Elodie rolled her eyes hard at Frondier’s words.
In the end, she was the first to speak, cautiously.
Her face a little flushed.
“You’re overreacting, aren’t you?”
By contrast, Frondier shook his head, his face amazingly composed.
He didn’t even seem to know what his own words implied.
“No. Judging by the capital’s mood, we can’t just let this slide.”
Judging from the statues and photos, the two loved by the goddesses were beauties. Their looks were certainly uncommon.
But comparing merely uncommon beauties to these four was far too much.
Elodie, whose sunset-colored hair and lake-like eyes were likened to a landscape.
Carla, whose looks were publicly certified on par with that Elodie.
Selena, the single assassin handpicked in Manggot to lure Frondier.
Riri, a demon of perfect allure who might as well be another name for Lilith.
Among the entire world, these four ran at the very top class of appearance, and there was no way humans merely selected in the capital could catch up.
'I’ve had that unease ever since before coming here.'
Before he met Carla, when he’d heard that Carla was as beautiful as Elodie, Frondier hadn’t believed it.
He’d thought such a thing simply couldn’t be, and at the same time had been surprised at himself for thinking so. He’d never thought about it before.
Only after hearing the rumors about Carla did he realize how he perceived Elodie. The odds of such looks appearing again were very, very slim.
Even so, Carla carried the tradition of Medusa from myth, so he could accept that much—but could a mere human, chosen by a goddess for being the prettiest in the capital, surpass these four?
'Unless a god literally reshapes her face... No, even then it might be hard.'
From the moment Frondier had that doubt, the result was as good as decided.
“Alright. Let’s move quickly. There’s no benefit in lots of people seeing your faces.”
After that, the group followed Carla’s lead to go get masks.
On the way, Frondier asked Carla,
“By the way, how do you know where to find masks?”
“...Up until just recently, I wasn’t doing anything I could be proud of.”
Carla, threatened by Antero, had gathered information about demons. She would have secured a way to hide herself.
After they’d walked a bit, Elodie—who had been hesitating—finally came close to Frondier.
“Frondier, is it really necessary?”
“What is?”
“The masks. Having to hide our faces... I just don’t like it.”
Frondier shook his head.
It seemed Elodie didn’t grasp the seriousness of the situation.
“Come to think of it, your first line of defense is mana detection. So you’re dull to this sort of thing?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look at Selena.”
At Frondier’s words, Elodie turned her eyes to Selena.
“......”
Selena’s face was taut with tension.
“S-Selena? Why are you like that?”
“...B-because the gazes are suffocating.”
True to a trained assassin, Selena didn’t dart her eyes around, but she could feel the passing people’s mood without having to.
Riri beside her looked a bit more relaxed, but she sympathized with Selena.
“This isn’t only the familiar gazes of simple favor or lust.”
“L-lust... Th-then what kind of gazes are they now?”
Elodie’s face reddened as she asked.
“How should I put it... Gazes of tremendous vigilance and suspicion.”
Carla answered there.
“I felt the same when I first came here. Somehow, there was this air of not accepting me.”
“Of course.”
Frondier nodded as if it were nothing special.
“See? Right now your looks aren’t just some nuisance ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) like a few men’s advances. In this capital, it’s a pretty serious issue.”
When it was just Carla alone, it might barely have been glossed over.
But when there are four of that level, it’s a different story.
Humans plainly more beautiful than the ones chosen by the goddesses. There’s no way they’d be accepted.
“So hurry up and put on masks and get out of this crisis.”
“...Okay.”
Elodie nodded, apparently convinced.
Her face was still red.
***
“Welcome.”
When they arrived at the place Carla led them to, the clerk greeted them politely.
'It’s more proper than I expected.'
Frondier looked around. Hearing they sold masks, he’d pictured a gloomy atmosphere, but it was just an ordinary shop. Only a bit worn.
'Come to think of it, I only had Queenie get me masks—I never knew through what channel they were obtained.'
As he looked around, Frondier wondered whether Queenie had gotten them in this way.
Of course, nothing on the display or shelves looked like the masks he knew.
Naturally so. Even if masks were useful in many ways, they were illegal goods. They wouldn’t leave them out in plain sight.
'Let’s not scratch the itch for nothing—leave this part to Carla.'
Understanding Frondier’s intent, Carla approached the clerk.
“Hello, Mr. Colin. It’s been a while.”
“The Principal of Atlas. You’ve come again.”
The clerk, called Colin, bowed his head.
Carla glanced around once. After confirming there were no customers besides Frondier and his companions—
“Colin, I need your help.”
Carla spoke in a more familiar tone.
Colin squinted at the others besides Carla, including Frondier.
“Ms. Carla, this is troubling. If you’d come alone, maybe—but bringing this many people...”
“Sorry. But it’s important. It’ll help you going forward, too.”
“Help me...?”
Colin sighed with a look that said, I’m sure it will, huh.
Carla spoke more firmly.
“Have you ever seen me lie?”
“I haven’t. That’s why this is troublesome.”
Saying that, Colin turned his back. He stood before an ordinary wall.
'Ooh.'
Frondier’s heart pounded.
Judging from the conversation, Carla had asked Colin for something secret. Something that shouldn’t be shown to others.
And Colin had gone to the blank wall. What came to Frondier’s mind immediately was a hidden passage.
'Like pressing a concealed switch nearby, or moving items in sequence and the wall goes shrrrk, opening up...?'
Frondier hoped—and his hope was only half right.
Crunch!
“...Huh?”
Frondier stared blankly at the sight.
Colin kicked the wall open, revealing the space behind it.
There was no special mechanism at all. It was just curious that a wall he’d thought was stone ripped like paper.
Behind it, as Frondier had expected, a secret passage appeared. Stairs leading downward.
With a plain face after tearing the wall, Colin turned his head again—this time toward Frondier.
“You there, the pitch-black leader.”
“...Huh?”
“I’ll allow only you to come along. The others can’t.”
Frondier blinked, then narrowed his brow.
“How did you know I’m the leader?”
His guard spiked for a moment. Did this man called Colin have the power to sense others’ strength or abilities? If it was just sensing strength, fine—but if his ability was exposed, that was bad.
Colin said,
“Don’t underestimate intuition honed as a merchant.”
“Intuition?”
“The people around you—no matter how they pretend otherwise—their attention is fixed on your position and situation. And you’re standing in a spot where you can block a sudden ambush at any time.”
The others widened their eyes as well. It was exactly as Colin said, but not something one would notice easily.
Colin waved his hand.
“Alright then, just you, sir.”
“...Just out of curiosity—what if I refuse? You’ve already shown me the secret passage.”
“Then I’ll bring down this shop and die with you.”
Scary words.
His tone had no rise or fall, so it was hard to tell whether it was bluster. Surely it was—but there was about a 1% chance he really would bring it down, Frondier thought.
“Okay. Everyone, wait here.”
Vasileo said,
“It’s dangerous, sir.”
“Who do you think I’m talking to?”
“Obviously to me. If you’re not here, I’m the one in danger.”
“...We’ll talk later.”
Leaving a warning that was a warning in name only, Frondier walked toward Colin.
Frondier, Colin, and Carla descended the underground stairs.
Contrary to the thought that another area would appear quickly, the stairs were quite long.
“It’s pretty deep.”
“Well, yes.”
“You wouldn’t call just any architect for a secret passage like this. And it makes even less sense to say you dug it alone.”
“Well, yes.”
“You’re not working alone.”
“Well, yes.”
Colin’s responses were flat. Frondier had thought he’d struck a pretty keen point.
Frondier tilted his head.
“Is this common knowledge? I wasted effort deducing it.”
“No. It’s something we’d prefer didn’t get found out.”
“...For that, you’re pretty calm.”
“I’m extremely shocked.”
Is he?
Judging by his face, it sounded like they were talking about the weather.
“But, pitch-black leader.”
“Who’s this pitch-black leader supposed to be?”
“Would you prefer ‘pitch-black, handsome leader’?”
“...No, that’s not it. Call me ‘Frondier.’”
“Understood.”
Colin nodded.
“Mr. Frondier, what’s your relationship with Ms. Carla?”
It seemed the “sir/leader” honorific wasn’t going to change.
“We’re coworkers.”
The Principal of Atlas and a teacher. Not wrong.
“If Ms. Carla is introducing me to you, you’re more than just coworkers.”
“We’re moving together for a greater cause.”
“...I see.”
Colin didn’t ask further.
After walking in silence, they saw a firmly closed door at the bottom of the stairs.
“As you’d expect, this place is secret to the general public.”
“Of course.”
Creak.
Colin opened the door.
In the small room were an antique table and chairs, and bookshelves lining the walls.
Once inside, there were sofas and chairs against the opposite wall, likely the seats for customers.
'...Small.'
That was Frondier’s first impression upon entering.
In an ordinary house, size wouldn’t matter either way, but right now he’d come down a considerable length of underground stairs.
'To make a room this small, did we really have to come this deep?'
The question arose, but he didn’t show it.
Colin sat in the chair before the table.
“You need masks, right?”
“How did you—ah, of course.”
“Yes. I have eyes too.”
Colin had also seen women like Carla and Elodie. Naturally, he immediately knew what was needed now.
“Providing masks isn’t hard.”
Colin rummaged under the table. When his hand came back up, it held a mask. Its shape was almost the same as what Frondier had seen on the continent of Falind.
He immediately stored it in the workshop to check the information, and saw at once that it was good-quality with no issues.
'I was worried about low-quality masks, but at this level there’s no problem at all.'
...However.
Frondier smirked inwardly.
'How noisy.'
Then Colin said,
“Did you know? All merchants are also information brokers—at least, the proper ones. No merchant these days fails to know that information is the most expensive commodity.”
“...I see.”
“So, if I take a fair price here and give you the masks, that completes the deal—but before that, I want to ask one thing.”
“What?”
“You seem quite sharp, Mr. Frondier.”
Colin glanced briefly at Carla. Carla tilted her head.
Colin looked back at Frondier.
“‘Frondier di Roach.’”
“...!”
Colin spoke Frondier’s full name.
When he heard the name Frondier, he realized he was the owner of that full name.
“I’d like to make one more deal.”
