Chapter 200
Chapter 200
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 200
Chapter Title: Raizen Bednicker
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In fact, I've never met Raizen Bednicker in person.
When I was young—before the Blessing Ceremony—I mostly played with kids around my own age.
The eldest son, the eldest daughter, the second son, the third son... There was an age gap with those guys, so we rarely crossed paths.
Though there was Hector, who went out of his way to come pick a fight.
Anyway, since we'd never met, I had no idea what he looked like exactly—and that's pretty strange when you think about it.
Even as the third son, he's not low in the line of succession, which means we'd never once run into each other at the main house.
"What kind of person is the organizer?"
I asked casually as I followed behind the wolf-masked man.
The guy who'd introduced himself as Wolf replied in a jovial tone.
"Well... He's not someone a mere underling like me should speak of..."
"Come on, it's just us here."
"Haha, sorry."
Wolf just let out a light chuckle, clearly uninterested in pursuing the topic further.
Anyway, since he was the organizer, I'd assumed he'd be resting backstage or in some private room...
But the place Wolf led me to was the highest seat in the house.
Meaning there was one tier above even the Black-grade seat I'd been in.
My seat had already been high enough to nearly touch the ceiling, and the lighting above it was so dim I hadn't noticed.
"I've brought him, Master."
"Oh! Good work!"
It was an unexpectedly cheerful voice.
I looked at the man in his somewhat frivolous attire.
He wasn't a boy—he was a man.
It was actually puzzling. Even though he was a half-brother and thus ranked as the third son, this guy was Hector's age.
Meaning he should still have a bit of that youthful look to him.
"..."
Was that really the face of a boy?
Even sitting down, his build felt substantial. If he stood straight, he'd probably be half a head taller than me.
"But Wolf, you look pale. Didn't sleep well last night?"
"No way. I'm wearing a mask right now, after all..."
"Kuhaha! Just kidding, kidding."
The man was the owner of that frivolous getup.
Open shirt collar, neck, shoulders, wrists, waist—gold accessories draped everywhere they could fit.
And women flanking him on both sides.
A thick booze stench wafted off him like it was his job, and his somewhat bristly hair spiked up wildly.
"Hmm."
Put in the nicest terms, he was a delinquent. In the worst, he looked like the boss of some underworld outfit.
You know, those guys fighting turf wars in the western syndicates.
And yet his expression was as bright and sunny as a boy lost in a dream...
Amid it all, his jet-black hair, tanned skin, and eyes the exact same shade as mine stood out vividly.
To put it bluntly, just looking at him, he had the strongest manifestation of black elf traits.
Which also meant he strongly resembled the Iron-Blooded Duke.
That was the reason I'd been certain from the moment I laid eyes on him that this was Raizen Bednicker.
"You the big shot here?"
I tilted my head as I asked, and Raizen flashed an amiable smile.
"For now, something like that. Drink?"
He immediately offered the cup in his hand, so I shook my head.
"Underage."
"As expected!"
"As expected?"
"Same here. Not of age yet."
Raizen sipped his drink and giggled.
"They say booze tastes different once you hit adulthood, so I'm savoring it now before my head gets too thick."
"..."
Crazy bastard.
Even in this brief encounter, he struck me as unhinged.
That aside...
'Can't sense his aura?'
That left two possibilities.
Either he was so pathetically weak his aura was undetectable.
Or he had some method to conceal his presence.
Judging by the muscles visible through his shirt, the latter seemed far more likely.
"Should I call you Master too?"
"Whatever feels right."
"Then, merchant fellow."
"..."
"Enjoying the show here—what business do you have summoning this fine body?"
I slipped back into my thug Ruan persona and puffed up with swagger.
At my attitude, the women on either side shot me sidelong glares.
But the man himself—Raizen—still wore a smiling face as he spoke.
"Nothing big. Heard the Black-grade guest was sweeping up all the items, so I wanted to see your face. Any merchant worth his salt memorizes his top customers' mugs."
Face, huh...
Did he mean for me to take off my mask?
Come to think of it, this guy wasn't hiding his own face.
No masks on the table or anywhere nearby—he didn't seem like the type who wore one regularly.
"If it rubbed you the wrong way, sorry. Not much of an apology, but if there's an item that catches your eye, pick one. My gift to you."
"For free?"
"Huh? Who charges money for a gift?"
Fair point.
I stared at Raizen for a moment.
Right up until I'd arrived here, I'd entertained the thought.
That the real mastermind was someone else—that Raizen Bednicker was just a figurehead propped up on the surface.
But now that we were face-to-face, that notion had faded.
'This guy's no slouch.'
The women's attitudes said as much. And so did that Wolf guy's demeanor just now.
He had at least the bare minimum of charisma.
Of course, charisma alone wouldn't cut it for running an auction house like this...
The mystery only deepened.
The Iron-Blooded Duke just let a vessel like this slip away without a fight?
"..."
Interesting.
I grinned and pulled out the catalog.
Then I flipped to the last page and pointed at the auction item at the very end.
"This one too?"
"..."
Raizen subtly erased the curve of his smile. That alone shifted the atmosphere.
"That's absurd."
Raizen tilted his head.
"I definitely showed some goodwill here, but this rude attitude... Is there something that rubbed you wrong?"
"Everything from one to ten sucks, asshole. And your hospitality's shit too. If you're calling someone who's enjoying himself, at least bring a damn chair. My legs hurt."
I heard a gasp from behind. Probably one of the underlings.
Raizen burst out laughing again.
"Hahaha! Yeah, might've been rude. You girls, head out."
Raizen gently pushed the women's shoulders.
They left with awkward smiles, and one even brought a chair over to me right before going.
I plopped down in it immediately.
"So, you giving it or not?"
"Do you even know what that is?"
"I do. How could I not?"
I looked at Raizen, my own sneer wiped clean.
Somehow, I felt like I now understood why this guy had died in the future.
"Listen up, merchant fellow. In this world, there are things you can handle and things you can't. Let me ask you straight: do you really think you can sell a demon?"
I suddenly got curious.
Did Raizen grasp the weight behind that question? The fact that his life hung in the balance?
The assassin dispatched to kill him had already closed in right up to his doorstep.
"..."
Raizen fell silent.
* * *
The item on the catalog's last page was a demon with goat horns.
Dark-red skin and fur, ominous pupils slit horizontally, right hand gripping a blood-soaked club, left hand clutching a human head stained with despair and agony.
It felt too realistic to be mere artwork. As real as that 'photo' Alec had shown me.
Thud...
At that moment, the lights dimmed once more, and the host reappeared on stage.
Not the turtle mask.
This time, it was a guy in an eagle mask.
What's this one's name—Eagle?
Anyway, part two seemed to be starting faster than expected...
In the somewhat dimmer lighting, Raizen opened his mouth.
"Do you know how many sacrifices it took to capture that demon alive?"
"Don't know. Don't care. Point is, no matter how much you wanna expand your business, there are lines you don't cross."
"..."
"Putting your hands on a demon crosses that line. You really had no idea?"
You're a Bednicker...? I held those words back for now. His attitude suggested he had no clue about my identity.
In times like this, my hair—different from our other siblings—came in handy.
Rare black hair plus rare golden eyes equals Bednicker. Miss even one, and the name doesn't come to mind easily.
"Business always comes with risks."
"Risks that could get you killed?"
"Sorry, but I've always staked my life on it. Ever since leaving home."
Leaving home.
I rolled the words lightly on my tongue before asking.
"Your home life must've sucked."
"Not that bad. It was a standout family others envied—prosperous and all. The problem was the family trying to infringe on my freedom."
"Freedom?"
"I have no intention of being anyone's tool."
Was he talking about the Iron-Blooded Duke?
I nodded as I looked at Raizen.
"Nice mindset. Might've turned out fine if you'd expanded your business legitimately."
"Where's the line between legitimate and illegitimate business? That's childish talk."
"A merchant can't be completely transparent, sure. The ones who claim they are are usually con artists. Still, you gotta keep some lines."
We'd circled back to the same point.
Truth be told, I wasn't upright enough myself to go preaching sermons like this.
Raizen tilted his head.
"Human rights, ethics, that sort of thing? Sorry, but none of my merchandise has those kinds of flaws."
"What're you talking about?"
"Either they consented themselves, or they've committed crimes bad enough they'd have no complaints being worked as slaves. One or the other."
By then, the first slave had appeared on stage.
A burly, dwarfish man with massive muscles—judging by their shape and the calluses on his fingers, he looked like a craftsman.
Eagle rattled off the explanation.
He's from the famous [Sandstorm Hills] in the south, apparently.
Raizen spoke up.
"Garud Silverfinger. Pretty well-known blacksmith even in the Sandstorm Hills. Volunteered as a slave to work with high-quality metals. To excel in any craft, you need to handle a ton of materials, and the costs are insane, or so he says."
"He sold himself?"
"Close enough. Piled up debt to his limit, no way to pay it back, so he fell into slavery. Skill's guaranteed, though, so he'll probably get sold to some rich house where he can handle all the top-grade metals he wants. Customers don't mistreat slaves they paid top dollar for either. It's slave in name only—they get treated right. That's our auction system. Thoughts?"
Raizen jerked his chin as if to say, speak up if you have something.
I let out a hollow laugh and fired back immediately.
"Bullshit rolls off your tongue smooth as silk. If your system's so great, why not request official cooperation or mediation from the imperial court? I know your type. Shady bastards always skulking in the shadows. The ones who can't face the light."
"Hmm..."
Raizen stroked his chin briefly, then raised both hands as if conceding.
"Guess convincing the customer won't work. Not that you're even a customer to begin with."
The atmosphere shifted in that instant.
Step-.
Men in animal masks stealthily revealed themselves from all directions.
I'd known they were lurking from the start, so it wasn't a surprise.
Raizen spoke.
"The auction's far from over. Handle it quietly—no disturbing the other customers."
"Yes."
Pretending to be furious, I hardened my expression and tossed out a line I'd always wanted to say.
"You'd reject the celebratory cup and choose the poisoned one instead?"
"..."
Truth be told, Raizen had offered the drink first, and I hadn't put any deep meaning into the words myself.
"What's a celebratory cup, and what's poisoned?"
"The celebratory one's me, big bro. I'll get beat half to death, but I'll probably live."
"Big bro?"
Raizen tilted his head at my sudden change in address.
At this point, revealing my identity was only natural, so I took off my mask.
Would he recognize me?
"...You're not—"
Right after I removed it, I caught his pupils trembling faintly. Looked like he did.
"First time seeing me in person? Big bro Raizen. Think you can recognize the baby bro's face?"
"Ruan Bednicker?"
The unexpected reaction came after that.
At Raizen's words, the masked men flinched and started murmuring among themselves.
"Ruan Bednicker..."
"Isn't he the Young Blood who resolved the recent Demon King crisis!"
"Bednicker's Golden Fairy...!"
...Bednicker's, what?