I kept my body poised to spring at any moment, observing the two wearing those unsettling masks.
The motif seemed to be skulls. The predominantly black masks completely concealed their expressions—not even their eyes were visible.
These were not masks a reasonable person would wear. Members of certain Arcane Society groups or cults worshiping evil gods might wear them. Or perhaps they also served to conceal identity?
The two seated in chairs showed no sign of fear.
One of them—the one from Peerless Shadow—sat with both feet propped on the table as if this were their own room, while Citry, who had come to negotiate alongside Thousand Transformations last time, sat upright with proper posture, yet showed no trace of tension.
This place should have been enemy territory for the two of them now, yet here they were, acting as brazenly as bandits.
We had the numerical advantage. But their sheer composure was making the companions who had entered behind me hesitant.
Ei shouted with a cracking voice.
"Y-You lot—were you a Red Party!?"
"...What are you talking about, a 'share'?"
There had been no information suggesting that Mourning Specter was a Red Party.
But the way the two of them behaved now was extremely practiced. It didn't look like their first time at all.
Had they eliminated all witnesses, or did Mourning Specter hold a position in this city where a certain degree of tyranny was tolerated? Either way, the situation was bad.
If they were just punks or thugs, they could be dealt with easily. But they were Hunters who had absorbed Mana Material and strengthened themselves just the same. Moreover, their Party's certified Level was 8—higher than Thunder Dragon of the Mist. There were two of them, and the situation was unfavorable for a fight.
Arnold's group had been drinking heavily. Not enough to be unable to fight, but they wouldn't be able to perform at their usual level.
As if reading Arnold's thoughts, Citry spoke slowly in a calming manner.
"There's no need to be on guard, Arnold-san. Our leader wishes for a peaceful resolution. Besides, this isn't a bad deal for Thunder Dragon of the Mist, either."
"Ci, you're being too soft! They're the ones who took so long and caused trouble for Rizu and the others—we need to handle this properly—"
She slammed her foot down hard on the table, and the mask turned to stare directly at Arnold.
The killing intent—just as intense as when they had faced the Phantom—was stronger than that of any Red Party Arnold's group had ever subdued.
Their combat ability was likely on par with Arnold, who was certified Level 7. For Arnold, who favored destructive power over handling in his equipment choices of a greatsword, they would be a difficult opponent.
He didn't know Citry's abilities, but assuming she was on par with Rizu, the optimal action for Arnold's group would be to stall both of them and rush to the Knights of Order's outpost.
But if they fled without putting up a fight, it would hinder their future activities.
In the tense atmosphere, Citry poked Rizu's shoulder with a troubled expression. Rizu clicked her tongue softly and lowered her feet from the table.
It didn't seem like they had come to start a fight.
Citry gave a small shrug toward Arnold's group, who remained standing, and began to speak.
"The 'share' refers to the auction matter. Arnold-san, the amount for the Treasure Weapon you submitted was driven up by Krai-san's scheme. We also have the right to receive a portion of that."
Ei, standing behind, retorted while keeping his hand ready to draw his short sword at any moment.
"...That's ridiculous. Sure, it sold at an unexpected price, but that wasn't your doing. We were the ones who took the Treasure Weapon home. It was just the result of your leader's poor judgment."
"Krai-san didn't even participate in that mask auction to begin with. Look into it and you'll find out immediately."
"...What?"
At the unexpected words, Arnold's eyes widened.
He was wearing a mask, so his expression was unreadable. But Citry's voice was laughing.
"Merchants, nobles, and Hunters alike were all dancing to the tune of the rumors Krai-san spread. You didn't notice, did you?"
He hadn't noticed. He truly hadn't noticed.
There had been no lies in the way Krai approached the negotiation. His expression, his tone of voice, his subtle gestures—along with the genuine shock the noble had shown when calling out a bid, it had all felt real.
He stared at the mask before him in disbelief.
If that entire sequence had been a bluff, then Thousand Transformations was even more cunning than Arnold had imagined.
"...This is absurd. What exactly was the purpose—"
"That's a secret. But, Arnold-san, you must have been thinking the same thing—that 'There's no way a Treasure Weapon with no takers could sell for over a hundred million. It's like a dream.'"
He recalled the conversation at the tavern earlier. Indeed, he had thought exactly that.
A flesh mask that couldn't even be appraised, looking thoroughly ominous, selling for two hundred million—by Arnold's common sense until now, it was impossible.
If everything had been manipulated by someone, it would at least explain things.
"Thanks to all of you, we also achieved our objective. Thank you."
Citry bowed her head slightly, then added, "However—"
"Even if you hadn't been informed, Arnold-san, you still gained more profit than you originally would have. We're Hunters too, and we can't very well let it be thought that we lost to you. The 'share'—that's what this is about."
Her voice was calm, but carried an irresistible force.
It was a hard story to swallow. Even granting that Thousand Transformations' scheme was real, Arnold's group had no obligation to hand over a share.
But refusing to honor the negotiation would also carry significant risk.
In that split second, he weighed the pros and cons.
The ones who had lost out in this auction were the nobles. If their collusion to drive up prices was exposed, it would cause them considerable trouble.
Even if Arnold's group claimed ignorance, being targeted by powerful nobles could affect their future activities.
While clearly not a legal method, facing Hunters so skilled at information manipulation that they could turn trash into a hundred-million-asset in just a few days was more than they could handle.
In the Kingdom of Mist it might be different, but in this Imperial Capital, Arnold's group had few allies.
Ei, understanding the situation, looked up at Arnold with an anxious expression. The other members had also gone pale, their earlier good mood now vanished like a lie.
"...You're trying to extort us?"
"I'm telling you it's a legitimate share. Besides, this Imperial Capital is Rizu and the others' turf, you know? Hmm? You made Rizu pour your drinks, you kept Rizu and the others waiting like this, and you think two hundred million Gill is enough to settle it? Consider yourself lucky—otherwise I'll kill you."
Two hundred million? Did she just say two hundred million?
Forget a share—that was the entire auction proceeds. No... accounting for the commission taken by the auction house from the hammer price, it was actually a net loss from Arnold's perspective.
This was far beyond acceptable. At the amount exceeding their expectations, his companions' already pale faces grew grimmer.
There was no way they could agree. First of all, facing them were eight Hunters of a Level 7 Party—this was way too much of a provocation.
If they quietly paid up here, that would truly be the end of their Hunter careers. The Party would dissolve as well.
Negotiations had broken down. All that remained was a violent confrontation.
He'd make them regret underestimating him. He'd show these countryside hicks the power of Mighty Thunder Flash.
Just as Arnold was about to clench his arm, Citry spoke in an exasperated tone.
"Sis, shut up! There's no way we'd take the full amount! It's a share, obviously. Besides, after the commission, Arnold-san's group would end up with a loss—you have to do your job properly!"
"Huh? Just wipe them all out and take it. They're Hunters, not civilians, so there's no rule against it."
Before eight Hunters in fighting stance, an argument broke out.
It didn't seem remotely sane. Or perhaps they were that confident in their abilities?
Setting Rizu aside, Citry seemed to be a back-row type. Arnold couldn't believe she could dodge a front-line Hunter's strike at this distance.
Citry chastised Rizu, then took a small bottle from the potion holder at her waist and placed it on the table.
Inside, a transparent golden liquid swayed gently.
"One hundred ten million Gill. That is the share we're requesting—the amount our leader demands."
The auction proceeds had been two hundred million Gill. That meant Arnold's group would receive ninety million Gill.
The amount was substantial, but far more reasonable than before. His companions exchanged glances.
"You must have found it hard to believe it would go for over a hundred million too, Arnold-san? You'd be right. If Arnold-san's group gets ninety million Gill and we get one hundred ten million Gill, both sides save face, and you receive more than you originally would have. Let's settle this—call it even."
It was an exquisitely balanced compromise.
Ninety million Gill. Less than half of two hundred million, but far more than Arnold had expected from that Treasure Weapon.
Most importantly, while one hundred ten million Gill was indeed a large sum, it wasn't an amount worth holding a grudge over for Thunder Dragon of the Mist. If it meant avoiding a conflict with a Level 8 certified Party, it was practically cheap. The logic was... well, not unreasonable.
He could accept it. But—that attitude of theirs, their composure, grated on him.
Arnold was a Level 7 Hunter. They were treating him far too dismissively. His companions were nervous, which was precisely why he, as the leader, had to stay strong.
Besides, there was one flaw in Citry's argument. He snorted and looked down at Citry.
"If money moves from us to you, that would raise suspicion of fraud, wouldn't it? What do you plan to do about that?"
He didn't know how much influence Mourning Specter wielded in this Imperial Capital, but they surely didn't rule Zebuldia.
If the rumor-spreading became public, it would be just as problematic for Thousand Transformations. And while Arnold's group could flee the capital at worst, Mourning Specter called this city their hometown.
To that question, Citry picked up the elegant glass bottle filled with liquid, shook it ostentatiously, and let out a soft laugh.
"That's why I'm selling this potion for one hundred ten million Gill. It's an 'antidote.' It's quite potent, so one bottle should be effective for everyone. I don't mind being made to wait for a long time—quite the opposite, it would be better if you all consumed a large amount. Was the alcohol tasty? Forgive my ignorance, but as an Alchemist, what I see Arnold-san's group is lacking is... 'resistance.'"
They'd poisoned the liquor!?
Ei, his companions—they were all pale. There was no pain in their bodies so far, but now that it was mentioned, the alcohol did seem to have hit them unusually fast.
This was a high-end inn. The possibility of the tavern staff being bribed was low, but their room's lock had been broken.
Citry, who had seemed so reasonable until now, suddenly looked more menacing than Rizu. The ticking of the clock sounded unnervingly loud.
"Now then... which matters more to you—your companions, or your money?"
§ § § Before the countless pure-white fragments scattered across the desk, I tilted my head.
The position of the clock's hands indicated that quite some time had passed since I'd started working.
I rubbed my eyes, blurred from fatigue, and stretched my stiff shoulders wide to loosen them. With a knock, Eva entered.
She stared wide-eyed at the sorry state of the desk, which was normally kept empty.
"...What are you doing?"
"A jigsaw puzzle. The white one, you know."
I'd remembered the one I'd bought and left sitting around.
Unlike a normal puzzle, every piece was white, and with a thousand pieces, it was brutal.
Jigsaw puzzles weren't really my hobby, and this was proof of just how much of an idle person I was.
I'd at least managed to assemble the outer edge, but progress beyond that was agonizingly slow. I felt like I was going to lose my mind.
Eva let out a sigh, gazing down at the desk.
"...Why on earth, of all things?"
Because I was bored.
But of course, I wouldn't say that honestly. I put on a jaded smile, lifted a puzzle piece, and declared: "Because I've done everything I could do."
Hard-boiled, right?
Though you could also say there was precious little I could do.
"...Really?"
"That's right! When Ark gets back, I'd like to have tea and snacks prepared."
I had to butter her up. Debts and favors should be kept to a minimum.
The mask. The Changing Human Face would be mine soon. As I started to rise, Eva quickly stopped me.
"That's not the Clan Master's job. I'll prepare everything, so just sit there and do nothing."
"You're the best. That's right... I think it'll be fine, but for tea, something that helps with mental fatigue would be good. She must be exhausted from dealing with nobles all day."
"Sure, sure."