Childcare (1)
"Yaaawn..."
Boring. Utterly, dreadfully boring.
There used to be no shortage of scoundrels dropping by to hawk stolen goods under the guise of things they had 'found' or 'inherited.' Lately, though, not a single one had shown their face. Tsk, a bunch of spineless cowards, the lot of them. No ambition these days. None at all.
Granted, getting caught fencing stolen property was a one-way ticket to a dungeon cell, so their hesitation was somewhat understandable. Shops like mine—willing to buy merchandise off walk-in customers without asking questions—naturally drew relentless scrutiny from the constabulary and the city watch. Whenever a theft was reported, the guards would barge in unannounced, shoving notices in my face demanding I report such-and-such item if it turned up, tossing the entire place upside down in search of contraband. Under that kind of heat, anyone sitting on hot goods would think twice before rushing to sell.
Of course, I had my own ways of bypassing every single one of those risks. The trouble was, if I went around advertising that fact, I would be forced to shutter the business and flee the kingdom before sundown, so I had no choice but to keep my mouth shut. And since the handful of rogues who actually fenced through me were not stupid enough to brag about it, the wider public remained blissfully unaware of what I truly dealt in.
Sigh... Humans. Why was it that with every passing era, all that remained were cowards?
Tinkle—
"...Oh?"
Right on cue, the bell perched above the shop door chimed.
Speak of the devil. The moment I started badmouthing the clientele, one walked right through the door. It never failed to amaze me. Not a scrap of divination magic was woven into that bell, yet it happened every single time. Some things in this world simply defied magical explanation—fate had a twisted sense of humor.
"Welco—"
The greeting died in my throat.
...Ugh.
What in the world was this?
The very atmosphere of the shop shifted the instant the figure crossed the threshold. The stagnant, musty air—thick with dust and the stench of mildew—vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a suffocating pressure reminiscent of the deepest, most treacherous depths of a dungeon, saturated with dense, roiling mana.
And that was hardly all.
The robe draped over the stranger's shoulders was a magical artifact of such staggering craftsmanship that even I, someone who had appraised countless treasures over the centuries, could not begin to gauge its worth. At a glance, its drab, rat-hide gray looked hideous and cheap, but that was merely a disguise designed to fool ignorant fools. From outward appearances alone, it was clearly crafted to suppress naturally leaking mana to an absurd degree... Yet whatever power lurked beneath was leaking out anyway, rendering the robe virtually useless. Just how ridiculously powerful was this—
"Ooh... aaung..."
...A baby?
My gaze dropped. Cradled securely in the entity's arms was a tiny human infant.
It was a bizarre, surreal sight that clashed violently with the oppressive aura of an apex predator. Under normal circumstances, if someone dragged a bawling infant into my shop, I would have thrown them out on their ear and asked if they mistook my establishment for a nursery. But uttering such words to the terrifying figure before me felt like a guaranteed way to forfeit my life on the spot.
"I was told you purchase items of any nature, provided they possess value."
His voice was low, archaic, and chillingly resonant.
"...Y-yes. That is correct."
Paying no heed to my terror-stricken demeanor, the mysterious behemoth reached into his cloak and drew out an assortment of breathtaking, resplendent jewels. Not merely high-grade mana stones and bloodstones, but gemstones meticulously carved into blossoming flowers, vivid pink diamonds, lustrous black pearls—each an impossibly rare marvel of nature and craftsmanship.
"Th-these are..."
"Choose one to purchase."
"...Excuse me?"
"Do you possess the wealth to settle the sum for all of them? If so, I shall retract my words and offer an apology."
I bristled at the condescension, but I could not refute him.
In all my centuries handling curious and precious goods, I had never seen such staggering, astronomical wealth gathered in a single place. Every one of these stones could command whatever price the seller fancied, and matching the cost for even a fraction of them would bleed my entire fortune dry.
"In that case... I shall take this one. What is it called?"
"Eclipse."
Mmh... It was a stone I had never laid eyes upon, bearing a name I had never heard.
Yet I knew instantly that this was no trick or counterfeit. Partly because of the sheer aura radiating from the stranger, but far more due to the impossible presence of the gem itself.
The sphere was pitch-black, an utter void that reflected neither light nor shadow, shaped into a flawless, mathematical orb. Yet the light it cast was the exact opposite of its midnight body—a brilliant corona of radiant gold.
What truly sent chills down my spine was the optical impossibility: no matter what angle you viewed it from, that golden luminescence appeared strictly along the jewel's silhouette. From every vantage point, the spherical core remained an absolute, lightless abyss, while its outer rim blazed with an ethereal golden halo, as though a two-dimensional eclipse had been forcefully manifested into three-dimensional space.
...This is going to cost an ungodly fortune.
"How much?"
"Appraise it. If the sum is appropriate, I shall accept."
I nearly pulled my hair out. Now he was demanding I make the first offer!
If I threw out too steep a price, he would just snatch it up and—wait.
Something was off.
Telling me to appraise it myself, going out of his way to seek out a dingy back-alley shop like this... Could it be that he had no grasp of currency whatsoever?
"How does... twenty-five thousand gold sound?"
"Twenty-five thousand, you say..."
He really doesn't know!
Seeing him actually ponder the figure confirmed it. He had zero financial sense.
Twenty-five thousand gold was certainly a king's ransom by any normal standard, but it did not amount to a fraction of a fraction of what a relic like the Eclipse was worth. Just selecting a few modest-sized specimens from the supreme-grade mana stones and bloodstones he had displayed earlier would easily fetch well over twenty-five thousand gold.
"Very well. It is a deal."
"...!"
Wait... can I actually take this?
I never dreamed he would agree so readily.
If I closed this deal, the profit margin would be astronomical. I could shutter the shop and live in decadence for the foreseeable future.
However... that was painfully short-sighted.
The moment he realized he had been swindled, one of two things would happen: he would never return to sell his treasures again, or he would fly into a rage and slaughter me where I stood.
No. I could not let immediate greed blind me.
"Ahem! On second thought, I shall add another twenty thousand gold on top, bringing the total to forty-five thousand."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes. In exchange, please visit my shop whenever you find yourself in need of coin in the future."
Good, this should suffice. I would secure a regular customer, and my neck would remain firmly attached to my shoulders—
"It seems you quoted me far too low an initial price."
...Huh?
He had zero financial sense, but his wits were razor-sharp...?!
"Well... you see..."
"Pay it no mind. I have little need for such vast sums of coin in any case."
No, I'm the one losing my mind here! Who on earth just casually nods and says 'pay it no mind' after nearly being ripped off?!
"Furthermore, I have one final inquiry. By appearances, you seem to be an elf. Having lived a long life, you must possess a breadth of knowledge."
"What... might that be?"
My heart seized once more. How many shocks was I going to endure today?
How had he seen through my disguise? I had sheared off the tips of my pointed ears, my hair was brittle and dull, and I gorged myself on greasy meat and alcohol every single day. Having abandoned nature centuries ago, I thought any trace of elven presence had been thoroughly erased.
Knowledge from an elf... Could he be searching for the hidden enclaves of my kin, or perhaps some ancient—
"Ooh... aawoo..."
"Do you know what ingredients are required to prepare baby food for an infant, and how to cook it?"
"...Pardon?"
What on earth was he talking about all of a sudden?
'Prepare grain flour, meat, and vegetables in a weight ratio of two to two to three, then add water to adjust the thickness so an infant can digest it properly. Given Lucia's current size, water equal to three times the combined weight of the ingredients should be appropriate...'
She had added that the meat could be substituted with fish or eggs, any vegetable would do, and a splash of fish or meat broth could help cater to the baby's palate.
It sounded a bit haphazard, but surely the advice of an elf who had roamed the world for centuries was more reliable than the guesswork of a clueless bachelor like me.
'Let's see. If I mix it like this... Hm?'
I tasted a dab.
...It had no flavor.
No, seriously. With all those ingredients combined, there should have been some kind of taste, right?
I took a bite of a raw carrot just to check—nothing. It tasted like chewing on rubbery air.
'Is something wrong with me?'
In Noah, demons were clearly depicted indulging in lavish banquets, so why couldn't I taste anything? Was this a demon issue, or a quirk unique to Faust's physiology?
Well... regardless of my malfunctioning taste buds, I had strictly used edible human food and followed the elf's recipe to the letter, so it should be fine, right?
"Eat."
"Ah, ah..."
Cradling Lucia carefully against my chest, I scooped up a small spoonful of the warm porridge and brought it to her lips.
In stark contrast to my gentle handling, the words that tore from my demonic throat were horribly curt and frigidly haughty, but to an infant who could not understand human speech anyway, tone meant little.
Held tenderly in massive, terrifying arms, Lucia stared at the spoon clutched in my monstrous, scaled hand and the mush it carried, letting out tiny, eager coos.
"Abuu..."
'She's eating so well...'
Whenever I had scrolled through videos of parents feeding their babies online back in my past life, the infants were always squirming, crying, or violently turning their heads away. Lucia, however, showed none of that fussiness. She latched onto the spoon and gulped down the porridge hungrily, cleaning it in a heartbeat.
While my palate could not register the flavor at all, it seemed to suit her tastes just fine. Or perhaps she was simply that starved.
'...She really is adorable.'
She was terribly gaunt and frail compared to healthy infants, but poverty and starvation could not mask her natural sweetness.
Her blinking, wide black eyes and the way she flailed her tiny limbs in desperate enthusiasm to get another mouthful were heart-meltingly precious.
Ever since waking up in Faust's body, witnessing human death had not provoked even a flicker of emotion in me. Yet a fragile creature like this could stir such genuine warmth. Demonic physiology was truly a mystery I would never fathom.