The Shameless Scammer (1)
"What kind of scam did you fall for, exactly?"
"That bastard of a scammer is selling rock chips for four gold coins apiece! My mother bought several of them and lost every last coin she'd saved!"
The young man shouted, his voice thick with injustice, raking his fingers wildly through his hair.
Four gold coins was enough for a person to live on comfortably for an entire year. Even a single gold coin was a fortune to a commoner.
"Who's the scammer?"
"A stranger who showed up in the village recently. He goes around calling himself a peddler, but anyone can see he's a con man."
Figures. The scammer wasn't a local — he was an outsider.
"Do you know where he's staying?"
"I heard he's lodging at Mr. Thomas's house."
"He hasn't left the village yet?"
"No. He's not just scamming my mother — he's working his tricks on other people too. Looks like he plans to stick around for a while."
This was a rural village with nothing resembling a proper inn. The scammer was apparently boarding in a villager's home.
Not even a hit-and-run job — he's settling in to fatten himself up? Greedy little bastard.
Greed invited calamity. And if calamity didn't come on its own, I'd deliver it personally.
"He should just work hard and earn his money like everyone else! I don't understand why he has to live by fleecing other people! I'm so furious I could die!"
The young man vented his rage.
"Calm down. It's not too late. The scammer is still in the village, so we can get your money back."
"Haa… Thank you just for saying that, sir."
"I won't stop at words. I'll get your money back for you."
At my steady, measured tone, the young man finally seemed to come back to himself and settled down.
"We'll talk more on the way to the scammer."
I said it and started to move — but for some reason, the young man didn't budge.
"Is something wrong?"
"Uh… didn't this young lady here arrive first?"
He glanced sideways at Silvia, gauging her reaction. He seemed to have mistaken her for someone who'd come to ask me for a favor ahead of him.
"Excuse me… would it be all right if I went first? It's truly urgent. If you'd yield your turn, I'll make it up to you somehow later!"
He cried out, staring at Silvia with a desperate expression.
Silvia herself looked startled, as if she hadn't expected attention to land on her at all. But the flustered look vanished in the blink of an eye. Just like that, her usual cold, haughty expression slid back into place. You could feel the practiced poise of a noble young lady who'd lived that life her whole life.
"It's fine. I'm not Sir Rix's client."
"I-is that so?"
"Mm. So you don't need my permission."
When Silvia waved it off in her refined young-lady manner, the young man finally exhaled a long breath of relief.
"Whew. Thank you."
Silvia gave a light nod and stepped back behind me.
"Now let's actually go catch that scammer."
"Yes! I'll show you the way!"
The young man took the lead. Impatience drove his pace — he was practically running.
"Come to think of it, I never asked your name. What should I call you?"
"Jones. My name is Jones. It's not a name worth remembering, sir. I'm just grateful you're helping me — feel free to forget it."
Jones dismissed his own name as something trivial and hurried his steps along.
Thud, thud.
Jones, Silvia, and I made our way toward Mr. Thomas's house, where the scammer was staying. Before long, we arrived. It was an ordinary house, the kind commoners lived in.
Bang bang bang!
Jones pounded on the wooden door.
"Mr. Thomas! Are you home?!"
From inside came the sound of someone moving about in a hurry. Then the door opened.
A short but solidly built man stepped out. An unfamiliar face.
That's not Mr. Thomas. Someone else entirely.
A stranger I'd never seen before. Which meant…
"Hey! You damn scammer!"
Sure enough — this was the man. The moment Jones laid eyes on him, he lost control. Snarling, he swung a fist hard at the man's face —
Whoosh!
The scammer slipped the punch with practiced ease, then shoved the young man hard in the side.
Crash!
"Urgh!"
Jones went down in an undignified sprawl.
He knows how to handle himself. Well, a scammer who wants to stay alive would have to know how to protect his own hide.
This was an age when fists were closer than the law. Anyone who'd survived as a con man was bound to be a competent fighter.
"What the hell is your problem, jumping me out of nowhere?"
The scammer looked down at the fallen Jones and spat the words out irritably.
Jones scrambled up and settled into a fighting stance. It was an extremely clumsy posture — the stance of a man who'd never thrown a punch in his life. He had no chance of winning.
"Jones. Calm down. You won't win a fight with him."
"Grrh… Understood, sir."
Jones swallowed his anger and dropped his guard. The scammer didn't so much as twitch, watching Jones with easy composure — the bearing of a stronger man who knew exactly how much stronger he was.
"So? What business do you have with me? Coming at me with fists on first meeting, no less."
The scammer asked, eyes on Jones. I cut in before Jones could answer.
"I hear you've been running scams."
"There seems to be some misunderstanding. I'm a peddler. I sold goods at a fair price, nothing more."
The scammer lied with brazen smoothness. Jones, unable to contain himself, burst out at once.
"You sold those worthless rock chips for gold coins and you call that a fair price?! Have you no conscience, you scamming bastard?!"
He shouted — but his body stayed put. He'd clearly realized that a fight would end with him on the losing side.
The scammer remained utterly unfazed by Jones's tirade. He dug a finger casually into one ear, radiating leisure.
"Haa. This is why you can't deal with uneducated types. How many times do I have to say it? Those aren't just rock chips."
He jerked his chin toward me and went on.
"You look like a man of some learning. Am I right?"
"Yeah. You are."
The scammer's face twisted at being addressed so casually. I had no reason to use polite speech with a con man. Courtesy was reserved for people who deserved respect.
He sized me up, then carefully smoothed the scowl from his face. My clothes — and Silvia's — must have told him we weren't commoners.
"What I sold weren't rock chips. They were mana stones. A gentleman like yourself would know what those are, yes?"
Mana stones. Stone-like substances found inside the bodies of monsters and magical beasts. They held mana and could be put to all sorts of uses — and they were, of course, far more valuable than ordinary rocks.
"Would you kindly educate this unschooled fool for me, my lord? I sold mana stones at a fair price. I did not sell rock chips."
The scammer stood there looking utterly blameless, his confidence soaring sky-high.
But I could see through it.
"Your mouth sure runs free with lies, doesn't it."
"W-what did you just say?"
"I'm saying I can see plain as day that you're lying."
It was a thin little word game. He had sold mana stones, true enough — but he hadn't sold them at a fair price.
Mana stones varied wildly in value depending on quality. A high-grade stone might cost more than a sack of gold coins could cover. A low-grade one could be had for a handful of copper.
This scammer had taken the cheapest grade of mana stone and inflated the price several times over.
His face crumpled.
"Even a noble shouldn't go around falsely accusing an innocent man. I could report this as an insult against the merchant company I belong to."
Now he was threatening me.
"If you don't want to make an enemy of my company, you'd best take those words back."
An absurd threat. A merchant company's power wasn't something to dismiss lightly — but against true nobility, they weren't even in the same league. Silvia alone could crush a middling trading house without breaking a sweat. That kind of bluff only worked on insignificant nobles.
Wait. I am an insignificant noble.
The banished bastard son of a count's house. To this scammer's eyes, I must have looked like easy prey. Of course he hadn't fully figured out who I was. Living out in a country village, he'd simply guessed I was some low-ranking noble. Clever little rat. Leave it to a scammer to have instincts that sharp.
"Interesting thing to say."
"My lord. I won't accept an apology — just leave quietly. You don't want to make an enemy of my company, do you?"
"You claim I falsely accused you."
False accusation. Slandering someone with lies to pin a crime on them. The sheer gall of it — a liar calling the other person a liar.
"Then let's get to the truth of it."
"…Pardon?"
Confusion flickered across the scammer's face. He'd realized his threats weren't landing.
"Let's find out which one of us is the liar."
I'd originally planned to recover the money and let him off with a light punishment. But on top of fraud, he'd added intimidation. And he'd had the nerve to call me a liar…
"You'd better brace yourself."