Chapter 20: Cliché (2)
Chapter 20: Cliché (2)
Despite receiving a substantial sum from Miss Rubia, I had not invested in artifacts for a simple reason.
Artifacts aren’t items you can just obtain by seeking them out.
Of course, one could easily purchase any item enchanted with magic if they have the money.
Take me, for example, I’m wearing a robe enhanced with various functions like defense and temperature regulation.
After Lien and Siel both took a liking to the robe we wore last time, I acquired one of a similar design.
However, such garments are not classified as artifacts.
The reason is straightforward.
A magician has merely enchanted an ordinary object, which does not possess the innate ability to conjure magic.
True artifacts are imbued with mystique, capable of wielding magic independently.
And naturally, such artifacts are monopolized by the empire.
Merely trading them is considered a serious crime.
In games, players could relatively easily acquire such artifacts.
By playing multiple rounds.
After clearing the game once, you could simply use the currency obtained from deleting that character to craft whatever you desired.
‘...But how on earth am I supposed to do that now?’
As a result, the sources for artifacts are inevitably scarce.
In such circumstances, the black market becomes a rare source of artifacts, like rain in a drought.
Therefore, for someone like me, who needs to grow stronger, it was a place I had to visit at least once.
‘Besides, even setting artifacts aside, I might meet a good character there.’
There are many characters who, once slaves, now support the protagonist.
With some luck... I might even find a decent companion there.
But the problem is, not just anyone can enter the black market.
You can’t just buy your way into the black market with money.
‘I don’t want to miss this opportunity, as I would have to wait another six months if I do.’
Over the past two days, I’ve been learning various basic spells from Siel and receiving physical combat training from Lien, amidst other preparations.
But honestly, I couldn’t see any way Miss Rubia could secure the entry tickets in time.
The black market opens tomorrow. We need those tickets by today at the latest.
Realistically, acquiring such items in just two days is no easy feat.
So, I thought we might have to give up on this venture, but then...
“...Huff. Haah.”
In the midst of training with Siel, a panting Rubia appeared before me.
She must have run so desperately that her usual red bun hair was a complete mess.
Her clothes were drenched, revealing more than intended, and I had to consciously avert my eyes.
“I got it!”
What she meant by ‘got it’ was clear without asking.
In Miss Rubia’s hand was a ticket, the kind that had appeared in previous work, complete with a golden border.
That’s a VIP-exclusive entry ticket.
Essential for participating in the exclusive auction.
‘How on earth did she manage to get that?’
I had to reassess Rubia’s capabilities.
It seemed obvious in hindsight. I had wondered how someone who seemed to give away too much to others, seemingly to their own detriment, could succeed in business.
“I just can’t seem to keep up...”
A white-haired man reading a newspaper muttered to himself.
Out of boredom and curiosity, I asked him what he meant.
“The world is changing too fast. It’s overwhelming for an old man like me.”
With those words, the gentleman passed the newspaper to me.
It contained a story about the Black Fangs.
Of course, being the empire’s news, the Black Fangs were depicted as deranged psychopathic murderers.
But knowing what I do from the original work, if you sift through for the facts, it hinted at the beginnings of an anti-imperial movement starting with the Black Fangs.
“I just hope we don’t get caught up in some senseless conflict...”
The old man sighed as he said this, as if lamenting the unintended consequences often suffered by bystanders like us.
...For some reason, his words struck a chord with me.
This train is a symbol of noble authority.
If there were an anti-imperial organization, this train would undoubtedly be a target.
Moreover...
‘This is such a cliché.’
A sense of unease washed over me.
Terrorist attacks are almost expected on trains in stories.
In fact, it would be more surprising if a train-related plot didn’t involve some sort of attack.
In such a situation, was it really just a coincidence that the old man brought up such ominous talk out of the blue?
“Lien, Siel. Just to be safe, don’t let your guard down.”
With those words, I kept a vigilant watch over our surroundings.
Come to think of it, the train was eerily quiet.
It was like the calm before a storm, as if something was about to happen.
A sinister premonition crept over me.
A feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.
And then... an explosion sounded.
It started in the compartment in front of us. The train began to shake wildly, derailing...
-Thank you for choosing our train. We wish all passengers a comfortable journey...
Instead, the soothing voice of the announcement filled the air.
We arrived at our destination comfortably.
I avoided Lien’s puzzled gaze and scratched the back of my neck.
‘That’s really strange.’
My intuition is usually spot on.
But lately, it seems I’ve been barking up the wrong tree.
I was sure I had a feeling. An intuition that there were suspicious people on board.
But... what can I do when reality says otherwise?
Maybe I need to stop overestimating my gut feelings.
‘After all, a cliché is just a cliché.’
When you think about it, it’s obvious.
The idea that a terrorist organization would be on the same train as me is just as unrealistic as it sounds, isn’t it?
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