Chapter 8

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: The Princess Only Deals in the Real Thing 17

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Unlike the Merchant Guild members who had doubted me personally and tested me, this man didn't seem to be doing that. But he kept probing.

"A carrot."

So I decided not to take him at his word.

The man looked utterly bewildered.

"A carrot?"

"Yes. I hate carrots. So I can't tell good ones from bad ones. To me, they're all bad carrots."

"Aha... I see... A carrot. Fortunately, what I brought isn't a carrot."

"Good. Please set non-carrot items right here. And your name?"

"Ah, didn't Michele tell you about me?"

'Well, well?'

I think I knew why he kept probing.

It wasn't the sulky tone of a regular customer wondering why I didn't know him. It was more like he was confirming.

So he wasn't doubting me...

'He's testing if I know who he is?'

I narrowed my eyes.

"Yes. Tell me your name, and I'll check the records."

"No need for that, boss who hates carrots. My name won't be in the ledger."

"...Weren't you a regular? I figured you two were close since you knew Grandpa had a granddaughter. He doesn't talk about himself much, you know."

A man who hid his identity as the Lionet Duke even from his own granddaughter—how could he?

"Well, we saw each other pretty often... Anyway, my name's not in the ledger. More importantly, could you take a look at this?"

The man glossed over it and set down a square golden box.

It looked expensive at a glance. I picked up my loupe and light with a wary feeling.

No records of buying or selling it, but he'd seen Grandpa often. Keeps probing if I know him. Dodges when I ask his name.

I opened the lid, and what I'd thought was a box turned out to be a golden music box.

As the cheerful, plump-plump melody tinkled out, I examined it closely before speaking.

"Sir."

"Yes."

"May I see the certificate?"

"Hmm, don't have one."

"Receipt or auction records?"

"No, those either."

"Did you make it yourself? Or commission an artisan?"

"Come on, no way."

"Any story about how you came by it?"

"Eh?"

Now I got it.

Why he'd tested if I knew him.

"...Where the hell did you get this?"

"Why? No value? Too small an item?"

"No, sir. This is a Holy Artifact."

This guy—obviously.

No matter who looked at it.

"Grandpa, why the long face? You always frown, but today your brow wrinkles are even deeper."

"This... always teasing your old man when you get the chance... Never mind. It's because a pickpocket thief shows up trying to sell stolen goods."

"Wow, bold. Daring to fool Grandpa? Must have a swollen liver."

"Yeah. Talking back like that earned him a solid punch."

"Pfft, coming from you, Grandpa, it doesn't sound like a joke."

"......"

"......Grandpa...?"

A thief.

A big-time thief who'd stolen a Holy Artifact, no less!

'Somehow kept that liver intact all this time.'

This was different from the woman who'd brought the Emerald Pendant. This man hadn't answered a thing.

But the thief seemed even more shocked than I was.

His eyes widened at the word "Holy Artifact."

"A Holy Artifact."

I drove the nail in again, and he flinched.

He didn't deliberate long.

"You bastard—where'd you swipe this from?!"

I went straight on the attack.

"H-How did you know it's a Holy Artifact?!"

Instead of answering, he threw out that ridiculous counterquestion. Clearly, he hadn't expected me to spot it.

As if.

"It's obvious at a glance!"

"But you said you didn't know me! That you'd never heard of me!"

"What's that got to do with anything right now?!"

That was when I reached for the security magic tool button.

The thief snatched the Holy Artifact music box and bolted outside.

Bang!

The iron grate slammed down late, trapping me inside by accident.

"I-It wasn't me who stole it! I'm not a thief!"

"A thief who calls himself a thief?"

"The world's a big place—surely there's room for one like that!"

Was there? Hearing it, it made sense. The world was wide, full of all kinds of people.

No, that wasn't the point right now!

'Spray! Where's the spray!'

I grabbed the security spray magic tool and unleashed it.

But I'd overlooked one crucial fact.

The torrential downpour outside the window.

Sizzle—as soon as I sprayed, the wind and rain blew it right back in...

"Argh, it stings!"

I took the full hit.

It felt like a pepper shower. Tears streamed out uncontrollably.

As I rolled around on the floor, the thief's voice came from outside.

"I'm really not a thief! I get how it looks like a misunderstanding!"

"Sniff, sob..."

"...Not the time to talk. I'll explain next time!"

"What next! Stop right there—! Achoo, haa, this is driving me nuts..."

"There! To the right! Up! No, a bit lower! Yeah, there! Water's right there!"

Flailing my hand as the thief directed, I grabbed a water bottle.

But it did nothing. Blinded by tears and battered by the wind, I crawled to the counter.

"Might as well take the day off and rest!"

Teasing me now?

I wanted to snap back, but the sneezes came faster than words.

As I sneezed nonstop, the thief yelled while putting distance between us.

"It's true! Fine, I'll tell you my name. Cresens! I'll come back!"

Don't come! Why would you! I don't care about your name! I didn't even ask!

Of course, I couldn't say it. Between sneezes, all I managed was "Don't, achoooo!"

I slid down onto the soaked floor and sobbed for a good while.

Anyone passing by would've thought I had some family drama going on.

"Sob, sniff, huh... Geez, what is this."

I'd been sniffling and rubbing my eyes for ages when my hand caught on something. It was Alter's business card.

Couldn't see, so I'd groped around and it must've stuck to me.

I tossed the card aside roughly and barely hauled myself up.

Spraying a bit of the holy water spray I'd stashed in the safe helped some.

'Thank you, World Tree. Was wondering what to do with this pricey stuff—perfect for times like this.'

I put the rest away and surveyed the disaster of a shop with my puffy eyes. That's when two realizations hit me.

One. The magic spray works great, but it's no good for security. Time to buy a different one.

Two. Where's my towel?

"Did that jerk take my towel?"

Of course he did—what else? He's a thief!

Cresens confirmed the woman wasn't chasing him and came to a stop.

He carefully pulled out the golden music box.

"Looks like Michele never mentioned me."

Cresens recalled what had just happened.

The woman had turned on the light and picked up her loupe. It was a standard off-the-shelf one—a simple tool for appraisals.

Not something infused with magic or holy power.

Yet?

"...How did she spot that this music box was a Holy Artifact right away?"

Even her grandfather Michele couldn't appraise Holy Artifacts with the naked eye.

But she'd nailed it in one go.

How? And why?

More importantly, she'd said it like it was no big deal.

"Obvious at a glance..."

Muttering to himself, Cresens ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

After trudging through the rain for a while, Cresens arrived at the empire's state religion, the World Tree Temple.

He passed by people bowing their heads to him. His mind was filled with thoughts of the earlier incident.

'Heard the pawnshop had reopened, so I figured Michele would be there for sure.'

He'd originally planned to have them appraise another item suspected to be a Holy Artifact.

But at the pawnshop, instead of Michele, there was his granddaughter—the one he'd only heard about.

'She looks nothing like him, but the vibe was similar enough that I knew.'

Cresens had considered just leaving, but figured nothing ventured, nothing gained.

So he'd led with the music box, already knowing it was a Holy Artifact. He hadn't expected much even as he tested her.

Michele would take about two days—maybe the granddaughter would need a month?

But.

The result was exactly as he'd seen.