Marchis tipped us off that they'd tracked down the owner of the Changing Human Face, and we headed out for the negotiation.
Keeping me company as my guard was Citry, who hadn't so much as flinched at the loan proposal I'd dropped on her before she'd even finished talking.
"I'll be fine. My research will be a little delayed, but if I liquidate some spare materials and stockpiled potions, I should be able to cover a fair amount."
"Huh?"
"There's really no need for you to worry, Klye. I don't want to do it, but if it comes down to it, I'll just borrow from the bank. Alchemists actually have a huge advantage when it comes to securing loans..."
"..."
"My sister will help out too... This really is a Treasure Weapon you need, isn't it? I'll find a way to get it no matter what it takes."
"...Yeah, yeah, that's right..."
"As for us... putting it off is fine. I really don't want to, but putting it off is fine."
Citry clenched her fists with an expression that bordered on heartbreaking resolve. I didn't have the courage to bring up the confectionery shop now.
As it turned out, with impeccable timing, Citry and the others had something they wanted too.
Even I couldn't ask Citry to swallow her own desires for my sake. I tried to withdraw my offer, but it was already too late. Not just today — Citry always had a habit of putting me ahead of herself.
Citry kept going with a cheerful smile on her face.
"Though, first we need to nail down the exact amount... And if it comes to it, we can always deal with the Hunter who owns it. I'm great at negotiations."
That smile was terrifying. There was no day I resented my own poor judgment more than today, seeing the emotions she kept bottled up behind that grin.
But what did she mean by "deal with"...? I'd really prefer we keep things civil.
Liliz had gone off to the Treasure Halls specifically to fund my expenses. Apparently she was planning to chain her way through a series of lower-difficulty Treasure Halls. I'd never heard of "chaining" Treasure Halls before, but I hadn't had a chance to stop her.
I'd racked up quite the debt. Was I a kept man? Was I really a kept man?
But there was still hope.
The negotiation had been set up properly. Depending on how things went, we should be able to avoid forcing Citry into anything.
Direct negotiation was a double-edged sword. There was the advantage of getting the Treasure Weapon you wanted first, but it also gave the other party a chance to see through you.
You'd negotiate a high price and it would fall through, only for the item to sell at auction for far less because nobody else was bidding — that sort of thing happened all the time.
This target Treasure Weapon had an ugly appearance. The kind of thing an ordinary Hunter might not even bother bringing home — the seller would want to get rid of it ASAP.
If things went well, we could get it for dirt cheap.
It would have been easier if we'd known the seller personally, but this Treasure Weapon had come from a distant Treasure Hall, and the person who brought it in was apparently a Hunter from another country, so that hope was slim.
"If the owner's a reasonable person, we won't have to resort to anything violent..."
Every single one of Citry's comments was alarmingly intense.
She was an Alchemist with poor close-combat abilities. The remark was probably a joke, but with Citry, jokes never stayed just jokes.
The sky was cloudless and brilliant, but my heart was full of anxiety.
§ The negotiation was set at a tavern next to the Explorer's Guild's Imperial Capital branch — the Challenger's Academy.
Open twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, the place was always packed with Hunters fresh from Treasure Halls, and was said to be the most famous tavern in the capital. If you wanted fresh gossip about the capital and its surroundings, this was the place to come.
The food and drink weren't great, but they were cheap, and you'd often see broke rookie Hunters gathered here, making merry. The place had plenty of seating and even took reservations, making it perfect for a sit-down discussion.
I'd been here plenty of times myself, but after Liliz and Luke got banned, I'd stopped coming.
I pushed through the crowd of Hunters — drinking in broad daylight despite the hour — and made my way to the meeting table.
I spotted it from a distance. The sight of the Hunters gathered around that table made me freeze in my tracks.
Citry, too, for once had her eyes wide open, pressing a finger to her lips in shock.
"Oh... well, well..."
This was bad.
I clung to a sliver of hope and looked around, but there was no mistake about the meeting table — sitting there were Arnold Hale and his companions, the same ones Liliz had punched at the Golden Chicken Tavern not long ago.
There weren't that many Hunter parties made up of eight people, so I was sure of it.
This time of year, Hunters from outside the capital should have been pouring in by the dozens, so why was my luck so terrible?
Our side only had Citry. Against a level 7 front-liner on the other side, if things turned ugly, there'd be nothing we could do.
Maybe I should just go home...
The thought flickered through my mind for an instant, but Marchis was involved in this negotiation. He'd gone out of his way to set this up despite being busy. Even if he was an old man with a lolicon complex and an obvious soft spot for Tinno, I couldn't just embarrass him like that.
Besides, it was Liliz who had taken the lead — maybe Arnold wouldn't even remember me... He probably wouldn't.
Right, he definitely wouldn't remember. My face was, not to boast, rather plain, and I'd been sitting at the far end of the table. At least, if I were in Arnold's position — I wouldn't even have committed it to memory in the first place.
I was standing there, trying to work up the courage, when Citry walked right up to the table without sparing me a glance.
The nerve, approaching someone she'd just had a conflict with the other day. I still hadn't mentally prepared, but I couldn't let her go alone, so I hurried after her small frame.
A shadow approached, and Arnold looked up. His eyes were as sour as ever.
Please, just forget me. My desperate wish went unheard, and his expression twisted violently.
The lackey next to him spotted me and Citry and shrieked.
"Hey, you bastards—"
"Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with us today, Arnold!"
Without flinching at his expression, Citry struck first with a bright voice.
Her eyes sparkled with genuine delight, not acting.
Come to think of it, Citry had always been into men like Arnold, hadn't she...? Her dazzling smile made the lackey's voice die down in deflation.
Arnold made a show of clicking his tongue and jerked his chin toward the seats across the table.
I sat down, fighting the sharp pain of tension in my stomach.
And so, the negotiation began.
§ § § Arnold Hale didn't know what to make of his unexpected negotiating partner.
This was the person who had beaten him senseless in a tavern on their very first day. But Arnold wasn't foolish enough to immediately lunge at them.
He held back his boiling anger. Most importantly, the woman who had personally struck Arnold wasn't here today. Even if he decked everyone in the room, it wouldn't ease his frustration.
Arnold kept silent, and the other members who had been about to speak up held their tongues too.
They all had their own feelings on the matter, but now was the time to bide their time.
As always, Thousand Transformations was an inscrutable man.
Facing Arnold with a composed expression. His build was slim for a Hunter, with hardly any muscle. Not particularly imposing — a gentle-looking fellow. He carried no weapons, but wore a necklace and earrings, and rings on every finger.
Not a close-combat specialist, then? No matter how much Arnold had researched Thousand Transformations' combat style, nothing came up.
In any case, the man was calmly sitting before a level 7 Hunter he had recently antagonized — he was no ordinary person.
Conversely, the woman who accompanied him was brimming with quiet energy. Her hair color, eye color, and features resembled Peerless Shadow, the one who had beaten Arnold and his crew the other day — but where that one was "motion," this one was "stillness."
Her features were refined, her untanned skin unmarred by a single scar. Every movement was elegant, yet without a single opening.
She was disguised, but upon closer inspection, the energy she concealed was not significantly different from Peerless Shadow's.
Arnold had seen through her disguise because her concealment was inferior to Thousand Transformations'.
A member of Mourning Specter. Definitely one of their stronger fighters.
He licked his lips.
But Arnold held the advantage here.
Someone wanted to negotiate a buyout for the Treasure Weapon he had deposited.
When he'd received that message, he'd thought what an oddball — and to think it was Mourning Specter of all people.
Originally, he'd been content if it fetched the price of a round of drinks. But if someone actually wanted it, that was a different story.
Aside from a few junk pieces, Treasure Weapons that actually served a purpose commanded high prices. In some cases, they traded hands for figures exceeding a hundred million.
After introductions were completed, the woman who had called herself Citry spoke with a smile.
"Klye has a hobby of collecting unusual Treasure Weapons. That's how your Treasure Weapon caught his eye—"
"I brought it all the way from Nebulnes — it's a rare piece. It took a lot of effort. I'm not selling it cheap. Even without power, it's the kind of thing a collector would pay good money for. Right, Arnold?"
Ei grinned at Citry's words, glancing at Arnold's expression.
Sell it for as much as possible. If the other party was a higher-level Hunter than Arnold's group, they should have money to spare.
Ei's words were a bluff. At the very least, that mask hadn't found a buyer in Nebulnes. Even nobles with a taste for the rare had standards. Nobody in their right mind would want a flesh mask that looked like it was cursed.
Citry covered her mouth with an expression of difficulty.
"I see... I understand the situation. However, I'm sorry to say — even in this capital, there's probably no one who would want that grotesque mask. And Klye hasn't said it's an absolute must-have."
The negotiation was still in the probing stage.
Hearing those words, Thousand Transformations' brow twitched.
His expression flickered for an instant. Seeing that, Ei looked confused.
The change in expression was far too obvious. This was beyond a poker face issue.
When things were this transparent, you couldn't tell if the person was genuinely rattled or just putting on an act.
As expected, a dangerous opponent to let your guard down around.
"We're not saying we don't want to sell."
"Presumably, selling it through us would fetch more than at auction. I don't imagine there's anyone at auction who'd bid on that item. And I'd think Arnold, who's been classified as high-level, would agree?"
It hit a nerve. When Arnold's group had commissioned the appraisal, they'd been told the same thing beforehand.
Both Hunters and nobles were cautious about purchasing Treasure Weapons.
While not a huge number, some Treasure Weapons posed a risk to their owners. And those items tended to have — well, "that kind of" appearance.
In the world of Treasure Weapons, an ugly appearance was a significant drawback.
"That ain't fair."
Arnold crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair with a huff. He glared not at Citry but at Thousand Transformations, and spoke with force.
"That's something my crew worked hard to find. But we still don't know what it does. Having a powerful Treasure Weapon bought for peanuts — that's just insult to injury. I'd rather throw it away."
He'd heard there was a chance that mask couldn't even be appraised.
There were two main methods of appraising a Treasure Weapon: investigation based on accumulated information, and trial activation.
If the former yielded no results, it would lead to the latter, but appraisers were human too. Obviously dangerous Treasure Weapons could be returned as unappraisable. And that mask had indeed been returned in Nebulnes.
The appraiser who had received the item was a man with decades of experience, one of the most skilled in the capital. If he refused to appraise it, nobody in this city would be able to.
If that happened, the mask would only sell as a collector's curiosity.
"You seem to have some idea of what it does. At this rate, we can't set a price. Why don't you tell us what kind of power it has?"
That was just a feint.
Information was money. Nobody in their right mind would simply hand it over when asked. But if it served as material to drive up the price, that was fine.
Beside him, Citry was frowning with exasperation.
And then, Thousand Transformations spoke with a serious expression.
"That... I can't tell you."
"Hmph..."
Just as Arnold had expected. As Arnold raised his voice to protest, Thousand Transformations smiled ruefully and said something unexpected.
"But there is one thing I can tell you — if my guess is correct, it's a little dangerous. Even this country's laws restrict its use. You'd be better off getting rid of it quickly."