Chapter 116
Chapter 116
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 115
Chapter Title: Black Market (1)
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The day after confirming the empire's stability had skyrocketed.
Thanks to finally getting a full night's sleep, all my fatigue had vanished.
Maybe this round really would end in a happy ending.
Of course, I'd have to achieve the rank of Grandmaster, but it wasn't an impossible task.
I'd reached near that level back when I was Knight Commander.
Plus, in this life, I'd consumed the imperial elixirs.
If I steadily devoted myself to training while holding down the warden job, it was plenty possible.
However, to keep that warden position, there was still one massive hurdle left to clear.
The 'Tutton Grand Duchess'.
Her axe was so famous they said it could cleave through a massive city wall in a single stroke.
To withstand that brutal strike, I'd need considerable preparation.
So, the moment lunchtime hit after arriving at work, I slipped out of the prison.
And the place I headed to was...
The North's premier black market, 'Nameless Market'.
To counter the Grand Duchess—who'd be slathered in all sorts of buffs—I planned to buy some buff potions myself.
'First time since I lived as a crime lord. Ten years now?'
"Fresh shipment just in from the Violet Magic Tower—swiftness potions!!"
The Violet Magic Tower was the place that had been thoroughly ransacked by Chief Page Auditor recently.
They must've dumped all their illegal potions here to hide them.
As such, Nameless Market was full of unpermitted goods that performed like absolute beasts.
That was why you saw black mages, gangsters, beastkin, and other non-humans milling about without rarity.
'It's unusually crowded today. Probably because the Walter Group's collapse flooded the market with corruption-related goods.'
If you got pickpocketed in a place like this, it'd be a disaster.
Especially with a big match ahead, I needed to stay low-key and just grab the buff potions.
With that in mind, I wandered the streets.
But for some reason...
"Don't make eye contact. That's the Minster family's delinquent."
"Here for poison to use against the Tutton Grand Duchess? Scary-looking guy, as expected."
The quieter I tried to be, the more attention I drew.
Underworld folks were plugged into info networks, so almost none were unaware of my notoriety.
"W-Welcome... Warden. Looking for something specific...?"
A black mage with dark circles like mine greeted me nervously.
Like she'd run into a shadowy overlord of some dark syndicate.
"Just browsing."
I looked down at her flatly in my black uniform.
She was short, but the mana flowing from her body seemed potent—good sign for quality goods.
"Y-Yes!! An honor. Please, take your time."
'An honor? Really...'
Leaving the overly tense woman behind, I scanned the potions on display.
My anxious face kept reflecting in the glass vials, but damn, there were some fine elixirs here.
'Werewolf-made miracle drug? Never even saw this in my past life. Wild.'
"K-Knew you'd be interested. Perfect for a man who commands women like you, Warden."
The black-haired woman in twin tails clapped her hands.
"Commands women? What?"
"It's so famous, they say one of the former prime ministers used it. One dose permanently boosts stamina massively."
"No, what you said earlier..."
"Ahaha, forget I said that. It's just so versatile, I phrased it crudely."
The woman flinched at my blank expression.
"Hm... I'll hold off on this for now. Permanent stamina boost is definitely top-tier."
His presence certainly drew a lot of eyes in the black market.
Most with fear or sycophancy.
But one person among them eyed him with pure wariness.
Conan Bright, the North's commander, secretly tailing him on her black market patrol.
"Even for a patriotic youth, he's confusing me today."
"What do you mean by that?"
Her companion, True Ancestor Franca, asked.
One in a white dress with a long-sleeved cardigan, the other in military pants and a sleeveless tee—the commander.
They gave off vibes like sisters with a big age gap.
"This is the North's most dangerous spot. Black mages, exiled hardcore criminals—crawling with 'em."
"Can tell at a glance."
Franca nodded, eyeing the dusty grimoires on display.
Among them, even ones marked with her old red cross symbol.
"Our military cracks down hard, but they keep relocating—tough to pin down. Yet the warden knew the spot instantly."
"That's 'cause you're too much in the light."
Conan raised an eyebrow at Franca's abstract words.
Kid's still young, so her expressions are quirky?
"Light strong? Darkness retreats. To use places like this, you need the right shade of dark."
"So Derek, coming here solo, is close to darkness?"
The North's commander actually listened to the younger girl.
Franca suddenly thought that humble attitude was what got her the high post.
"Derek's got that 'madness' you lack. Madness draws to madness, so he sniffed this place out easy."
"Dark ones stick together, huh? Guess he is dangerous."
Franca tipped up her wide-brim hat.
Her unbelievably pink eyes glared sullenly up at Conan.
"If all dark's dangerous like you say, why'd the Creator make it? Including me..."
True Ancestor cleared her throat, as if catching her slip.
"Darkness was born to punish what light can't touch."
"So Derek Minster's the darkness needed to punish evil?"
Franca struck a proud pose, hands on hips like she was one too.
But she didn't feel particularly mad or dark.
"Exactly."
"......"
Conan, raised as an only child, blankly stared at the glutinous rice cake cheeks held high before her.
Then she grabbed them with both hands, kneading as they watched Derek together.
Not just them were watching the warden.
Anje and Myoran huddled on the sofa in his office.
And Clea, pretending to sort files while sneaking peeks.
The three watched the man via a crystal orb linked to a white crow on the black market roof.
"What's he doing at the black market."
"Maybe shopping for a gift for Camillia...?"
The warden's serious gaze in the orb.
They watched his choices with very aggrieved expressions.
"These goods are solid."
"Right? I risked my neck for 'em."
"This one's for boosting yang energy, yeah?"
"Spot on. Werewolf favorite for frostbite patients or cold-natured mages."
I glanced at the price tag.
1000 gold... price of a horse.
"Good for folks with cold hands and feet too?"
"Absolutely. For a lover, maybe?"
Lover.
At those two words, Myoran and Anje bored holes into the orb.
Lifting their butts off the sofa.
"Not a lover, but someone just as precious. Someone I want to protect, you know."
Cold hands and feet meant Myoran.
She lifted her long braided hair to cover her lips.
"As expected...!"
The moon woman blushed with feminine eyes.
Anje and Clea went stone-faced cold in unison.
"One minute he's all 'gonna kidnap you unconscious'..."
Triumphant Myoran flopped onto the sofa.
Anje grabbed her offending foot and flipped it behind her back.
Then they focused on his next purchase.
"This next too. Ankle bracelet?"
I set the black-ribbon knot bracelet on the counter.
The black mage girl nodded fast, sensing my discerning eye.
"Actually for the ankle. Protects the wearer's feet, induces sound sleep."
The hollow-eyed girl lifted her long skirt hem slightly.
Revealing the same item on her slender ankle.
Pretty aesthetically too.
"I use it myself."
"If the boss swears by it, I trust it. This too."
The black mage packed the artifact in a fancy pouch.
"Cold hands and feet, and insomnia too?"
"Nah, for another kid. She gets nightmares a lot."
I pictured her with deep pity.
A woman torturing herself under religion's yoke.
"Hurts my heart every time I see it. Hope she sleeps happily someday—that's why."
"You're kind."
The warden-black mage chat streamed live via orb.
Anje bit her red lips lightly.
"He always watches me sleep...?"
Tension eased; she slumped back onto the sofa.
"When...? Never sensed him in my cell."
Arms crossed solo, forcing a haughty face.
This time, sofa-flopped Myoran pitied her.
"......"
But one showed no expression change.
Clea, staring at them both blankly.
"Lucky you all. Gifts incoming—now behave, no more trouble."
"Mad 'cause no gift for you?"
"Yeah."
Warden personally shopping gifts, yet she acted indifferent.
Just tugged her dress shirt sleeve to hide her wrist.
"Warden, enough spying."
Truth was, Clea already had a call-watch: infuse mana in danger.
Design meant for wedding rings.
As the three pointed fingers and teased...
Nameless Market's checkout was in full swing.
"Total 7200 gold. Coins?"
"Coins it is. One sec."
I pulled fancy platinum coins from my uniform's inner pocket.
'Huh. Short 200 gold.'
"Hey. I'll be a regular, so tab the 200 for next time?"
Money talk; the tense black mage's jaw dropped.
"Pardon?"
"Got exactly 7000 now. I'm civil servant—no issues."
"Can't do that. We move markets often; no tabs..."
"Swap contacts then."
She scratched her cheek awkwardly.
"How about this: I'll hold two hours. Goods aside, fetch the cash?"
Home from Nameless Market: four-hour carriage ride.
How to...
I scanned around with a troubled look.
For any money source.
That streamed straight to the orb.
Hearing him broke, saintess and Sword Sage bolted up together.
"Shoot, send money?"
"Who do I have enslaved there?"
But soon realized they weren't needed.
Beyond unneeded—utterly dumbfounded.
The man in the orb spotted an unexpected figure.
"C-Commander Conan...?"
"Why's that wench there?"
Sleeveless tee woman and True Ancestor Franca watching from afar.
Warden met their eyes, grinned like genius struck.
Then dropped the bomb.
"Honey!!"
Short, explosive two syllables.
Anje and Myoran froze white.
"Why so late? Daughter with you?"
I hurried to Conan and Franca.
Casually hoisted the 200-year-old vampire queen onto my shoulder.
"......?"
"......?"
Picture-perfect newlyweds reflected in the sleek orb.
That instant.
Boom―――!!
Sword Sage's fist shattered the orb.
A steel-tough artifact.
"What was that? Did I mishear?"
"Why'd that妖 wench pop up there."
The duo—disaster's culprits—glared murderously.