The Start of the Second Year (2)
The Start of the Second Year (2)
The second-year classes weren't all that different.
Although there were fewer liberal arts classes, the classes themselves hadn't changed much, and the Knight Faculty classes kept sending us rolling around in the dirt just as hard as they had in our first year.
Instead of sparring among ourselves, we now faced the Academy knights as our opponents.
On top of that, Katrin wasn't the only one sparring with the students; Knight Faculty professors from the other years came by as well.
The students began to suffer all over again as the difficulty suddenly spiked, but I was left awkwardly in limbo.
After Katrin threw up her hands in defeat, saying she had nothing left to teach me, the other knights and professors became extremely reluctant to spar with me.
In the end, my sparring sessions turned into personal training time.
As I trained by myself, Katrin walked over and grumbled.
"Shouldn't you skip a grade or something?"
She complained that watching me train alone wasn't good for the other students, or for the professors teaching the class.
Still, it was easy to read her true feelings.
She seemed to think it was a shame that I was wasting my time.
But skipping a grade was no simple matter.
"That's impossible. My liberal arts grades aren't very good."
"I heard you did well on the exams, though."
"Well, I got all the multiple-choice questions right, but my scores on the essay questions and the rest of the practical evaluations aren't great."
"Is that still a thing?"
"It seems there's this thing called custom."
The custom that high-ranking nobles must occupy the top ranks.
The custom that royalty must place in the top five, and that commoners, no matter how outstanding their skills, cannot exceed a certain score.
And at the very end of that custom, it was undoubtedly written that an illegitimate child could never, under any circumstances, place first.
When I said that, Katrin let out a sigh.
"The country that Hero Carlos built wasn't supposed to be like this... Surely, it won't be long before this kingdom crumbles."
It seemed she, too, had plenty of grievances.
It was a simple grumble, but to my ears, it sounded strangely like a prophecy.
"Alright, I'll look into a way."
After watching me train by myself for the first week, Katrin said she'd look into it, then skipped class starting the very next day.
Although another professor took over the class, the sudden change of instructor set the students whispering, leaving me thoroughly awkward.
After that chaotic first week, the weekend arrived, packed with appointments.
I woke early and pulled out the backpack I'd hidden deep inside my room.
Today, I planned to sell off the items I'd brought back from the Viscount's territory.
To do that, I boarded a carriage I'd chartered for the day and headed toward the commercial district in the eastern part of the capital.
Deep within the commercial district lay the black market. There was one place there that I knew well and frequented.
Leaving the carriage parked a short distance away, I walked toward the three-story building I'd visited before.
It had been almost a year since my first visit, yet the place remained completely unchanged.
On my first visit, I'd gone to great lengths to disguise myself, but there was no need for that anymore.
It didn't matter whether my face was hidden beneath a robe pulled low over it.
All I had to do was show the ring on my finger.
Since buying the ring at the auction house, I could be identified by it alone.
Though hulking brutes were stationed all along the stairs and corridors, they quickly cleared the way when they saw the ring on my finger.
It seemed some strange rumors had been circulating.
When I went up to the third floor, I saw the woman who ran the auctions. Just as when I'd first seen her, she was sitting at the reception desk.
On the other side, mercenaries sat waiting.
There were quite a few bona fide mercenaries today.
It seemed the recession had passed.
I wondered whether I'd have to wait in line, but apparently, there was no need.
"Fortunately, the previous customer is coming out. You may go right in."
The woman pointed inside, speaking in her auctioneer's voice. Her tone still sounded just like a bank teller's from my past life.
"Hey, I'm next!"
One of the mercenaries shouted when he saw this, but fell silent immediately after hearing what another mercenary whispered in his ear.
I had no idea what on earth the other mercenary had said to shut him up so quickly.
Amid the strange atmosphere, I headed toward the room I visited every time.
The mercenary who came out of the room had a terrible expression. It looked like the owner had ripped him off.
I knocked on the door the mercenary had just come out of and stepped inside.
As always, the ordinary-looking owner welcomed me.
"What kind of information are you here to buy today?"
To him, I must have seemed like a great source of funds and an easy target. Still, as I'd sensed before, there seemed to be more to his welcome than that.
When I asked him about it and mentioned what I'd noticed on my way up, he gave me a peculiar look.
"On the day of the auction, the assassin sent by the Viscount died, and shortly after, the Viscount himself died as well."
He clasped his hands together and shuddered.
"Who wouldn't be terrified in a situation like that?"
It was certainly enough to spark some bizarre rumors.
I considered telling him I had nothing to do with it, but he probably wouldn't believe me—and, in truth, I was far too involved.
Since the rumors actually made getting around easier, I decided to ignore them.
"I'm planning to sell some items today rather than buy information."
At my words, he leaned forward.
"Is it an artifact?"
Unfortunately, it wasn't an artifact. What I'd obtained from the Viscount's territory was a broken artifact.
The intact artifacts had been left on the Viscount's corpse.
Should I have taken them with me back then?
The thought crossed my mind for a moment, but vanished as soon as I recalled the items in my backpack.
"Surely, you don't only deal in artifacts on the black market?"
Hearing that it wasn't an artifact, the owner leaned back in his chair again.
He answered with a relaxed expression.
"Of course not. While artifacts yield higher profits, it's impossible to sustain ourselves on them alone. After all, our primary customers are mercenaries and ordinary folk."
It seemed that artifacts let them strike it rich all at once, but they kept up other illicit transactions to maintain a stable foundation and steady revenue.
"By any chance, did you bring items that can't be shown in public?"
He glanced at the backpack slung over my back.
"I don't think that should matter to you."
"Of course not. This is the black market, after all. Whether you secretly stole them from your own family or plundered them from someone else, it makes no difference to us. But I must warn you in advance that you won't get as high a price as you did for the artifact."
Don't tell me he was planning to rip me off too.
But there were far too many items for him to lowball me.
I shrugged, and he gestured again.
"Shall we take a look at the goods, then?"
I looked around the room.
There was no way we could do that here.
"Do you have another warehouse? It'll be difficult to show you here."
"Ah, you have an artifact pouch as well? In that case, there might be more than I thought."
He nodded and stood up.
"If the quantity is large, I can give you a good price. If they're not ordinary items, they could fetch quite a sum."
He led me down to the basement.
The second floor was an exhibition room, the first floor was their meeting room and office, and it seemed the basement was used as a warehouse.
Fortunately, the warehouse was larger than expected and completely empty.
As I surveyed the empty warehouse, the Auction House Owner scratched his head.
"I can't lie to you, of all people, since you buy information from me every time."
"To be honest, even the black market is severely short on goods right now. The Kingdom's grim situation has affected us, too. Occasionally, goods from plunder come in, but they barely make a dent. More than a few territories are secretly stockpiling supplies, so there's no surplus left."
Whether because we'd traded information for so long or because he was afraid of me, he let a little intel slip.
If the black market was in this state, it went without saying what conditions were like in the markets where commoners and territory residents bought their goods.
At this rate, even if a civil war didn't break out within a few years, riots surely would.
"Honestly, it might be better if he just died quickly..."
Even the Auction House Owner was murmuring things like that.
At any rate, a warehouse this size was unlikely to overflow.
I took off the backpack and untied the cord securing its opening.
"What do you have in that backpack? It must be quite large, seeing as you couldn't fit it into an artifact pouch."
Indeed, it would be hard to fit in an artifact pouch.
I turned the backpack upside down and gave it a thorough shake.
Rumble.
Goods came pouring out of the backpack.
High-quality fabrics tumbled out, followed by silver tableware, gold spoons, various weapons, and even suits of armor, all in a chaotic heap.
"No, this is..."
Watching the pile of goods grow higher and higher, the Auction House Owner, the 'Divine Sword Tracker', stood with his mouth agape.
His eyes widened to their absolute limit, and drool practically dripped from his open mouth.
But the supplies piling up on the floor weren't what he was staring at with his mouth open.
He was staring at the backpack, which was still pouring out items endlessly.
Thunk.
Only after the supplies had piled up enough to fill the entire warehouse did the backpack finally stop producing items.
"This is all of it. Could you calculate the total?"
At my words, he finally tore his eyes away from the backpack and turned toward me. His eyes gleamed with a strange light.
"Of course I'll calculate it for you. No, wait, I'll buy them without taking a single penny of profit! I don't care if I take a loss. Please, sell me that backpack!"
Without even looking at the supplies piled on the floor, he clung to my leg.
"I don't know how many years it's been since a magic backpack appeared on the market. With this kind of capacity, plenty of people would be willing to buy it no matter the price. Sell it to me! Or better yet, let me put it up for auction. Can we do that right away?"
He hadn't reacted this strongly even when he'd seen the artifact pouch; it seemed a magic backpack was an even more incredible item than I'd thought.
There was no way I would sell such an incredible item.
"No. This is not for sale."
He instantly became dejected.
"I suppose so. That's only natural."
Since I'd refused to sell it, the owner thankfully gave up on his greed.
It was a relief that strange rumors had spread about me. Otherwise, I might have ended up killing an information broker by mistake.
A moment later, having regained his composure, the Auction House Owner calculated the value of the supplies piled in the warehouse and paid me.
Artifacts were certainly expensive.
To think that a single ring on my finger was worth half of all the supplies filling this warehouse.
Though the goods amounted to an immense quantity, their total value was only the price of the first artifact I'd sold.
Even that, though, was enough to buy a mansion in the capital.
Considering this was the price after they'd been marked down because they were stolen goods, it was easy to see just how much the Viscount had extorted from his people.
Even as he handed over the gold coins, the owner kept grumbling while staring at the backpack, but there was no way I would sell such an important item.
Thinking about it, it was immediately obvious what an incredible role this backpack would play in a war.
With just this one backpack, a century—no, an entire order of knights—could move without a supply train.
I'd seen for myself just how amazing that was, both in the books I'd read in my past life and in the ruins of the seal.
My wealth had tripled, leaving me thoroughly satisfied and in a generous mood.
But I had no intention of extending that generosity to the Grand Archduchess.
After finishing my business at the black market, I visited the Grand Prince's mansion and laid out the artifacts before the Grand Archduchess.
"Here are the artifacts I brought. They're broken, but you should be able to repair them easily, Your Grace."
The Grand Archduchess was greatly surprised to see the artifacts I'd laid out.
It was because I'd gone home for the break and returned with a pile of broken artifacts.
"Please let me know once you've repaired them. I'll come back for them."
"Pardon? You're just going to take them?"
"Yes, these are items I went to great trouble to obtain just to help improve your skills, Grand Archduchess. I'm sorry, but I can't just give them to you for free."
"No, I'm not asking you to give them to me. What about the repair fee? Their value changes once they're fixed."
'Damn, that didn't work.'
I clicked my tongue inwardly so the Grand Archduchess wouldn't notice.
If it had been the Princess, she would have fallen for it, but the Grand Archduchess was a highly practical woman, contrary to her appearance.
In the end, we entered into negotiations.
"These are items I worked hard to obtain. If we sell them, I'll give you half of the profits."
"No. You should give me eighty percent of the profits."
"Then, sixty percent."
"Even so, I must receive at least seventy percent."
I grumbled quietly at the shrewd Grand Archduchess's words.
"I mean, why do you need so much money anyway?"
"I can't remain tied to the Duchy forever, either. I should take this opportunity to become independent."
It seemed the Grand Archduchess had let something slip while we were talking.
Seeing the fluster in her eyes, I pretended not to have heard.
"Let's make it sixty percent."
"...Alright."
In exchange for pretending not to hear, we agreed that I would take an extra ten percent.
Mind you, it was sixty percent of the profit, not sixty percent of the selling price.
Though the Grand Archduchess didn't know it, the cost price of these broken artifacts was zero. Since they were all stolen goods, there was no way they had any cost price.
Therefore, I could set the cost price of these artifacts however I pleased.
Since I wasn't exactly a saint, the cost price was bound to be heavily inflated.
My thanks to the honest Grand Archduchess.
Having handed the artifacts over to the Grand Archduchess, I returned to the dormitory with a light heart.
And then came Monday.
It seemed I had thrown my weight around with the Grand Archduchess a bit too much.
The groups for the second-year group project were decided, and it seemed the Grand Archduchess and the Princess had exerted far too much influence.
No matter how I looked at it, the group I ended up in was bound to become the greatest, yet worst, group project team in history.