#chapter 64
—
“So… that slave trader is the one funding Cain Dormund from behind the scenes?”
Arthur gave a nod.
Leon stroked his chin and muttered.
*‘Interesting… even Marshal couldn’t dig up information on Cain Dormund.’*
Marshal—the man who had managed to extract even the secrets of the Imperial Palace.
Scour the entire continent, and it would still be hard to find a spy more skilled than him.
And yet Arthur Bayern possessed information that even that Marshal had been unable to uncover.
*‘Should I believe this? …No. Even if I don’t, there’s no harm in it.’*
Whether it was true or not, Arthur Bayern had come seeking his help.
For Leon—who ran a secret organization dedicated to eliminating Khan Madrid—that was a very good sign.
*‘The heir of House Bayern. Where could I possibly find a more outstanding talent than that?’*
So the truth of the matter didn’t particularly matter.
If it was true, they would be cutting off the funding source of Cain Dormund—Khan Madrid’s right-hand man.
And if it wasn’t, he could still secure Arthur’s trust.
Having thought that far, Leon smiled and spoke.
“Then from now on, are we friends? Enemies of yesterday, friends of today—just like the old saying in this world?”
Arthur let out a dry chuckle.
“Friends? No. A cooperative relationship.”
With those words, Arthur rose from his seat.
“This Sunday at one o’clock. Let’s meet at the central plaza. I’ll give you the details then.”
—
—
The promised day arrived.
As he checked the condition of Beast and the meteor-iron Sword, Arthur muttered.
“Hmm… I recruited him on impulse, but will this really work out?”
Leon Madrid.
The Imperial Prince whose intentions were unreadable.
He claimed his goal was to kill Khan Madrid, that man—but Arthur didn’t believe him.
*‘He could easily have another agenda.’*
Even so, Arthur had proposed this mission to Leon, precisely because his abilities were that exceptional.
*‘Even if you’re born with a bloodline ability, putting a hundred people under hypnosis isn’t exactly something anyone can do.’*
Considering the countless battle gangs and mercenaries hired in Hamburg, Leon’s abilities would likely prove to be a tremendous asset.
*‘On the assumption he doesn’t betray me… well, even if he does, it won’t matter.’*
If Leon struck from behind, Arthur would kill him this time for sure.
With that thought, Arthur finished checking Beast and the meteor-iron Sword, then set out for Sector B-17.
“Hey there—! Arthur Bayern!”
Leon, who had arrived first and was waiting, waved cheerfully.
As he walked toward him, Arthur narrowed his eyes.
“…What on earth are you wearing, Your Highness?”
“Hmm? My clothes?”
“Yes. Are you going on a vacation or something?”
At that, Leon proudly lifted up his t-shirt, decorated with palm trees.
“Isn’t it nice?”
“….”
“This is a special outfit sold only in the Huaai Islands. I heard that these days, young people always wear this when going on a trip!”
Arthur tilted his head.
“You’re the type to keep up with trends?”
“I try not to fall behind. But this isn’t the only reason I wore this.”
Leon’s eyes sparkled.
“After all, aren’t we supposed to be travelers who booked a vacation package? To avoid suspicion, we must be dressed accordingly!”
Arthur let out a low exclamation.
“Ohh… so this is a disguise?”
“Exactly! If anything, your outfit stands out more! What traveler goes on vacation wearing such a dreary cloak?”
Arthur stroked his chin.
Leon’s words weren’t wrong. Looking at himself, his current outfit could hardly be called travel attire.
*‘To avoid suspicion, we need to look like perfect tourists… only then will the chance for assassination increase.’*
After considering that, Arthur carefully asked.
“…By chance, do you have another set of those clothes, Your Highness?”
“Of course I do. I anticipated this and brought a spare!”
“But without a cloak, I can’t hide my weapons.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll hide them most ingeniously. Hehe…”
With Leon’s confident assurance, Arthur changed into the clothes he handed over.
At the same time, the pistol and sword he was wearing turned invisible—an astonishing transformation without the slightest trace of magic.
“Wow… Your eyes, seriously, is there anything they *can’t* do? You can even do this?”
Leon raised two fingers into a V-sign.
“My eyes are a little special, you see! Anyway, when are those slave traders supposed to show up?”
“They should be here soon. Maybe in about ten minutes?”
Just then, a refined-looking carriage approached from afar.
Seeing that, both Leon and Arthur cut their chatter short and turned their gaze toward it.
“…Are you, perhaps, the ones who reserved the <La La La> travel package?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
At Leon’s reply, the coachman who stepped down from the carriage made an offer.
“We can head straight to the destination now, if you’d like. The first stop is the resort in Sector B-41, which has a truly beautiful view…”
Arthur raised his hand to interrupt.
“Lots of money, but nothing left to buy.”
“….”
“So instead of some resort, I’d like to see something more private. Would that be possible?”
At those words, Leon blinked.
*‘What… what kind of nonsense is that? Is that some kind of password?’*
With that thought, he turned his gaze—and froze.
The friendly smile that had been on the coachman’s face was now hidden beneath a grotesque clown mask.
“My, my… so you weren’t here for a vacation after all, but for other business.”
Bowing politely, the coachman explained in a chilling voice.
“Instead of Sector B-41, I’ll guide you to Sector D-52. Please step into the carriage.”
—
—
The carriage sped onward.
To Sector D—the slums, one of Arcane’s four residential districts.
Inside, the prince activated his ability and asked:
*\[Was that just now… a code?]*
Hearing Leon’s voice echo directly in his mind, Arthur nodded.
*\[Isn’t that a bit too sloppy? That ridiculous phrase is all it takes to gain entry into a slave auction?]*
Arthur subtly raised his hand and pointed forward.
Leon followed his gaze and nearly flinched.
*‘He’s pretending not to listen, but his ears are wide open.’*
The tense, on-edge demeanor was anything but that of an ordinary coachman.
Leon, thinking that far, activated his bloodline ability.
*\[Speak in your mind. That way, we can talk without sound.]*
Arthur, pretending to look out the window, did as instructed.
*\[Can you hear me, Your Highness?]*
*\[Loud and clear.]*
*\[Oh… this is an impressive ability too.]*
*\[It’s a type of telepathy. Since no magic can be felt, it’s a higher-grade method of communication.]*
Arthur nodded and said:
*\[Let’s keep talking like this. That coachman has been fidgeting with his hands for a while now. Seems he doesn’t completely trust us.]*
*\[…So the code alone isn’t enough?]*
*\[Not exactly. The code *is* everything. After all, Arcane doesn’t have just one or two slave markets.]*
*\[Not just one or two?]*
*\[That’s right. There’s competition even among places like these. But if they screened every guest thoroughly, do you think they’d attract many customers?]*
Leon’s expression grew ambiguous at the explanation.
Just then, the carriage slowed, and the coachman turned his head.
“From here, you’ll have to continue on foot.”
Arthur and Leon stepped out of the carriage.
The coachman, watching them, tapped his mask.
“You did remember to bring the required item, didn’t you?”
“Of course. Ta-dah.”
Arthur pulled out a mask.
Leon blinked beside him.
“What… is that?”
“They said it’s required, so let’s wear them. Leon.”
With a reluctant expression, Leon donned a fox mask.
Arthur’s was a tiger mask.
Seeing that, the coachman bowed.
“Welcome to the <La La La> Auction House.”
At the same time, the iron gate ahead creaked open.
Leon and Arthur widened their eyes.
“Ohh…?”
Sector D-52.
It was another world hidden within the slums.
—
—
Unpleasant laughter echoed from all around.
*Kya-ha-ha-ha\~*
*Hahaha!*
Leon’s expression hardened at the sight.
*‘Drugs. Hallucinogens… or what should I even call this?’*
Everyone roaming the streets was laughing with frenzied joy.
Their faces hidden behind masks, their expressions couldn’t be seen—but that laughter was unmistakably unnatural.
No normal human could laugh like that for so long.
Then Arthur, beside him, muttered.
“Hmm… they’re crying.”
“…Crying?”
“Yes. Can’t you hear the sobbing mixed into their laughter?”
Leon’s eyes widened.
Listening carefully, he realized Arthur was right. They really were crying.
*‘What is this? So it isn’t just ordinary drugs?’*
As Leon’s expression clouded, Arthur scratched his head.
“They say if you cry and laugh at the same time, hair grows out of your asshole. Hm…”
“…Is that really something to say right now?”
“It’s not untrue, is it?”
Leon shook his head in disbelief.
Meanwhile, the coachman walking ahead turned his head.
“This is a drug distributed on our side.”
“A drug?”
“Yes. A very special one. An illusory world where one can escape reality’s pain and go to the place of their dreams. We call it \[AB-21].”
As he said this, the coachman offered something.
A strange pill of two colors—blue and red swirled together.
“…Would you like to try it?”
At the offer, Arthur shrugged.
“We didn’t come here for drugs.”
“Oh…?”
“I heard there was to be an auction here?”
The coachman nodded.
“You mean the slave auction. A reservation is required, so I’ll first arrange accommodations for you.”
He led Arthur and Leon into a room bathed in dazzling light.
“Before long, another steward will come to fetch you.”
With that explanation, the coachman bowed and left the room.
Leon, taking off his fox mask, muttered.
“This place… it reeks. The air, the atmosphere, the scenery—everything.”
Arthur nodded.
The people stumbling like zombies in the streets.
The dim lighting and buildings shrouded in darkness.
Sector D had always been a slum, but discovering a hidden place like this was still startling.
*‘A special barrier hiding the exterior? That would mean there are mages involved as well…’*
With that thought, Arthur tapped his fingers lightly.
Meanwhile, Leon adjusted his mask again and spoke.
“So what’s the plan?”
“The plan?”
“You don’t mean to just go in for a straightforward assassination, do you?”
Arthur nodded.
“Of course not. First, we’ll locate Hamburg Erison.”
“And then?”
“Then, using both my ability and Your Highness’s, we assassinate him—and escape.”
Leon blinked.
“That’s it?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“…From the way you put it, it sounds like nothing more than plain assassination.”
Arthur tilted his head at the question.
“Do you have a more effective method, then?”
“Well, no, but…”
“Sure, we could draft up a detailed plan, but think about it, Your Highness.”
Arthur pointed a finger toward one side.
At that moment, Leon’s eyes shifted into crescent shapes, and he murmured in admiration.
“They’re watching us?”
“Yes. The one over the rooftop, for instance. And from the moment we arrived, there’s been surveillance at regular intervals.”
“….”
“In this situation, sticking strictly to a plan only puts us at risk. It’s better to judge on the spot, adapting to variables as they arise.”
Leon gave a low whistle.
“Not bad. But are you confident?”
“Of course. As long as *Your Highness* doesn’t hold me back.”
Leon shook his head with a wry smile.
*‘Judging from the skill he showed last time, it’s not even an exaggeration…’*
Still, it would be reckless to move forward without further information.
Thinking that, Leon activated the hidden power of his eyes.
The air rippled, and a man with narrow eyes appeared, bowing deeply.
Marshal Dust.
“Marshal. Locate Hamburg Erison for me.”
*\[Understood, Your Highness.]*
With that, the narrow-eyed man vanished.
Watching this, Arthur spoke up.
“You brought him too?”
“He’s always linked to me. For now, let’s leave Hamburg’s whereabouts to Marshal.”
At the prince’s reply, Arthur smirked faintly.
“Besides him, do you have others who follow you?”
“They’re scattered all over. Not right now, though.”
The words had barely faded when someone knocked at the door.
“May I come in?”
“Yes.”
The door opened, and a man in a clown mask entered, bowing.
Judging by his build, he wasn’t the same coachman from before.
“Fortunately, we’ve managed to reserve a spot at tonight’s auction, gentlemen.”
“Oh. That’s good news.”
“Yes. In fact, you’re very lucky. Without a reservation, it’s almost impossible to attend a slave auction. And what’s more…”
Trailing off, the steward smirked.
“Tonight’s auction will feature a very special slave. Have you ever heard of an ‘Elf’?”
Arthur’s eyes widened.
“An Elf?”
“Yes. A race that vanished a thousand years ago…”
Arthur couldn’t help but exclaim at the explanation.
“The so-called incarnations of beauty—the masters of the forest. One of their descendants will be up for auction tonight.”
—
