Chapter 21: Turning Crisis into Opportunity (1)
The development studio behind Blood And Bone was infamous for their perversion—not in a lewd sense, but more for their glorification of gore.
A story that changes based on choices.
This, coupled with a generous degree of freedom that would drive any gamer wild, resulted in it being treated as a minor title, likely due to its horror-filled nature.
After all, the studio was well-known for its penchant for grinding orphans into its narratives.
And now, here I was, in a black market.
A place that seemed to gather only the abyss of an already dark world.
“…Ugh.”
I fought back the urge to vomit.
I was wearing a mask, after all.
A mask given to those who entered using VIP tickets, rated as high-quality enough to withstand most magical scrutiny.
There was no gain in showing my face here, so I had to keep this wolf mask on, even though the thought of it getting dirty made me uneasy.
As I averted my gaze from the revolting sights, a thought popped into my mind.
‘What about the others? They’re younger than me.’
With that thought, I glanced at Siel.
…She seemed fine.
Actually, it would’ve been scarier if she had freaked out in such a situation.
“Why are you covering my eyes?”
I had covered her eyes every time something unsettling passed by, just in case. And that was her question back to me.
“…No, it’s because of the elves.”
Elves usually have a strong sense of kinship. I hadn’t wanted to show her the amputated elf slaves.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t really care.”
It seemed Siel’s sense of kinship was rather shallow.
Or, perhaps she even disliked it.
“Besides, that’s not an elf.”
Siel’s unexpected remark caught me off guard.
I looked back at the slave I had seen earlier and… suddenly realized.
An elf at that price?
That’s absurd.
And upon reflecting on it, it’s odd that a species as esteemed as elves would be mistreated and enslaved like that.
Even if that were the case, if they spent enough time away from the World Tree for their amputated parts to heal, it would be more natural for them to die before that.
Elves and the World Tree are inseparable beings.
To be alive away from the World Tree due to being a half-elf seems unlikely, given how long their ears are.
So, are those just fake ears?
Such dedication in this deceit!
Nonetheless, since Siel seemed unfazed, I shifted my focus to Lien, who was gentler-hearted.
Through her puppy mask, a glimmer shone in her eyes.
Those eyes, filled with madness, sparkled dangerously, as if they might explode at any moment.
“…Snap out of it.”
I lightly tapped the back of the girl’s head with a flick of my wrist.
Was the problem that she enjoyed this too much?
I ought to keep an eye on her to ensure she didn’t lose her mind.
As I pondered this, I soon realized.
Am I the only one trembling in fear here?
A strange sensation washed over me.
These kids are fine, yet here I am, panicking.
With thoughts swirling, I averted my eyes from the entrails and various grotesque items as I walked… until I spotted a comrade.
Miss Rubia was shaking.
Her face, hidden behind a fox mask, was invisible, but I could imagine her expression.
A peculiar sense of familiarity and kinship drove me to approach Miss Rubia, thinking sharing our fears could lessen them.
And then… her trembling intensified.
How fearful could this person be?
She always seems to shake whenever I see her.
*
The black market.
The black market is held every six months.
However, the buildings and landmarks are all the same.
No, more than similar—they’re identical.
The reason is simple.
All these buildings are magically constructed.
A creation of an archmage.
It’s no wonder the Empire dares not meddle with the black market.
‘…Well, truth be told, that archmage died a long time ago.’
It’s merely his disciple who is recreating the magic using the relics left behind. However, the Empire remains completely ignorant of this fact.
They wouldn’t dare disturb an archmage, and regardless, such illicit trades will always find a way to surface elsewhere.
It’s a tacitly tolerated activity under surveillance.
There might be Empire soldiers lurking somewhere here.
Considering the average soldier in the Empire, there are clearly quite a few who come here for pleasure rather than for actual surveillance.
After all, this place offers all sorts of horrific entertainment.
Like a venue where you can experience dissecting a living person… or places even worse than that.
Just thinking about it made me feel nauseous again, and I frantically tried to wipe those images from my mind.
Anyway, that’s none of our concern right now.
I wandered the streets, searching for our destination, passing by shops that I sincerely hoped not to know more about… until we entered the largest building.
“Thank you for visiting our auction house.”
With a polite greeting,
A man dressed in a sleek suit courteously welcomed us.
This was the main event—the largest auction house in the area.
Naturally, it was bustling with people.
The grand building was jam-packed.
But that didn’t bother us.
There’s a reason VIPs are VIPs.
Instead of the crowded pathways, we were led through a spacious, nearly empty private corridor by the staff.
Large glass windows.
A lofty height.
From the private box, the entire scene of the auction house was in view.
“If there’s anything you wish to bid on, please feel free to press the button in front of you.”
With polite assistance, the man brought us drinks.
…Not that we could drink them, being minors.
Regardless, the man left after offering cordial words and reminding us to call him anytime if we needed anything.
The more I looked, the more amazed I became, prompting me to ask her.
“How on earth did you acquire this?”
Securing a VIP ticket is notoriously difficult. Knowing from the original work how much of a struggle it was to get one, I couldn’t help but feel awed.
“…”
But the look she shot back was fierce.
Miss Rubia didn’t say a word, and though her face was concealed behind the mask, I could almost hear an accusatory voice saying, ‘You’re the one who begged me to get it.’
No, I did say a VIP ticket would be ideal, but I never imagined it would be actually obtainable.
I have a conscience, after all.
With less than three days left, I never expected to hold such a precious item in my hands.
I felt a twinge of guilt.
“Let’s buy something on our way out after the auction.”
Being human, I felt compelled to say that.
It would be inhumane not to repay this favor, especially since I had saved a recipe for such an occasion. Maybe Miss Rubia and I could even kickstart a potion brewing business together.
“…”
I meant it that way, but the glare I received was even more intimidating than before.
Her eyes seemed to demand, ‘How much more do you need to take from me to feel satisfied?’
I was about to quickly clarify when…
“The first item is a 300-year-old elf eyeball!”
That declaration yanked my gaze back to the glass window.
The auction had begun.
Though the item was of little use to me.
“Siel?”
While I was waiting for the next item to be revealed, Siel suddenly pressed her forehead against the glass window, scrutinizing the item intently.
When I asked why she was doing that, her answer came back startlingly simple.
“I thought it might be my mother.”
…What on earth am I supposed to say to that? After a long pause, I barely managed to speak.
“Do you… want me to buy it if it’s bothering you?”
However, Siel shook her head, dismissing the idea.
“It’s fine. It doesn’t seem like her.”
“That’s… good, I guess.”
…Is it really right to feel relieved about this? My head suddenly began to spin.
‘Why do I feel like we shouldn’t have come here?’
I’d planned to acquire artifacts and gather allies, but it feels like we ended up with nothing substantial.
The second item was presented, then the third. While they could be considered rare, they were not necessary for me.
Perhaps it would have been better to visit an auction specializing in slave trades instead.
At that moment, as I sighed deeply with frustration, something changed.
“This next item is quite special.”
The man said gravely. Of course, from his perspective, he had to embellish the items to fetch a higher price.
Yet, something felt different this time.
The presenter was moving something while clad in expensive protective gear.
Suddenly, Siel wrapped around me. Miss Rubia went beyond trembling legs and collapsed onto the floor.
Such strange phenomena were occurring to everyone in the auction house.
Yet, I remained unaffected.
What this indicated was clear: something was contaminating the thoughts of these people right now.
A staff member, fully armored, showcased the item to the audience.
And then, my breath hitched.
That design.
That blade.
It was an item I had seen countless times while playing the previous game.
“A cursed sword, exuding a foreboding curse!”
It’s the holy sword.
The one used by the protagonist in the previous work.
…A shattered holy sword, radiating dark energy.
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