Kays Translations

Chapter 9: A Day of Shopping

―［Meluestat Jewelry Shop］―

“Welcome! How may we assist you today?”

As we stepped through the door, a sharply dressed, bald man in a suit immediately addressed us. He must have been both a guide and a bodyguard—the kind of person whose muscles threatened to burst the fabric of his jacket. Every sinew seemed deliberately carved, almost comically so, as he gave off an aura of controlled power.

“I’d like to sell something,” my mother said.

“Certainly, right this way,” he replied, bowing lightly before leading us toward the buyback counter.

Behind the counter stood an older gentleman with a neatly trimmed mustache. He acknowledged us with a polite nod, and his presence carried the calm authority of a seasoned jeweler.

“Welcome, young lady,” he said with a warm smile.

“Oh my, you’re very skilled,” my mother replied with a playful chuckle.

“Not at all, madam. I am, after all, a jeweler. I would never lie about a gem,” he said, his tone courteous and sincere.

“Well, that’s delightful to hear,” my mother murmured, pressing a hand gently to her cheek in shy pleasure.

Even though I knew it was just business charm, watching her be courted like this made me uncomfortable. It felt as if someone was flirting with her, and I didn’t like it one bit.

“I’d like to have these appraised,” she said, presenting a small box from my bag. Inside were a few pieces of honey gemstones, the smallest of our collection, each containing the remains of a few tiny ants.

“Ah… honey gemstones, is it?” the jeweler murmured.

“Yes, that’s right,” my mother confirmed.

She had once told me that honey gemstones weren’t particularly valuable individually, but they were rare and tricky to handle—a collector’s delicate delight.

“Indeed… with these, we could offer one silver coin each. Does that sound acceptable?” he said.

“…Isn’t that a bit low?” my mother asked.

“May I ask, young lady, are you familiar with how honey gemstones are typically displayed?”

“I’m not very interested in that sort of thing,” she admitted.

The jeweler proceeded to explain the collector’s art: small pebbles spread across a shallow dish to form a miniature landscape, with quartz and crystal columns standing in for trees or rocks. The honey gemstones would then be arranged as miniature treasures within this tiny world. Essentially, a gemstone diorama.

“Given their size, they can only ever be a minor part of a larger display,” he explained.

“So the more pieces there are, the higher the overall value?” my mother asked.

“Exactly. A larger quantity makes the display far more appealing,” he confirmed.

Ah, so even wealthy collectors buy in bulk to impress. Makes sense.

“Al,” my mother called softly.

“Yes?” I replied, and she gestured for me to place the remaining honey gemstones from my bag onto the counter, one by one.

“Here we go,” she said, and the jeweler opened each box carefully, inspecting their contents.

“Ah… I see, these were part of a collector’s set,” he remarked, clearly misinterpreting the situation.

My mother laughed lightly, concealing the truth. “Well, what do you think?”

The final piece was brought out—a grand, show-stopping honey gemstone.

“—?! This… this is remarkable. So this is the centerpiece. Indeed, this collection is already complete, isn’t it?”

He had completely misunderstood again. It wasn’t a prearranged collection at all—just something we had assembled haphazardly. Sorry, mister jeweler.

“How much will this fetch?” my mother asked.

“Well, for the smaller pieces, two silver coins each for fourteen items, totaling two gold and eight silver coins. The next size up, one silver coin each for six items, totaling two gold and four silver. The large ones, one gold each for three pieces, totaling three gold coins. And the massive centerpiece, eight gold coins. In total, sixteen gold and two silver coins.”

Wait, the smallest were initially offered at one silver coin each… apparently, having a complete set raises the value.

“…Sixteen gold coins and two silver?”

“As a completed set, how about seventeen gold coins in total?”

Seventeen gold coins… that’s more than three years of someone’s average income.

“Yes, let’s go with that,” my mother said.

With the honey gemstones sold, our next stop was the slave market.

―［Meluestat Slave Market］―

Upon entering, a chubby young clerk approached, eyeing Stefana and asking politely, “Here to sell?”

“No. I want two slaves to serve as bodyguards,” my mother said.

“Understood. Right this way,” he said, leading us to the negotiation room.

The room had an iron-barred enclosure in the center, with a locked door beyond.

“What kind of bodyguards are you looking for?” the clerk asked.

Stefana was a swordswoman, but being female, her strength was limited. My mother specified that the bodyguards needed to be capable fighters and experienced in gathering, since she sometimes required resource collection.

After noting the conditions, the clerk disappeared through the inner door to retrieve suitable candidates.

The room itself resembled a prison cell, though I couldn’t understand why it was so secure given the slaves already bore identifying marks. Stefana explained softly, “It’s to protect the slaves from buyers. Sometimes a buyer with a personal grudge might harm them.”

Apparently, even debt slaves could be at risk. That casual way of mentioning it made me uneasy.

Soon, the clerk returned with five slaves: two swordsmen, one spearman, one axeman, and a female hammer-wielding slave.

I wanted to reject the four men immediately. Their leering smiles upon seeing my mother were enough to put me on edge. The female slave, however, was still a child, making her unsuitable despite meeting other conditions.

“And her?” my mother asked.

“She’s a dwarf. She became an adventurer after she could no longer smith and reached C-rank. But after a string of failed requests, she couldn’t repay her debts and became a slave.”

Not a child, then. ‘As you can see’… well, I couldn’t really see much, but she was apparently a dwarf.

“And what can she do?” my mother asked.

“Well… she can gather materials, and as a dwarf who wields a hammer, she’s strong,” the clerk said, though his explanation was awkward.

“And why did she stop smithing?”

“Rugena, answer yourself.”

“Yes, my eyes got worse, so I couldn’t tell the state of the iron anymore,” she said.

Her failing eyesight explained her decline as a smith.

“And why did your adventurer missions fail?”

“Same reason. After C-rank, my eyes worsened further, so my attacks missed.”

Ah, that explained it.

“How’s your vision now?”

“Close-up is fine, but I can’t see far,” she admitted.

Near-sighted. Got it.

“Unfortunately, our priority is bodyguard capability,” my mother said.

“Understood,” Rugena replied, resignation in her tone.

“How much is she?”

“—?! She… costs ten gold coins.”

Ten gold for one slave? Cheap, considering her abilities are limited, but in this country, dwarves are rare.

“Does that mean she’ll be freed in twenty years?”

“Well, conditionally, fifty years,” the clerk added.

“What condition?”

“…Alcohol.”

Apparently, dwarves love drinking, but slaves couldn’t have alcohol. If we could provide it, the term would extend.

“How much would that be?”

“Well, ideally one mug… or one cup… maybe once a week,” Rugena said.

Daily would cost a gold per year if bought externally, but once a week made it far more manageable—around seven gold over fifty years. Making the alcohol ourselves would be feasible, and I had the know-how.

“Mother, I think this is fine. A reward for hard work, right?”

“…Understood. With that condition, you’ll become Arthur’s slave. Is that acceptable?”

She nudged me slightly forward like some miniature matchmaking ceremony.

“Yes. I haven’t done this before, but I can serve at night too,” Rugena said.

“Arthur is five years old. That… isn’t necessary,” my mother interjected.

Of course, the purpose wasn’t that. Still, Rugena was a valuable buy.

“And the second?” the clerk asked, eyeing the remaining four men.

My mother scanned them from head to toe but asked no questions.

“They’re no good. They lack self-control,” she decided.

The four men scowled at her verdict. Clearly, she was right. In the end, we gave up on a second purchase, leaving Rugena as my only bodyguard.

Back at the inn, the formal introductions were made.

―［Meluestat Inn］―

“I’m Arthur. Nice to meet you,” I said.

“I’m Rugena, the dwarf,” she replied.

Despite her childlike appearance, Rugena was sixty-five. With a dwarf lifespan of three centuries, she was roughly equivalent to a twenty-year-old human. She was short, had dusky skin, and her ears ended in sharp points, all classic dwarf traits.

After introductions, we discussed tomorrow’s schedule. Rugena would prepare her equipment and act as my bodyguard while my mother and Stefana went to the adventurer’s guild to meet contacts.

Well, then… time for me to focus on what I could do.

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