Despite the na, the black market wasn’t selling anything so outlandish it would boggle the mind.
The main attractions were, of course, things like stolen goods and narcotics that were clearly illegal, but surprisingly, there were also items that were perfectly respectable.
“Wow... is this really the black market?” Lancelot turned his head this way and that, asking the question, though it was more of a mutter to himself than an actual inquiry.
I nodded amiably and replied, “That’s right.”
“I thought they’d be selling slaves or sothing, but it’s actually pretty clean, isn’t it?”
“…What exactly do you think a black market is, sir knight?” I shot an incredulous look at Lancelot.
Illegal slave trading was an act the Emperor had declared the worst of all cris.
No matter how much of a black market this was, with the Emperor keeping a watchful eye, selling slaves illegally was the sort of thing that would get not just your family, but your entire estate, wiped off the map.
And no one would complain about it, either.
“In the first place, slave trading is only permitted for those with the Emperor’s approval. That ans traitorous bloodlines or serious criminals. It’s common sense—do try to rember it.”
“...I know that. I just thought, you know, since it’s the black market, you never know.”
Lancelot stuck out his lower lip in a pout.
Lately, he’d been trying to act cute at every opportunity. Even this morning. It was becoming a bit of a habit.
...I really want to hit him just once.
Whack.
“Agh! Why’d you hit ?!”
Ah. It seed my hand had acted on its own and smacked the back of his head before I’d consciously decided to do it.
“Mmm... I suppose I made the mistake of turning a thought into action.”
“Why are you even thinking about that?!”
“Quiet. Shouting in a black market is like advertising for soone to pick your pocket. You might as well hand out flyers.” I brushed off my hand, muttering as I did so.
Just then…
“Ha! I’ll have you know, I’m an Aura Adept. No one would dare lay a hand on my—huh?”
A kid bumped into Lancelot and slipped past.
Lancelot, caught mid-mumble, suddenly realized his wallet was gone.
He stared blankly.
“...My wallet.”
“You were just robbed.”
“...Did you see it?”
“Well, the kid did it so brazenly, I thought I’d just watch. Remarkable little hands, that one.”
“And you just stood there? WHYYYY!”
He’s the one who lost it, and yet he’s the one throwing a fit.
I sighed, watching Lancelot hopping mad, then turned to the coachman, saying, “Just give it back.”
“Yes, sir.” The coachman pulled a wallet from his pocket and handed it to Lancelot.
A humble leather pouch, looking exactly like Lancelot’s wallet—right down to the faint suggestion it might sll a bit odd.
“Eh?! My wallet!” Lancelot stared in confusion, glancing between the coachman and the wallet.
Then, narrowing his eyes, he fixed the coachman with a look that practically shouted, “Are you the thief?”
The coachman waved his hands frantically. “N-no, sir! It wasn’t !”
“What wasn’t you?”
“Oh, milord, please!” The coachman looked at , silently begging for help.
I caught Lancelot by the shoulder before he could charge in and spoke. “He didn’t do it, so calm down.”
“Then why does he have my wallet?!”
“Why? Because after your wallet was stolen, he stole it back from the pickpocket.”
The pickpocket had picked Lancelot’s pocket, and the coachman had, in turn, picked the pickpocket’s pocket. That was the whole story, and why the coachman was now holding Lancelot’s wallet.
“...What?” Lancelot blinked, his face returning to its default setting of “thoroughly baffled.”
But this ti, I didn’t wait for his brain to catch up.
I set off at a brisk pace, saying, “Keep up. We’ve got a lot of stops to make, and no ti to stand around like this.”
“Uh? J-just a mont, wait! Don’t leave behiiiind!”
* * *
The place Lancelot hurried after to was the entrance to the auction house, known as the crown jewel of the black market.
“I’ve only ever seen places like this in books,” Lancelot said.
“You? Reading books? Now that’s a tall tale.”
“I did read when I was a kid, you know!”
I snorted.
Giving Lancelot a break from my teasing, I stepped into the auction house.
The atmosphere here was rather different from a regular auction house.
Everyone wore masks and their eyes sparkled with greed.
The coachman was shivering with fright, making it clear he’d never been here before. “S-sir, there are so many people here.”
“Don’t worry. They’re all just people, sa as us.”
“Well, yes, but still…” The coachman trailed off mid-sentence, glancing nervously around. He’d bragged loudly about being from these parts, but it seed a pickpocket was still just a pickpocket after all.
I gave his shoulder a couple of reassuring pats and said, “If you get tense, you’ll only draw more attention. Relax, and no one will look twice at you.”
“Y-yes, sir!” He answered, still tense.
Leaving the coachman to his nerves, I made my way toward the stalls set up around the auction house.
A woman in a mask spotted us and imdiately began calling out. “Oh my! Co right this way!”
Her rchandise was masks.
There were toad masks, half-masks that only covered part of your face, ogre masks—every kind of bizarre and outlandish mask you could imagine.
The others who’d followed stared at the masks, swallowing hard.
“Wow… That’s a bit much,” Lancelot comnted.
“I think this one would look good on you, bro,” Kai said.
“You wanna die?”
“…My daughter would’ve loved a mask like this.”
Despite my clear instructions to blend in, my companions were gawking and chatting like country bumpkins at their first city fair, making it painfully obvious they were new to the black market.
The woman, not missing a beat, seized the opportunity and began explaining her wares. “You all have such unique fashion sense! Now, this one’s been very popular lately, and with this—”
“Enough. Five plain masks, please.”
Did she really think we were that gullible?
I cut her off and ordered five masks without any patterns.
The whole point of wearing a mask in the black market was to avoid being recognized. If you wore one with a picture on it, you might as well announce to the world, “Guess who bought this?”
That woman’s probably here to sell information.
Everyone else might have their faces hidden behind masks, but she, at least, knew exactly who I was. No wonder she was so eager to hawk those garish masks—she wanted to make sure she could recognize her custors later.
I pressed fifteen copper coins into her hand and said, “If you’re going to run a scam, at least pick your targets wisely. Being blind won’t spare you from the wrath of nobility.”
I gave her shoulder a couple of brisk pats, scooped up five plain white masks, and walked off.
Beside , Lancelot grumbled about how there must have been prettier options, but I resolved to ignore fools today and stuck to it with the determination of a saint.
Before long…
“It’s surprisingly spacious,” Kai murmured, glancing around the auction hall.
Just as he said, the inside of the auction house was laid out like a circus, with seats arranged so the audience could look down on the stage.
“That’s true,” I replied, nodding as I headed for the seats.
It was then that I caught sight of a familiar little brat in the distance.
…Martin Artezia?
What was the notorious troublemaker of Artezia doing here?
I looked at Martin Artezia, eyebrows raised in puzzlent.
He was surrounded by attendants, and among them, one man in particular stood out.
“Looks like the owner of the casino is here too.”
“Huh? Where?” Lancelot craned his neck, searching the crowd.
Then, apparently spotting Makio, he clicked his tongue and started muttering.
“Well, would you look at that… I guess that’s why people say all rich folks are trash. The owner of a casino, skulking around the black market. Isn’t this place supposed to be for scum?”
Lancelot nodded along with his own logic, agreeing with himself as if he’d just delivered a profound insight.
I stared at him in utter disbelief.
…Does he even realize where he is right now?
He was busy calling the black market a den of trash, all while standing right in the middle of it himself.
I let out a quiet sigh and shook my head. Then I made my way to one of the empty seats and sat down.
It’ll be starting soon.
I crossed my legs and looked down at the auction stage.
It was almost ti for the auction to begin.
* * *
anwhile, Martin Artezia was glaring at Makio.
“You’re telling you’re short on cash?!” he spat.
“...I apologize.” Makio bowed his head as he answered. But his hands were clenched tight, and a faint murderous glint flickered in his eyes.
...Damn brat.
Makio cursed Martin inwardly.
He’d ant to co here alone, but for so reason, this troublemaker had insisted on tagging along. Refusing was out of the question, but persuading this brat was impossible from the start.
In the end, Makio had no choice but to bring him along, grinding his teeth all the while—and he truly ground his teeth hard.
Fine, he could bring him. Maybe Martin was finally getting bored of chasing won around the Casino.
But if so, couldn’t he at least keep quiet?
Instead, he’d been making a scene from the start—demanding won, ordering drinks, causing a ruckus. Makio wanted nothing more than to wring his neck right then and there.
And now, Martin was even asking him to buy one of the auction house managers as a slave. It was enough to drive anyone mad.
If the Emperor finds out, I’m the one who’s dead...!
Martin, that brat, was the legitimate heir of Duke Artezia’s House. There was no way he’d be punished—at most, he’d get a warning and be let go.
But Makio wouldn’t be so lucky. No matter how much money he had, it wouldn’t work on the Emperor. Besides, every woman he’d sent slave docunts for had been an actual slave.
If the Emperor caught him over a slave issue, his entire family line would be wiped out.
Makio forced a smile, trying to calm his throbbing head. "Let’s just buy what we agreed on today and head back. I’ll find a way to scrape together so cash by tomorrow, so we can talk again then."
"Tsk! How does a man who runs a casino end up broke?"
"...My apologies." Makio forced a smile, doing his best to hide his trembling fists.
If he wanted to shake off this brat, he absolutely had to buy that item today.
Besides, I really am short on cash.
That lunatic who’d stord into the casino, the youngest son of Berg County, had shown up and swept away all the money
Thanks to that, the money he’d set aside for this auction was now hanging by a thread.
These bloody youngest sons are trouble wherever you find them.
Makio clicked his tongue quietly and swallowed his curses.
Just then—
Bang!
With a crash and a flourish of grand music, the lights in the auction hall went out.
But only for a mont. Soon, a single spotlight snapped on, illuminating the center of the stage.
And in that circle of light, a man appeared and greeted the audience.
"Now, thank you for waiting. I am Login, your auctioneer for this evening."
The man wore a fedora, leaning on a cane.
He explained how the auction would proceed, and made it clear that the origins of the goods were a secret he couldn’t be sharing with anyone.
And finally…
"Then, let the auction begin!"
The auction had begun.
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