Ficool

Chapter 29 - Chapter 29

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Translator: Vine

Chapter: 29

Chapter Title: Uninvited Guest

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"So, you're sayin' they're bandits?"

"Yep."

"And these two are Awakened Ones, I take it?"

"That's right. The lizardman is a [Brawler], and the goblin is a [Petty Thief]. They called themselves the Dragon Bandits."

"The Dragon Bandits, is it? Right. I've heard the name, indeed I have."

Kettlik nodded.

He rubbed his palms together as he looked at the twenty bandits Dion and Arsha had brought in, tied up securely with the help of a few slaves.

"Kikiki! Well, you've come to the right place. When it comes to criminal slaves, I'm the expert, yessiree!"

"I know. So be an expert and give me a good price."

"Of course, I'll give you the best price. But… what kind of figure were you lookin' for…?"

"I haven't really looked into it."

"Is that so!"

"Yep. I trust that you, my dear swindler, are different from those other damn slave traders who rip off their customers."

"...O-Of course. Naturally. I, Kettlik, am a very conscientious businessman, indeed I am."

In the end, Kettlik had no choice but to buy the Dragon Bandits for more than double the usual price, leaving him feeling quite dejected.

But that feeling was short-lived.

As soon as Dion and Parsha left with a hefty pouch of magic stones, Kettlik started grinning again.

'Still, gettin' two Awakened slaves at this price is a long-term gain, yes it is.'

Awakened Ones rarely fell into slavery to begin with, and criminal slaves that could be worked to the bone were priceless.

Besides, the other bandits were healthy and would be easy to sell.

Of course, criminal slaves were often disobedient, but that was a matter of training.

It might be a loss for now, but if he trained them well and sold them at a high price, he could make a handsome profit.

'But those slaves that crazy young master brought with him… they looked like the ones I sold him, they did.'

He'd only sold Dion useless trash that couldn't be used anywhere.

The slaves he saw today were so full of vigor that Kettlik wondered if they were the same ones, but he soon dismissed the thought.

'Well, once a slave is sold, it's not my business anymore, is it.'

Satisfied that he'd managed to profit, however slightly, from his deal with Dion, Kettlik smiled contentedly.

…Yes, back then, Kettlik could still afford to smile.

But…

The next day.

"Hello, Mr. Swindler."

"Welcome! What brings you here today? Did you forget something?"

"What do you mean? I've got more slaves to sell."

"...You've got more slaves, you say?"

"Yep. This time, they're the Scar Bandits. There are three Awakened Ones, so give me as good a price as last time."

"Ah, well. That shouldn't be a problem, no."

Criminal slaves, 33 more.

The third day.

"Don't tell me you're here again today…?"

"You really are a swindler. You catch on quick!"

"W-Well, you know how it is with goods. Bulk discounts and all that. You usually get a better price if you buy a lot at once, see."

"But you're saying you'll buy my products at full price, without any haggling, right? Since we're friends."

"No, that's…"

"That's?"

"...O-Of course, I must."

Criminal slaves, 40 more.

The afternoon of the third day.

"You just left! Why are you back already?!"

"Some more came while we were out for a bit, so the kids caught them. I came to sell them while they're still fresh."

"Do you think slaves are vegetables, sir? You can just toss criminal slaves in the basement and starve them for a few days!"

"Hey, that would lower the price."

"The, the price…"

"So, with that in mind, I'll take full price again."

"…"

Criminal slaves, 9 more added.

One week later.

"...How many this time?"

"Sorry. Unfortunately, there are no Awakened Ones this time. No proper bandit groups showed up."

"Is that so?!"

"Yep. Instead, about a hundred stragglers from all over the place came knocking."

"…"

"What are you doing? Hurry up and pay me."

"Uh, Young Master? I'm ashamed to say this, but my wallet's been a bit light lately. I don't think I can afford to buy these slaves at full price."

"Really? That's a problem."

"Indeed it is! So if you don't mind, perhaps another slave trader…!"

"Can't be helped. I'll let you pay in installments."

"…"

"Since we're friends, I'll give you a special deal. Only 1% compound interest. So don't worry and take them."

Criminal slaves, 100 more.

And so, in just one week, the number of criminal slaves packed into his holding cells and the installment debt grew in inverse proportion to his now-empty vault.

Above all, after calculating the effort, time, and cost required to train hundreds of criminal slaves…

Kettlik muttered with a dazed expression, like a victim who'd been scammed into bankruptcy after buying what he thought was a special discount product.

"…Maybe I should sell one of my organs?"

***

"Are you perhaps… doing this on purpose?"

"Doing what?"

"Selling the bandits exclusively to that slave trader."

"Yes, I am."

"...Is there truly a need to incur a loss for this?"

"There is."

No matter how high a price he got from Kettlik, selling on credit and in installments was a net loss.

Dion calmly explained why he didn't sell to any other traders.

"It would be even better if the swindler can't pay me back."

"Better, you say…?"

"A slave who used to be a slave trader… just imagine how much I could work him for. Aren't you excited?"

"…"

"Well, I'm about 10% joking."

Which meant he was 90% serious.

As Arsha, unable to ask the question out loud, wore a complicated expression, Dion continued with a grin.

"What we need right now is a reputation, more than money."

"...For that 'business' you mentioned before, I presume."

"Yep. That way, the ones who have what I need will come to me on their own."

"Even if they are well-informed, how many would be able to discern your intentions, Master?"

"If there are none, then so be it. I have no need for those who can't even figure that much out."

"So it's fine if it works and fine if it doesn't. I can only lament how you've become such an irresponsible piece of trash."

"Don't worry too much. I have plenty of alternatives, even if it doesn't work out."

For better.

Or for worse.

The wicked boy's plan was working perfectly.

The more the goblin slave trader struggled and suffered, trying to sell off the bandits elsewhere to scrape together money…

The more rumors about them naturally spread throughout the City of Deformity.

"The Dragon Bandits, the Tunnelers, and even the Black Silver Bandits were all captured?"

"No way. How many Awakened Ones were in those groups?"

"Even if they were caught off guard, they weren't just some small-fry who'd get taken down so easily without even sacking a minor estate…"

People were buzzing.

Of course, everyone in the City of Deformity already knew of the White-Masked Young Master's fame.

But that was his individual reputation.

Unless a high-ranking Awakened One was a Summoner who commanded familiars… no, even a high-ranking Summoner would have trouble defending an entire estate alone.

Yet, he had captured hundreds of bandits without a single one escaping.

It proved one thing.

—The White-Masked Young Master wasn't just a lucky individual; he possessed a formidable force of his own.

"I knew it. The White-Masked Young Master really is from one of the Hundred Great Families, isn't he?"

"Who could say otherwise? At the very least, he's clearly a high-ranking noble."

"Tsk, tsk. I feel sorry for the fools who fell for those baseless rumors and rushed in."

From that perspective…

It was only natural that the stream of bandits visiting Waryong Manor came to an abrupt halt.

Whether the White-Masked Young Master was a fraud or not, the sacrifices of the pioneers had taught everyone that Waryong Manor was no simple, empty house.

Thus, the bandit raids on Waryong Manor ended as a foolish spectacle fueled by false rumors.

And Waryong Manor returned to its peaceful state.

…Or so everyone thought.

"What?"

"The folks from Waryong Manor are out catching wanted criminals?"

"Did the White-Masked Young Master get a taste for capturing bandits and selling them?"

Nobles and commoners.

Even criminals.

Those who heard the rumor couldn't hide their bewilderment.

Most wanted criminals were just petty offenders who'd killed a few commoners and fled, not even worth the time and manpower to pursue.

There was absolutely no reason for a noble, let alone the lord of another territory, to mobilize private soldiers to catch them.

That's why people were certain it was just a peculiar hobby, or perhaps a demonstration meant as a warning regarding the recent spectacle.

That is, until the list of criminals they had captured became known.

"...The Bloody Murderer? They caught that serial killer?"

"How did they find the Phantom of Silence? He was hiding like a ghost."

"The three half-troll brothers who controlled the 6th floor's underworld… even the city guard avoided them…"

Over a dozen dangerous criminals were either killed or captured at Waryong Manor.

Among them was even a 3-star Awakened One, so it was no surprise that the City of Deformity was in an uproar once again.

Still, everyone already knew the White-Masked Young Master's power was considerable, so that much was understandable.

The problem was that these criminals, who had meticulously hidden their tracks and identities, were caught in just a few days.

It was as if they had known the criminals' identities and locations from the very beginning.

Of course, that was impossible, so it was obviously the result of their own intelligence network or some information-gathering ability. But that was precisely why the nearby nobles were all the more terrified.

A background tied to the Hundred Great Families.

Talent proven by passing the contest.

A force capable of defending an estate.

And now, incredible intelligence-gathering capabilities.

If all that was true, the power of the White-Masked Young Master and Waryong Manor had already surpassed that of a mid-sized estate.

What would happen if the White-Masked Young Master continued to expand his influence, especially if he joined hands with the Lord of Nakrang Fortress through his betrothal to the Calamity Princess?

The nobles, sensitive to shifts in power, had no choice but to be on high alert.

Of course, it was the wanted criminals who were in the biggest panic.

They tensed up, paying close attention to every move made at Waryong Manor.

But naturally…

Not everyone was like that.

Those who were more attuned to the flow of information, especially those who had been keeping an eye on Waryong Manor from the start, had realized it.

This entire situation was the true objective of the little rascal holed up in Waryong Manor.

And…

"Hello!"

"What is your business at Waryong Manor?"

Having been flustered by the Calamity Princess's sudden visit not long ago…

The dark elves guarding the main gate of Waryong Manor now found themselves welcoming another unexpected guest.

There was one difference from before.

Unlike the Calamity Princess, who was instantly recognizable, this uninvited guest was a complete stranger.

"My name is Naru."

"…?"

"I am a messenger from the Guild, here in response to the lord's call."

A lute slung over his back.

Long bangs covering his eyes.

And long, protruding rabbit ears.

Except for his uniquely confident voice, he was an ordinary-looking rabbit-folk boy you could see anywhere.

Naru spoke proudly to the dark elves, who looked even more confused after his introduction.

"Could you please inform the White-Masked Young Master? Tell him I've come with a fine proposal for him."

"...Please wait a moment."

They didn't know who he was, but if he was a guest who had been summoned by their lord, they couldn't just ignore him.

So they inquired.

They asked their lord's personal maid what to do with this guest.

And a short while later…

"What?"

"I don't have an invitation."

"No, that was a figure of speech. My way of saying I understood the Young Master's message."

"A peddler? I told you, I'm a messenger from the Guild!"

"Wait, wait! If you just let me meet the lord, I can explain everything!"

"Please, I'm begging you! Please?"

That day…

The gatekeepers learned something.

Not all uninvited guests are created equal.

…As they stared at the boy clinging to their legs, pleading desperately.

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