Money. I wanted money.
I am a man who values frugality. All I need is the bare minimum for food, clothing, and shelter.
I hardly ever spend money day to day, and on the rare occasion I do, it's just to grab a sweet treat at a café. I'm not asking for luxuries. Just lend me some money.
Those were the first words out of my mouth, and Ark responded with a beaming smile.
"I don't know the details, but there's no way I'm lending you any."
Borrowing and lending money within a Hunter party — no, within any human relationship at all — is one of the most common causes of conflict.
Even among members of the same party, there were countless stories of financial disputes leading to party dissolutions. Hunters made money, but they spent just as fast.
Ark wasn't on the level of the Mourning Specter, but he should have been earning plenty. His family was prestigious, and within our Clan, he might very well have had the deepest pockets of anyone.
How could I convince him? I needed to scrape together the money fast and get into negotiations before some other Hunter snatched it up. I'd absolutely pay it back later!
Ark shrugged. It was the same gesture I made, but when a strikingly handsome man like him did it, it looked incredibly refined.
"You've found some new Treasure Weapon, haven't you? Come to think of it, the auction season is almost here."
He'd seen right through me. For the record, this wasn't even the first time I'd hit Ark up for cash.
Our relationship was perfectly fine — it was just that he was that kind of person. Principled about money.
"No, no, no, no — this one's different. It's a dangerous Treasure Weapon. I absolutely have to get my hands on it."
"How is that any different? ……Incidentally, how much are you looking to borrow?"
It would come down to negotiating with other Hunters. Treasure Weapons had unpredictable price tags. There was no telling how much I'd need.
I answered with a serious expression.
"As much as you've got."
"……What's the purpose and effect of this so-called Treasure Weapon?"
By changing my face, I'd gain my freedom. I'd be able to go to the sweets shop alone.
With every ounce of my sincerity, I answered.
"I can't tell you that."
Obviously it was illegal, and I couldn't say. ……Was I stuck?
"Ugh …… I know you're secretive, but that makes this impossible to discuss."
Well, it was a perfectly reasonable response. I gave up on Ark and turned my gaze toward the other party members leaning against the wall nearby.
Ark's party, the Holy Spirit's Children, was an Explorer's Guild-certified Level 7 party.
Party Level certifications and individual Hunter Level certifications had different criteria. Usually they took the average of the member Hunters' levels, but the fact that his party had received a Level 7 certification despite every member besides Ark being Level 6 or below spoke volumes about how outstanding those members were.
But what truly set his party apart from others — what made them truly one of a kind — was that every single member was female.
And to top it off, they were all stunning. That was why the Holy Spirit's Children was simultaneously known for their excellence and mocked as a "harem party."
The one standing farthest back — the party's Priest, Yū — shrank into herself and made a frightened gesture.
"Th-they won't lend you any!"
The other members — the Mage, Isabella, and the Swordswoman, Armer — had no intention of lending me money either, and they glared at me with sharp eyes.
"If you're a Level 8 Hunter, stop mooching off Ark and learn to fundraise properly yourself!"
"Oh dear …… preying on your rival — you really are a spineless man. I can't fathom why that party follows someone like you."
They all had different occupations — Priest, Mage, Swordswoman — and their personalities were just as varied: timid, prickly, and martial. What a headache.
I harbored no sense of rivalry toward them whatsoever, but they seemed to feel a fierce competitive streak against our Mourning Specter, and the pushback was always intense.
Maybe Ark was the most approachable because it took a certain caliber of person to lead a harem.
It was Isabella — the most articulate of the bunch — who closed the distance on me.
She was a girl with features just as refined as Ark's. Light-purple hair and eyes, and skin as white as snow — hallmarks of northern heritage. All wasted, though, because of the intimidation she radiated.
She was also a pitiful girl who kept trying to pick fights with Lucia and getting completely ignored.
"S-somehow, even for a child, to say something so cutting to Lady Eclair — what if the Gradius family made you their enemy!?"
"Cutting ……? I just stated the facts ……"
I had no idea what she was talking about. How did my supposed lack of etiquette lead to sarcasm?
"A-ahh …… maybe you don't care since you're from a different Clan, but right now we're part of the same Clan too! If you tarnish the Rodan name, what are you going to do about it!?"
As always, she was fiercely confrontational. She was supposed to be younger than me, but she had a whole different axis of troublesome compared to Ritz and the others.
Unfortunately, no amount of verbal abuse did any damage to me. That was because I understood my own incompetence better than anyone. I was well used to being berated.
And as for "what are you going to do about it" — I didn't know. If I knew, I wouldn't be in this mess. The Rodan name wasn't going to get tarnished that easily, I'd think ……
"You insolent wretch! To make such baseless accusations to a Master — nyaah! Mmph! Mmph!"
Tino darted between me and Isabella, and I clamped a hand over her mouth before she could bite me.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I hate to do this, but I need to go borrow money from someone else, so we're done here?"
I bowed. Deflected. I was an expert at mouth-plugging. I was hopelessly weak against enemies but fiercely protective of allies. This was what you'd call a "fierce on the inside, mild on the outside" type.
Ark's party members were all strong personalities, but they weren't indiscriminate about it like my own companions.
Isabella was completely thrown by how quickly I'd shut Tino's mouth.
Tino protested at me with tears in her eyes, mouthing "mmph mmph." Yeah, yeah, I know.
"Well then, Ark! See you later!"
Time was short. I gave a brief farewell, and Ark waved with that same unreadable smile he always wore.
Before crawling to Citry, I figured I'd check whether any of the other party members in the lounge might be willing to lend me some money.
§ § § Word spread fast that the "Thousand Transformations" was desperately scrambling for money.
The exchange had taken place at the Clan House entrance. Plenty of Clan members were around, and there were outsiders too. The two most prominent figures of the Clan talking together was bound to draw attention.
It was an open secret that the Thousand Transformations had amassed a massive collection of Treasure Weapons. Normally Hunters kept their methods close to the chest, but Thousand Transformations' collecting habits had long since exceeded the realm of secrecy.
Almost no one had actually laid eyes on the collection, but supposedly it contained rare items, expensive items, and even cursed artifacts too dangerous for ordinary Hunters to handle. There were even rumors that the Treasure Weapons wielded by the members of the Mourning Specter were inferior copies given out from that collection.
For a Hunter, debt was something to be avoided. Borrowing from another party in particular risked damaging the one thing a Hunter valued most — trust.
A Level 8 Hunter and Treasure Weapon collector was willing to go into debt for this particular Treasure Weapon.
What kind of power did it hold? Its effects were unknown — but it was apparently a seriously dangerous one.
It was undoubtedly a rare Treasure Weapon that almost never appeared. There was even a chance it could serve as a "trump card" for a Level 8 Hunter.
Rumors bred more rumors. The upcoming Zebridia Auction, already a hot topic, had drawn the attention of merchants, Hunters, and nobles throughout the Imperial Capital.
A powerful Treasure Weapon was something everyone desired with open hands. Treasure Hunters wanted it for their hunts. Nobles wanted it to bolster their prestige. Merchants wanted it as a trump card in their trade.
What kind of power did this Treasure Weapon possess?
Those without money speculated and dreamed of its power, while those with money were determined to obtain it at any cost.
The merchants thought: the opposition was a Level 8, but he was still just a Hunter. There had to be a limit to what funds he could raise.
The Hunters thought: with that Treasure Weapon, perhaps they could dramatically raise their own certified Level.
The nobles thought: with that Treasure Weapon, wouldn't it be a massive status upgrade? Wouldn't they be able to dramatically bolster their available fighting force?
In the end, it was just a rumor. But it was a rumor a little too tantalizing to dismiss as mere gossip.
§ "Arnold — word is a dangerous Treasure Weapon is going to be up for auction."
In a corner of the tavern, Ei's single eye gleamed with excitement as he spoke to Arnold.
The tavern was packed with Hunters, thick with the smell of alcohol and heat. The "Thunder Dragon of the Mist," come all the way from abroad, had blended right into the crowd.
Their exploration had gone smoothly. Arnold may have been certified out in the countryside, but he was Level 7 — placing him in the upper tier even among the sea of Hunters flooding the Imperial Capital.
After the rocky start at the first tavern, they hadn't encountered any Hunter who could rival Arnold's group.
Arnold slammed his empty ale mug onto the table.
"Oh ……? What kind of item?"
"That's just it — apparently something so dangerous that a Level 8 Hunter is running around borrowing money from everyone in sight."
"Level 8, huh ……"
"Sorry! S-sorry!"
Ei rushed to apologize as Arnold scratched the side of his head.
The wounds from that tavern incident had already healed. No pain remained. But ever since that day, Arnold had developed a habit of scratching his head.
His body had recovered. His soul, however, had not forgotten the humiliation.
Arnold said nothing in response to the apology, and let out a heavy click of his tongue.
The Thunder Dragon of the Mist had no financial margin to speak of.
The currency in the Mist Country and the Empire was different. For the long journey from Nebulnes, Arnold and his group had converted most of their funds into goods. There was no way they could afford a Treasure Weapon that even a high-level Hunter was going into debt to obtain.
Well — even if they had the money, paying a fortune for some mysterious artifact just because other high-level Hunters wanted it was out of the question.
Ei, who managed the party's finances, surely felt the same way.
"Tch. Fancy talk. ……Speaking of which, Ei — what about that Treasure Weapon I had appraised?"
"Yes, sir. Apparently there's a backlog at the auction house, so it'll take a bit longer."
"……I see."
Arnold recalled the unsettling Treasure Weapon they'd found in the Treasure Hall near Nebulnes and grimaced.
It was a grotesque mask that looked like it had been sculpted from raw meat.
Its texture was identical to real flesh — enough to send a chill even through seasoned Hunters like Arnold who were well acquainted with the feel of blood and flesh. A terrifying weapon he'd regretted bringing home.
The appraiser in Nebulnes had refused to examine it.
It probably wasn't worth much. Judging by its appearance, there was even a chance it imposed a disadvantage on its user.
He'd planned to have it appraised, and if it turned out worthless, have them dispose of it.
"At least let me get enough to cover the bar tab," Ei muttered, his voice heavy with genuine feeling. Arnold answered with a groan of agreement.