Peddling the National Treasure
The Imperial Palace garden's restricted zone. Solon knelt on the ground, drawing out his holy power like fine threads and pushing it into the soil of the garden.
"Your Highness."
Solon wiped the sweat from his forehead and reported. "The energy being sucked underground is extremely clear. Mana of this scale being drawn beneath the surface... it's not a natural phenomenon."
"The debris."
"None."
Solon hesitated before opening his mouth. "The end of the energy trajectory is the underground rock layer in Zone 17. His Majesty's absolute sealing barrier covers the entire rock formation, so digging any further would violate the imperial decree."
Kasian's jaw twitched faintly. He couldn't touch the barrier. Incurring the Emperor's suspicion was more fatal than the national treasure issue.
"This investigation never happened. Withdraw."
The garden emptied as Solon vanished. Kasian stood alone, clenching his fist. Energy really being sucked underground. It seemed like a plausible explanation. If only there was a single piece of debris. That alone would solve everything, but there was none.
Evening. Zone 17 Bunker control room. Lenia returned. She set down her earpiece and, out of habit, removed the gravel from her shoe and placed it on the camping table.
I began arranging the pieces of information I'd gathered in my head. The manager's confinement. Solon's garden investigation. The search of Zone 17's outskirts.
"Ayla."
"Yeah?"
"What happens if the treasury manager gets suddenly hauled off? Any procedures?"
Ayla set down her fried rice spoon. Her expression changed.
"If it's solitary confinement before formal charges..."
Ayla continued slowly. "It'd be a matter for imperial family direct intervention. Like plugging his mouth before securing evidence? Considering what the manager keeps—"
"The treasury."
"—Yeah. Means something went missing from the banquet."
Ayla's eyes narrowed. "But they mobilized Solon to scour the garden and found nothing."
"Right."
"Using the Bright Knights for a search of Zone 17's outskirts means."
Ayla picked up a ballpoint pen and drew a line on a scrap of paper.
"They can't dig underground, so they'll search above ground instead. Means they believe something's there."
I peered at Ayla's scrap paper. Her drawing was spot-on, but one crucial piece was missing. The decisive one.
"Why Kasian needs to find something."
Ayla paused her pen. "...No idea. If something's gone missing, couldn't he just hush it up? He's the crown prince."
A spark flashed in my mind as I pondered.
"Ah, that thing we saw recently. The national treasure. Maybe using the Tear of the Sun wasn't really about 'consuming' it."
Ayla's eyes widened. I kept mumbling.
"Since we gobbled up the mana, something must've happened to the Tear of the Sun. He has to report it to the Emperor, but he can't say it was used—he needs to claim it was destroyed by an external cause. For that, he needs physical proof."
Silence fell.
"My guess sounds pretty solid, right?"
Ayla stared down at her scrap paper. It was the expression of someone watching Zeke's words overlay her lines, completing the picture.
I slowly turned my head. Control room corner. Floor beneath the circuit breaker panel. The industrial waste that had nearly melted from handling the national treasure's massive energy the night before last. The pitch-black fuse remnants that Ayla and I had risked our lives to replace, still untouched by anyone.
If a mana stone's principle is imprinting energy onto a mineral...
I stood and walked to the circuit breaker panel. I picked up one of the pitch-black fuses from the floor.
The national treasure's energy had pierced through this metal and melted it down. So this fuse wasn't just scrap.
I opened the The Last Survivor System shop.
My finger hesitated. Burn 10 SP just to check a scrap of fuse? But this was an investment for a national treasure-level con.
I clicked my tongue and hit purchase. A flat metal scanner dropped from thin air.
I placed the fuse remnant on the scanner. The scan bar moved. 3 seconds.
Warning: Trace detection of mana waves at Tear of the Sun grade.
The control room went quiet.
"This could serve as proof that the 'Demon King' destroyed the Tear of the Sun. If my guess is right, Kasian desperately needs this 'physical evidence'."
Ayla's mouth fell open. It didn't close. Her red eyes bored into the scanner's warning text.
Lenia's gaze locked on the fuse too. I flicked the fuse remnant with my fingertip. Pitch-black, jagged, industrial waste no one would glance at. Inside it slept the empire's national treasure.
My lip curled up.
"This isn't even a scam. We're selling the real deal."
I spun the fuse between my fingers.
"Even if my guess is wrong, no loss if we try."
Ayla swallowed. Lenia's head tilted slightly. I opened the system shop again. Time to input new keywords into the search bar.
It was time to package this trash as the world's most expensive "national treasure remnant"—a noose for the crown prince.
Next morning. Zone 17 Bunker control room. Spam sizzled. Three servings of rice spun around, filling the room with fried rice aroma from the induction cooker.
I shook the frying pan and voiced the conclusion from last night's simulations.
"Alright, today's agenda. We're selling this fuse scrap to the crown prince."
In the center of the camping table sat the pitch-black fuse remnant. Jagged, one side melted and squished, pure industrial waste.
Ayla poked it with her chopsticks.
"This? As is?"
"Why not?"
"Boss, this looks like trash no matter how you slice it. Even if Kasian's desperate, you think he'll see this black lump and go, 'Oh, national treasure remnant!'?"
Ayla crossed her arms and raised a finger.
"I guarantee you, that guy's obsessed with packaging. If a gift box ribbon's asymmetrical, he fires the servant on the spot. Hand him this, and he'll take it as an insult before negotiations even start."
"So?"
"Obviously, we package it!"
Ayla shot to her feet, spreading her hands. "Put it in a glittering jewel case! On a silk cushion! Write 'Tear of the Sun ─ Residual Fragment' in brush script on fine parchment! It needs a presentation worthy of a national treasure relic at minimum!"
I shoveled fried rice onto plates and tsked.
"Why waste money on that crap. I said this isn't a scam from the start."
I set the plates down and picked up the fuse.
"Real Tear of the Sun-grade mana waves are residual inside this. Even a chief priest like Solon verifying it on-site would get an authentic reaction. Know what the pinnacle of scamming is?"
"...What?"
"Selling the truth."
Topping the fried rice with half-cooked fry, I continued.
"Fancy packaging breeds suspicion. The moment the buyer wonders, 'Why put so much effort into this fuse?', we're not sellers—we're con artists. Think opposite. We slap down the bare fuse remnant with no frills, and his priest verifies national treasure-grade mana on the spot?"
Ayla's chopsticks hit her plate.
"...The lack of packaging itself becomes proof of confidence."
"Bingo. If verification shows it's real, no packaging needed. The bare presentation turns into fear marketing: 'We don't need to dress it up.' All we need is one thing—a vacuum pack. Keeps residual mana from dissipating into the air and gives the impression of 'handled by professionals'."
I opened the system shop.
A flat vacuum sealer dropped from thin air. I placed the fuse remnant on the transparent plastic and fed it into the machine.
Whiiir—click. Air sucked out, plastic clung tight to the fuse surface. The pitch-black industrial waste transformed into forensic evidence.
"Jewel case? Nah, one plastic sheet does it."
"...Can't argue with that."
Ayla peered regretfully at the fuse pack. Across the table, Lenia Bright had already cleared her plate. Inhaled it the moment she sat, as usual. Her spotless plate next to perfectly aligned chopsticks evoked military ammo rack maintenance.
"Delicious."
"Lenia."
She straightened more at her name.
"You're taking this to Kasian today."
"Understood."
End. No follow-ups. I glanced at Ayla, then back at Lenia.
"...Lenia, what do you think of the word 'negotiation'?"
0.3 seconds of silence. Lenia's shoulders stiffened—barely perceptible, microscope-level.
"No experience in non-combat negotiations."
Honest. Yeah, never expected lies from her.
"Testing the earpiece."
Lenia pointed to the small radio earpiece in her ear. Still plugged in from yesterday's issue.
"You slept with that in?"
"Orders may come."
"...Wear it only on duty now."
I brought the transmitter mic to my mouth.
"Receiving?"
"Receiving."
0.5-second delay. Flat intonation. Mechanical echo.
"Good. Now, rehearsal time."
I cleared the plates from the camping table, setting up an impromptu negotiation sim space.