The Rising of the Shield Hero Volume 10 Page 11

“Get back to the subject!”

  “You want to talk business, already? I was hoping to develop a bit more camaraderie with the Shield Hero. Yes sir.”

  “Whether that happens or not depends on how you behave, uncle. Yes sir.”

  Yes sir! Yes sir! Yes sir! Was there no end to it? I’d seriously had enough. Could I leave yet? I didn’t get the slave trader one bit. I had no idea why, but he always agreed with me no matter what I said. It made me think he had a hidden agenda, so I was always on my guard.

  “Heh heh heh . . . I fear his ominous aura may bewitch me. Yes sir.”

  “What, am I supposed to be evil incarnate or something?”

  “Oh, no. I’m simply referring to your special knack for using slaves. It’s something that we can sense.”

  “The Shield Hero keeps his slaves squirming just the right amount and has a charisma that would make them happily leap into the jaws of death for his sake.”

  “Bubba! I’m hungry!”

  “Maaaster! I’m huuuungry!”

  “Shield Hero! I’m hungry!”

  Why did I hear their cries for food playing in the back in my head? Was that charisma? I couldn’t let it get to me . . .

  “Enough about that, slave trader. Tell me about those slaves I want.”

  “Understood. Yes sir. Uncle, what is the status of those slaves I asked you about? Yes sir.”

  The slave trader asked the other slave trader. The other slave trader . . . Okay, this is getting ridiculous! The Zeltoble slave trader wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “About that . . . The situation has become a bit complicated. Yes sir.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “After receiving the request for slaves from Melromarc, I did make an attempt to search, but you’re looking specifically for slaves from the village of Lurolona in the Seaetto territory, are you not?”

  “That’s right.”

  The territory that I’d been given had originally belonged to Eclair, and . . . Wait, so Raphtalia’s village was called Lurolona? I didn’t know that.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Very much so. Yes sir.”

  “Wh . . . why is that?”

  The color drained from Raphtalia’s face as she asked. I had a bad feeling about this. Or rather, I had a feeling something had happened that was going to cause us a lot of trouble.

  “The thing is . . . Slaves from the village of Lurolona in Melromarc’s Seaetto territory are currently being traded for exorbitant prices in Zeltoble.”

  “Why?”

  Why in the world would the prices of the very slaves that I wanted to buy be skyrocketing? If this was thanks to some nonsense like fate, then I wanted to find whoever pushed that fate on me and beat them to death.

  But no, something as ambiguous as fate had no place in business. There was certain to be a reason for the surge in prices. Was it because the slaves had been victims of the wave? No, that couldn’t be it. If that were the case, then the prices would have gone up a while back.

  “When did the surge in prices begin?”

  “Around one month ago, I would guess. That’s when I started hearing Lurolona and the territory being mentioned in several places. Yes sir.”

  One month ago . . . We were still in Kizuna’s world then. Taking into account the difference in the rate at which time passed in this world, that would make it right around the time that the Spirit Tortoise was defeated.

  “So it’s our fault?”

  The Spirit Tortoise had destroyed multiple countries, and the commander-in-chief of the coalition army that defeated that Spirit Tortoise was me, the Shield Hero. The Shield Hero’s star slave, Raphtalia, was from Lurolona. It was only natural that the hero who had disappeared into another world in pursuit of the villain, and that hero’s slave, would gather attention. Since Raphtalia personally wasn’t as well-known as I was, the focus ended up on her village and the fact that she was a demi-human. This was the result. I might have been overthinking things, but it made sense.

  “As to be expected of the Shield Hero! Yes sir.”

  “Shit! I was right?”

  “We can only speculate, but I believe the likelihood is quite high.”

  Damn. To think our heroic deeds had backfired . . .

  “If I remember correctly, it all began when a certain merchant offered a lofty reward for the delivery of the slaves. After that, talk of the Shield Hero and his Lurolona slave gradually began to spread. Before long, any slave said to be a Lurolona demi-human—despite being unable to tell whether they truly were or not—began to fetch a high price. Yes sir.”

  So prices were skyrocketing now even though it had become difficult to tell whether the slaves being sold were actually from Raphtalia’s village. I’d seen this before. It wasn’t limited to slaves. This was what they referred to as a bubble in stock market terms. You could never know when it would crash.

  It was easier to think of it in terms of Japanese yen. Every now and then, the price of yen would begin to rise for some mysterious reason, so everyone would start buying up yen. As a result, the value of the yen would rise even further. There would still be people selling yen, of course, but the majority of people would be buying, and so the price would continue to rise. Right now, the slaves from Raphtalia’s village, Lurolona, were that yen.

  “Even so, demi-human slaves are everywhere you look. No matter how much of a hot item they are right now, there would just be too many fakes for that trend to continue, right?”

  “Indeed. That’s why it has become a requirement that the slaves speak not only the official language of Melromarc, but also the unique dialect of the Seaetto territory. Yes sir.”

  Surely that was something that they could just be taught. Then again, the language that you grew up speaking tended to be more deeply ingrained than most people realized. I had a friend once that was always speaking a certain regional dialect, even though he thought he was speaking standard Japanese. It would be obvious to anyone that knew the difference.

  That probably had something to do with the rising prices, too. Since it was only slaves from Lurolona in Melromarc’s Seaetto territory, they were kind of like limited-edition products.

  “I can’t believe this . . .”

  Raphtalia seemed to grow dizzy. She stumbled backward a few steps and I reached out and held her in place.

  “So what? Is the money that I prepared enough to buy them?”

  “To be honest, that’s not likely. Yes sir.”

  “The slaves should be appearing in the underground auctions shortly. Yes sir. I believe it would be best for the Shield Hero to go and observe the situation for himself. Yes sir.”

  I couldn’t imagine a situation so bad that even the slave traders couldn’t afford to buy up the slaves. This place sure looked like whoever was running it was filthy rich.

  “Fehhh . . .”

  Even Rishia’s whimper sounded frustrated.

  “Well let’s have a look, then.”

  “Right this way. Yes sir.”

  We put on our cloaks and followed the slave traders out into the Zeltoble night. We made our way through the back alleys, passing a variety of shops before arriving at a tavern. The slave trader approached the counter and spoke to the man standing behind it.

  “We’ll have a bottle of Goodnight Binary.”

  The tavern master furrowed his brow and cast a stern glance at us.

  “Anything to mix that with?”

  “Loose Winner Money. Yes sir.”

  The tavern master stepped aside so that we could join him behind the counter and then signaled us to follow him. He led us to a door in the back, and we continued through the doorway and down a stairway leading to the basement. Was that some kind of secret password back there? Before long, we ended up in a large hall and were shown to our seats in what appeared to be a special section.

  “This is the venue for tonight. Yes sir.”

  “Ah . . . I see.”

  So this was the undergro
und arena where they showcased illegal fights? It looked more like a place where you might see the opera or something. Or maybe a concert by some Japanese idol was more likely.

  “First, the Shield Hero should familiarize himself with the hand signals used to make a purchase during the auction.”

  Ugh, what a hassle. The slave trader began to lecture me on the hand signals used to indicate different amounts of money. He started with the cues given to the auctioneer for increasing the current bid by one copper, silver, or gold, and then moved on to the cues for increasing the bid by two, five, and even ten times. The auction began before I could finish learning them all.

  The races of the slaves that appeared on the stage varied from human to demi-human to therianthrope. The slaves were divided up into a range of categories—children, adults, the elderly, men, women, etc.—and even minute details, such as lineage, seemed to be treated as part of the product package. On top of that, a detailed introduction included things like place of birth, level, and aptitude for magic.

  “Our next slave here has won seven out of ten fights in the coliseum.”

  A rather well-built slave was standing in the spotlight.

  “A coliseum record? So he’s a mercenary?”

  That wasn’t a very impressive fight record. Just a bit above average, maybe.

  “Yes sir. He amassed a sizable amount of debt and is participating in the coliseum as a slave in order to repay that debt.”

  “Ah . . .”

  I looked over at Raphtalia. She seemed to be looking over the slaves that were up on the stage.

  “Next up is the showpiece of tonight’s auction! A demi-human slave from Lurolona!”

  The spotlight suddenly moved to the next slave. That was the showpiece? The slave looked like a demi-human child and seemed to be trembling ever so slightly.

  “No.”

  Raphtalia shook her head.

  “There was no such child in my village. One of the children did look similar, but that’s not her.”

  “So it’s a fake . . .”

  No one could tell the difference, anyway. Lurolona slaves were the hot item, so you could just dress it up as that. If you managed to fetch a hefty sum for it, that would be the end of it, even if they did find out otherwise afterward.

  “We’ll start the bidding at 20 gold pieces!”

  Twenty gold?! That high?!

  “Twenty-five gold!”

  “Thirty gold!”

  The price continued to surge. I knew prices were up, but come on! And for a fake?! Even if we did find the real thing, there was no way I would be able to afford it.

  “Fehhh . . .”

  “Mr . . . Naofumi? I think your face is probably even paler than mine.”

  “Uhhh . . . yeah . . .”

  It got worse. The dud slave currently being bid on was considerably emaciated. We could try waiting until the trend had run its course and prices dropped, but if they were all in this kind of shape then the real Lurolona slaves might very well be dead by then.

  But wait, this slave might have received special care thanks to the price surge, and yet it still looked frail. It wasn’t unthinkable that one of the real ones might be treated carelessly and end up dead. Not to mention, it was highly likely that they had been abused, considering the condition that Raphtalia, Keel, and the other slaves had been in.

  In all honesty, the situation looked really bad. We probably needed to recover the slaves as quickly as possible. But damn . . . Solving this problem with the money we had just wasn’t realistic, and the queen of Melromarc made it clear that providing monetary aid wouldn’t be possible at the moment. With the reconstruction efforts after such extensive damage, the funds just weren’t there.

  “Even if we can tell the real ones apart from the fakes . . . this . . .”

  The thought of giving up crossed my mind, but Raphtalia and Raph-chan were both looking at me expectantly. I couldn’t say no to those eyes.

  “We need to figure out a way to make some quick money and buy up the slaves fast.”

  Should we buy them one at a time using the money we made from peddling? No, that would take too long. Besides, the amount of money we needed was on a completely different level. We’d also needed to be here at the underground auctions every night to look for the real slaves, and even if we went the route of negotiating with the merchants that purchased them, we would need to prepare enough money to match the purchasing price at the bare minimum.

  Maybe I could take advantage of my position as the Shield Hero? No, that wouldn’t work. The prices were already skyrocketing. If news spread that someone famous wanted the slaves, prices would surge even higher. Perhaps we should break into the homes of the merchants that bought them and confiscate the slaves? That wouldn’t work, either. The slave curse could be set to kill, so that was too dangerous. What about crashing the bubble by spreading nasty rumors about the Lurolona slaves? That would take too long even if it did work.

  I could go crying for help to the demi-human country of Siltvelt, or maybe Shieldfreeden, and have them purchase the slaves on my behalf. That would be a last resort, though. I wanted to avoid it if at all possible. They might end up holding the demi-human slaves ransom and force me to go to Siltvelt. I was in the middle of preparing for the next wave. The risk of getting caught up in some kind of mess with Siltvelt was just too high. Even worse, we might get caught up in some kind of big conspiracy that affected Raphtalia and the others, too.

  I needed to make a ridiculous amount of money, and I needed to do it fast. Surely there had to be a way. We were in Zeltoble—the country of mercenaries and merchants . . . and underground auctions. Now that I thought about it, the slave trader had been whispering something about making money just a second ago.

  “Hey, slave trader.”

  “What is it? Yes sir.”

  “How much money can you make fighting in the coliseum?”

  We may have been temporarily weakened at the moment, but we were still a lot stronger than your average adventurer, knight, or warrior. I could conceal my identity as a hero and participate in a coliseum fight that allowed betting. Then, if I bet on myself . . . This wasn’t horse racing, but it would be like betting on a horse with 100 to 1 odds and winning.

  “Payouts range from extravagant to insignificant. Yes sir.”

  “I’m interested in that extravagant. If we concealed our true identities and fought in a coliseum that allowed betting . . . Let’s say we managed to win in the most dangerous one. Could we make enough money to buy the slaves at these inflated prices?”

  “Hold on just a moment. Yes sir.”

  The slave trader began whispering back and forth with his uncle. A few moments later . . .

  “It’s not impossible. That said, I can’t guarantee you will make it out alive. It’s quite likely to prove rather dangerous.”

  “Hmph . . . I’m not worried about that.”

  I mean, come on. If we were talking about a risk of death, that’s something we had faced countless times, and we were still here. I’d fought against the waves, against conspiracy, and against religion. I’d fought against the Spirit Tortoise, and I’d even fought in another world. I had been on the verge of death time and again, and that wasn’t going to stop any time soon. If that was the only problem, then I’d face that risk again fighting in the coliseum for the sake of Raphtalia’s village.

  “. . .”

  Raphtalia looked at me with a mix of expectation and apprehension on her face. Raph-chan was doing the same. Rishia was panicking over what my decision would be, and Filo had her head cocked to the side as if she had no idea what was going on.

  “Don’t worry, Raphtalia. I’ll get your friends back, no matter what.”

  “Mr. Naofumi . . .”

  Raphtalia’s expression transformed into one of relief upon hearing my words. I knew this kind of behavior didn’t really fit my image, but I had plenty of reason to do this for Raphtalia.

  “That said, the price
s of the slaves have skyrocketed, and we don’t have enough money to buy them right now. I can’t say I like the thought of doing this, but we’ll just have to buy Raphtalia’s friends with money earned by fighting in the coliseum. I’m sorry it has to be dirty money, but it’s the only way.”

  Raphtalia nodded decisively. And so it was settled—we would use the slave trader’s connections to take up the gauntlet and fight in the vicious coliseum.

  Chapter Eleven: Slave Hunters

  Before anything else, we needed to get the money for the wager. When it came to betting, the more money you could wager, the better. Also, if they figured out that I was the Shield Hero, the amount we could make would plummet. That said, I had to get the capital we would need to wager to win it all in one stroke . . .

  I considered raising money by offering express transportation to Melromarc using my portal. That was one way to make money in an online game that I had played once. A one-way trip between Melromarc and Zeltoble took two weeks, so there were sure to be people who would jump on the chance to be able to make that same trip instantaneously.

  The problem was pricing. Even if people were willing to spend more, you’d probably be lucky to charge somewhere between one and five gold pieces for the fare. Generating positive word of mouth would also be important for getting customers. Smuggling could end up being a problem, but that could be solved by working with whoever was responsible for inspections in Melromarc. Still, making money doing something like that would draw far too much attention. Another issue was only being able to send six people each hour. I wanted to avoid going that route, if possible.

  We returned to the slave trader’s underground market. I shook my head slowly at a worried-looking Rishia.

  “What’s up?”

  “Fehh . . .”

  “Relax, Rishia. I don’t plan on making you fight.”

  “Hmm . . .”

  I wasn’t sure if it was just poor air circulation or what, but Filo seemed to be less energetic than usual.

  “Even if we tried making money by placing some of the stuff we got from Kizuna’s world on the black market, doing so in an efficient manner would take time.”