Beyond Appraisal

"Customer! Haah... Where did the contractor disappear to this time?"

Golden Nest. Mamon, the master handler of the artifact appraisal office, had personally gone to the storage vault to drag out the contractor he'd set up as a figurehead, and was now craning his head around looking for him. Wondering if he was flirting with some female adventurer again, he scanned the surroundings, but the man had vanished without a trace. He didn't even feel like using mana detection or his authority. If a being from the Celestial Realm, known as the gods' laborer, was truly concealing himself, even a higher demon's authority couldn't find him—it was nearly impossible.

Mamon was a demon who disliked unnecessary waste.

"His talent for hiding pointlessly is growing day by day. How truly admirable. I can't even tell whether I contracted with a Gold Dragon or a ground snake."

Mamon grumbled loudly enough for everyone to hear, irritably straightening his tie. The golden tie Aurion had gifted him as a contract memento swayed with his touch.

Slurp.

A staff member who had just finished an appraisal beside him moistened his throat with a cup of tea and spoke up.

"Lord Aurion said he was going to wash his face since he hadn't fully woken up yet, so he stepped out for a moment."

The staff member added that he wasn't sure if that was actually true, then took another sip of tea.

"Is that so? Haah, it'll take a while again."

Mamon shook his head with a sigh, removed his gold-rimmed glasses, and pulled a white cloth from his black suit pocket to wipe the fogged lenses. The claim about washing his face ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠probably wasn't a lie. The words of a great dragon carried power in themselves. The problem was that this insane narcissist dragon would freeze like a golden statue in front of a mirror for at least an hour once he started admiring his own face.

Honestly, he doesn't seem sane, Mamon thought.

"...Judging by the direction he rolled off in, he'll probably be in the staff restroom."

Mamon put his glasses back on and habitually pushed them up slightly. A white light gleamed on the lenses, hiding his calm grayish-white pupils. He considered going to drag him back by the scruff of his neck right now, but since there weren't many customers today, he decided to let it slide.

In exchange, expect dinner.

Aurion usually ate whatever was served without complaint, but even he couldn't handle spicy food. Not just couldn't handle it—he was terrified of spiciness. The moment he tasted even a hint of heat, he would abandon all his usual dignity and start crawling around begging for water and milk like a hatchling. That said it all.

"I suppose I'll have to show off my skills after a long time."

"Master Mamon, what if he runs away again because of that?"

The staff member spoke while looking at Mamon's snow-white ponytail, behind which lurked a sinister smile hidden by his chin. Recently, Aurion had actually run away in a sulk because there was no meat for dinner. He hadn't even been gone three hours before being dragged back, but since the dragon caused a flood of complaints whenever he went out, the staff member was worried.

"That dragon wouldn't go anywhere but the Adventurer's Guild or the Magic Tower, would he?"

"That's certainly true."

He wouldn't go to the Blacksmith Guild because of the smell of sweat, and the Academy had banned him long ago after he tried to seduce the students. The only places he could go were those two. Even if he went there, the heads of those organizations were all busy people—unlike a certain Gold Dragon who sprawled out for naps—so they would immediately send him back to the Golden Nest, telling him not to bother them. A narcissistic lizard who threw tantrums over side dishes only to get returned by his siblings, and yet he was supposedly a laborer of the gods. No matter how he thought about it, the manager seemed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to have absolutely no eye for dragons. At least his dexterity was decent, but what good was dexterity alone? Two hundred years had passed and he still hadn't matured!

"Sigh...."

Mamon let out a small sigh, thinking thoughts that would have hurt the goddess and Aurion himself if they'd heard them.

"I just want to quit everything."

But then—

—Demon, imagine it. A paradise of wealth where all the treasures of the world gather together. An ideal realm of gold supremacy.

—...That might actually be a little tempting.

"Tsk."

Since there was no place in the middle realm that suited him better than this, Mamon suppressed his rising complaints with the sweet scent of greed that always lingered at the tip of his nose and decided to fulfill his duties as an appraiser today.

I'd like you to become the appraiser of my lair—no, my vault. It's time to fulfill the contract.

Crack.

Mamon put on his appraisal gloves, which he'd briefly taken off because they felt stuffy, and lightly loosened his wrists and shoulders. Then he tapped the shoulder of the staff member whose eyes were vacant from working hard since morning.

"Rootbeer, I'll take over for a moment, so please rest comfortably in the back."

"Then I won't refuse and will rest for a bit."

Rootbeer bowed his head in gratitude to Mamon, who was strict with the owner but kind and courteous to the staff, picked up his teacup, and stepped back. Mamon moved to Rootbeer's empty spot, rolled up his sleeves to tidy them, and stood with his hands behind his back in a neat posture. His mouth, which had been clicking his tongue or sighing, now curved into a gentle smile.

At that moment, the sound of people swallowing saliva could be heard from all directions.

"Hiss, Master Mamon looks cool today too...."

"Ugh, it's so bright my eyes feel like they're burning!"

"If the appraisal value exceeds 100 million this time, I'm going to confess to Master Mamon."

"He's my husband. So all of you should roll your eyes back. If you don't want to lose to the legitimate wife."

"Hehe, I'd be fine even as a concubine. No, I'd be fine as a slave."

"Who would accept you?"

"Crazy bitches. Even the madness is bountiful this year."

Mamon's artificial smile, created solely for customers and by customers, doubled the torment in the hearts of the female adventurers who had come for appraisals. A demon already renowned for his handsome appearance had reconstructed his body with Aurion's mana, the one called the most beautiful man in the dungeon city. Mamon's already radiant beauty had gone beyond shining to cause a supernova explosion, transcending imagination. Furthermore, to give customers a sense of trust, he had strongly insisted to Aurion that nothing was better than an adult male's body, and had ended up taking on an adult form instead of the childlike appearance typical of most demons.

So how could female adventurers who had only ever seen male adventurers who didn't wash and prattled on about being real men without properly grooming themselves not fall for him? Look at that perfectly fitted suit, that cloud-soft white hair, that posture straighter than even a noble heir could achieve! And that voice as sweet as melting butter, that unique way of speaking that naturally calmed the heart—how gentle and kind it was. The reason there were suspiciously many female adventurers at the artifact appraisal office was all to admire this Mamon. Thanks to that, Mamon, who had no interest in his own face whatsoever, thought the adventurers were coming to see Aurion, whose body and face were at least passable, and forcibly dragged him out of the storage vault where he enjoyed his daily naps. Aurion found it quite bothersome, but since he liked receiving attention from others, he pretended to dislike it while secretly enjoying it. Aurion was happy, immersed in his own popularity, and Mamon was pleased by the increase in customers—a world where no one suffered had been completed.

Murmur murmur.

"...Hm? What's with the sudden commotion?"

Since Aurion, who usually diverted attention, was absent, Mamon had been enduring an unbearably burdensome gaze alone when a sudden disturbance made him turn his head toward its source. There stood Felis Sherpa, whom he occasionally encountered when visiting the Adventurer's Guild to see Regina Gura, along with a gender-ambiguous young adventurer with one red-glowing eye, and—

"A crow?"

A man with a crow's head, exuding a strange atmosphere and appearing at least a head taller than the 185cm Aurion, was gathered with them, chatting away. When a small crack appeared in the poker face his superior had honed through Aurion's constant antics, Rootbeer, who had been resting in the back while snacking, stood up and checked where Mamon was looking.

"A crow? What do you mean by that all of a sudden... Huh? That person is?"

"Rootbeer. Do you know him?"

"Ah, we're not acquainted, but I've heard rumors. Isn't he famous these days? The crazy demon with a crow's head."

"Crazy... demon? Aah! So that was him?"

Mamon had also heard about it while eating with the staff. There was a rumor about a demon who wandered around startling adventurers with a hideous appearance and a nauseating smell to obtain the emotion of fear.

"Fear, huh... This is quite the big shot that's come."

Mamon quietly observed the demon of fear with a slight tremor in his body from the tension he hadn't felt in a long time.

He took on an adult male body like me? Well, that side does stimulate humanity's primal fear better than the female side.

A threateningly large stature and a black feast covering his entire body.

Is his skin intentionally covered?

Everything from head to toe was eerily black. Probably to avoid looking as human as possible. Humans tended to feel fear toward things different from themselves.

Wow, even while constructing a single body, he put a lot of thought into it. I didn't know from just the rumors, but he seems incredibly intelligent.

Looking at the small, cute child beside him who served as his original form, one could tell how much effort he had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠put into appearing frightening. If he took off that crow mask covering his face, he'd probably be quite presentable. That aside—

That crow mask. It's quite tempting.

The smoothly curved black beak, the lenses darker than darkness itself, the seamless black leather, and the mysterious harmony of gleaming black iron. Even just glancing at it from afar, it was no ordinary item. Having appraised countless relics since descending to the middle realm, this was the first time he'd seen something so unique.

I want it.

A ripple spread through the depths of the demon's primal desire that had been dormant. When he closed and opened his eyes, a faint golden light shimmered in his calm grayish-white pupils. The demon's eyes, which judged the value of objects, turned toward the twisted crow's head. And at the same time—

"Hm?"

The unbelievable information reflected in Mamon's eyes, which had been filled with greed. A tiny crack formed on his expression.

"...How interesting."

What on earth is that?

What could possibly be an item that even a demon's authority couldn't properly assess its value? Interesting. Insanely interesting.

Clench.

Mamon tightly clenched his fist.

"Hoo, hoo...."

He let out a light breath to control his trembling shoulders. He wanted to run to that demon right now and shout that he would purchase the mask, but he gritted his teeth and held back. He couldn't afford to lose the dignified and noble image he had built up over time.

Calm down. Calm down, Mamon.

"Hoo...."

Recalling the sweet smile of his beloved Regina Gura, Mamon barely managed to calm his trembling heart. But then—

"...Wait. What is that again?"

Even though he had barely calmed his heart, when Mamon's eyes caught the robe worn by the child standing beside the demon, he couldn't hide his shock. And for good reason.

"One hundred and eighty... billion?"

"...Yes?"

Because he had witnessed a value that was astonishing after twenty years.

"Aah."

How wonderful....

Mamon felt his mind growing dizzy as he watched the high-value items(?) gradually approaching him.

"Huh? Master Mamon, you're bleeding!?"

"Yes...?"

At that moment, thick blood flowed down his lips, which were as pale as his own hair. With an expression of dismay, he hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the blood flowing from his nose.

"...That person looks very tired. Shall we go somewhere else?"

"That seems like a good idea."

He despaired at the voice that soon reached his ears.

"Ah, no!"

Please, please come back to me! Customers!

Thud!

In an instant, Mamon's urgent figure leaped over the desk.

"Wow."

Rootbeer let out a small gasp of admiration as he watched Mamon lightly vault over the desk with one hand on it and dash toward the demon of fear. It was the first time he'd seen that usually composed demon move so quickly.

***

"Customer! Wait, please stop for a moment!"

"...?"

"Eh?"

"Meow?"

Blood-stained lips and eyes filled with madness.

"...Infected?"

At that all-too-familiar sight, I instinctively pulled out my revolver from my chest.