In the Imperial Capital Zebuldia, a large-scale auction was held once a year under government leadership.
It was a major event in the capital. Simply called the Zebuldia Auction after the country's name, it spanned an entire week and featured a wide variety of rare goods, luxury items, and artwork brought in from both domestic and international sources.
During the auction period, the capital buzzed with merchants, hunters, and tourists from outside—it truly became a festival-like spectacle. It was the kind of event that was entertaining just to watch.
And the Zebuldia Auction had one thing that set it apart from other auctions: Treasure Weapons made up the bulk of the items on offer.
The sums of money changing hands were enormous. Perhaps it was the festival-like atmosphere, but it wasn't uncommon for items to sell for more than their actual worth.
The Imperial Capital had always been a holy ground for hunters. The circulation of Treasure Weapons far exceeded that of other nations, and the number of hunters seeking them was correspondingly large.
On top of that demand, some Treasure Hunters based in the capital had been holding onto Treasure Weapons they'd obtained specifically for this occasion, and all of them would be released at once—turning the auction into a sea of Treasure Weapons.
But even though it was called an auction, nobody would buy a Treasure Weapon whose abilities were unknown.
During this period, appraisers living in the capital would be swamped from every direction with Treasure Weapons brought in for evaluation. The appraisal results were guaranteed by the appraiser's name, but Treasure Weapons had a remarkably high rate of misidentification. Since the appraiser's name also factored into bidding decisions, it was easy to see why this brusque but skilled old man was in such demand.
The door inside the counter. Beyond it lay Marchis's workspace.
Stacked wooden crates and a large metal workbench. Strange appraisal tools lined the walls, giving the space a chaotic impression compared to the orderly shop front.
The narrow area, dimly lit, had a certain charm that drew out a wistful sigh. As a cautious person, I absolutely loved cramped spaces like this.
Tinno followed me in, hesitantly. On the workbench sat a golden dagger—he must have been in the middle of appraising it.
This wasn't my first time visiting Marchis's workspace.
The first time he let me in, it was so cluttered there was nowhere to step, but at some point it had become organized enough to walk through without tripping. That probably wasn't for my sake, though—more likely for Tinno's.
Marchis turned to look at me creeping in from behind and snorted.
"...You see it, now scram. I'm not free, you know."
"I brought Tinno along. You don't care what happens to Tinno?"
"Y-you brat, how long are you planning to camp out?!"
Marchis's workspace—his workshop—was an endlessly fascinating place for me.
The truth was, most of the Treasure Weapons found in the Treasure Hall were completely impractical.
Unlike something like the Dark Wings of the Night, which merely had a flaw, the rest were outright ridiculous: a bracelet that numbed your sense of taste, an earring that made you unable to distinguish sounds, boots that made you skip with every step—countless nonsensical tools.
We Treasure Hunters respectfully called these "Junk Artifacts." And naturally, they almost never appeared on store shelves.
Marchis's workshop, where mountains of such junk accumulated, was like a treasure box to me.
Digging through the mountain of joke items to find the very few that were actually usable was excellent pastime (though, needless to say, finding something usable was extremely rare). But this time Marchis was busy too, so there probably wouldn't be time for that.
"Here—this is the list of items we've received commissions for. Read it and get out."
Marchis offered Tinno a chair, then roughly shoved a file clipped together into my hands. The difference in how he treated me versus Tinno was absurd.
But there was no point complaining, so I started checking the list while standing.
There were plenty of other appraisers in the capital besides Marchis. I'd need to visit them later too.
"Hmm... I don't have money, though..."
The list contained the items' provisional names and characteristics. The names of those who had requested the appraisals weren't listed—probably because of personal information.
Treasure Weapons at the auction often sold for above market value. Since genuinely useful Treasure Weapons were scarce and hard to obtain even with money, the auction was still a huge opportunity. But after Eva had laid down the law about my debts, participating might be difficult.
Would a prostration earn me forgiveness?
"Hey, kiddo, how've you been? Hunting going well?"
"Y-yes, quite well."
"That's good to hear. Being a Treasure Hunter is dangerous work. When you've been doing business with hunters for as many years as I have, you feel that in your bones. Make sure you take care of your health."
"Your appraisals aren't even close to done. Old man, don't you have the actual items?"
Knowing only characteristics and a provisional name was useless. While there were some items whose identity I could guess, none of them caught my fancy. At least include a photo or something.
"Shut up! They're in that box over there—go look yourself! And don't mess anything up!"
Maybe he was under stress. He hurled insults at me, but I'm a magnanimous person, so I paid it no mind and opened the indicated box to check inside.
It was a shame—the mana hadn't been charged yet, so I couldn't see the Treasure Weapons in their full condition.
I sat on the floor and began pulling out unappraised Treasure Weapons one by one, comparing them against the list. It was an exhilarating moment.
The most common were the popular accessory type, but there were also items with potential—like bag-shaped ones—and rare forms that were seldom seen, such as gloves. This year's auction looked promising. If only I had the money to participate.
"Has The Peerless Shadow been giving you grief? Has Klye been piling unreasonable demands on you? These kids and their Parties—they don't know the meaning of restraint."
"U-uh, I'm fine. He's been very good to me."
"If anything happens, make sure you lean on your companions. Some of them have messed-up personalities, but Beginning Footprint is a big guild. You won't lack people to turn to for help. ...Klye is also, well, depending on the situation, useful. He's the hunter who's leveled up the most over the past few years, for better or worse."
"Y-yes."
Marchis's voice carried genuine concern as he spoke with Tinno. And remarkably, Tinno—who was usually cold toward outsiders—looked shaken. Just what was this old man's standing, exactly?
And what did "depending on the situation" mean? When would I ever be useful? The only times I could think of were when Tinno was being accosted by Liliz or Citry.
Tinno spoke as though convincing himself.
"I understand. My Master is a wonderful person. He has a lot of debts, but he's still a wonderful person. Compared to my Master, I'm nothing but trash—"
"!? Hey, Klye! What kind of teaching have you been giving this girl?!"
Just as Marchis's hand landed on my shoulder, about to rain down some unjustified slander, a Treasure Weapon caught my eye.
It was a mask with a peculiar texture.
A flat surface with holes only where the eyes and mouth would be.
The texture was close to raw meat. When I touched it with my fingertip, it was soft and moist, and lifting it revealed an unpleasant weight. It was cold to the touch, but once mana was charged and it activated, it would likely warm to near-human temperature.
My hand trembled as I lifted it.
A flesh mask. I knew of a Treasure Weapon that looked remarkably similar.
The shape and size were slightly different, but there couldn't be many Treasure Weapons this grotesque.
The Changing Human Face.
The Treasure Weapon that had a terrible reputation among my party members and had supposedly been destroyed by Liliz—it was right there.
"?? Hey, Klye. What's wrong?"
Marchis peered at what was in my hand and grimaced.
—I want it. I want it so badly.
The Changing Human Face was a Treasure Weapon that let the wearer freely alter their appearance.
Not just facial features, but down to individual hairs—everything could be changed at will. Once mastered, it could alter not just the face but the entire body. It was an expandable, contractible flesh mask.
With this, I'd be free from hunters trying to hunt high-level hunters to make a name for themselves, and from criminals—I could walk around with my head held high. Whether handsome man or beautiful woman, I'd be free to become anyone.
I'd encountered one before by pure chance. When it was destroyed, I'd thought I'd never get my hands on one again.
Even if one appeared in the Treasure Hall, almost nobody would want to bring home a Treasure Weapon this grotesque. And virtually no one would be willing to actually put it on.
"...It was brought in from outside. Still unappraised, but it's nothing good."
Marchis said with a severe expression. Tinno glanced at the mask and her expression flickered for just an instant.
—I want it. I want it so badly.
He was right—it wasn't a good item. A Treasure Weapon that could change not just your face but your body and even your fingerprints was effective for criminal use if you knew how to wield it.
It was an item whose use was prohibited under Zebuldia's laws, but merely possessing it wasn't illegal. As long as no one saw you using it, it wasn't against the law.
How much would it cost? How much would I need? I'd obtained the previous one when the Mourning Specter had destroyed a large bandit group—it had been among the spoils.
Since I hadn't purchased it, I couldn't predict the price, but considering its rarity and capabilities... ten million Gill would be a conservative estimate.
—I want it. I want it so badly. If I didn't get it now, I'd never get another chance.
My mind raced.
How much? How much did I need to raise? A prostration to Eva, a prostration to Citry, and while I was at it, a prostration to Liliz.
Was I ready? I was. Please, marry me.
The appraisal of the Treasure Weapon Tinno had found had completely blown out of my mind.
I'd even trade my entire collection of prized Treasure Weapons for it. That was how valuable the Changing Human Face was.
I looked up at Marchis. The old man, who never let his stern demeanor slip around me, was sweating and took a step back.
The first thing to do was negotiate before it went to auction.
Once it hit the auction floor, I'd be locked in a price war with countless other hunters and nobles. If it came to that, whether I could get it would be left to chance, and the cost would likely skyrocket.
I needed to negotiate before it was put up for sale. It wasn't exactly admirable, but it was a common tactic at auctions.
I had status. Not something I'd earned myself, but I had trust. This was no time to be choosy about methods. I absolutely had to obtain it.
I took a slow, deep breath to calm my racing heart and asked Marchis.
"I absolutely want this Treasure Weapon. I'd like to negotiate with the hunter who commissioned the appraisal on this item. Could you put me in contact?"
"!? H-hey, are you out of your mind?! It's still unappraised?!"
I was of sound mind. It was indeed a grotesque Treasure Weapon. The moment of activation would be unpleasant too—the sensation of raw meat plastered to your face spreading across your entire body was something only those who had experienced it could understand.
But I wanted it. The cheaper, the better. With this, I could visit every sweet shop in town alone, without a bodyguard.
"...Tch. You're serious, aren't you, you Treasure Weapon freak. Much for business, then. ...Fine, I got it. I'll pass the word to the client. Kiddo, don't end up like this, okay?"
Marchis clicked his tongue with an annoyed expression. He always had a sharp tongue, but he was a reliable old man through and through.