist had written it.
"First item of the auction, Ecology of Metals. Opening bid: one platinum coin."
Joy and despair collided. Joy that a manuscript by an alchemist was worth at least that much—and despair that it started at a full platinum coin.
But there was hope. Aaron had left me funds, hadn't he? Whatever I spent here, I could earn back later. I was about to raise my number paddle and call a bid when—
"Five platinum coins."
"Ah..."
Why? Why jump straight to five instead of two?
I turned. It was the VIP holding paddle number eighteen.
Five platinum coins was my entire fortune. Of course an alchemist's manuscript deserved that much and more, but dumping every last coin I had on a single book was out of the question. Even an alchemist has to eat.
Dreams thoroughly shattered, I slumped back against the chair. Cain quietly leaned in.
"You want that?"
"Yes. But it's too expensive. I don't think I can."
"Then I believe I can help."
With that, Cain lifted paddle thirty-nine and spoke a single line.
"Ten platinum coins."
"Hhk."
Now that was a magnificent bid.