Chapter 71 - Ganesha

The next day, Aiden sat in the office with a grave expression until Noel tilted her head beside him and asked a question.

“Is something troubling you?”

“... No.”

Despite his answer, he actually had a great deal on his mind. Mostly because of the window that had appeared yesterday.

-System Log

▶ Target ‘Drakan’ regards you favorably. You may copy 1 skill!

▶ Target ‘Ganesha Aldebaran’ regards you favorably. You may copy 1 skill!

▶ Your successful progress triggers an additional event. Raise their affection even further!

Reading through those messages, he could hardly keep his expression from turning serious.

‘... Drakan?’

The word referred to a half-human, half-dragon. A hybrid of humans and dragons.

Considering that dragons generally boasted such divine authority that they were called divine beasts, a Drakan who inherited half that power would surely be formidable, even as a half-breed.

Why the speculative “would be”?

‘So they really did exist.’

While Ganesha was a special NPC who appeared only under certain conditions, this was outright “dummy data” that existed only in the lore. A being never seen in the actual game, whose true nature even Aiden did not fully understand.

He did have some information about them, but he had never even considered actually coming face-to-face with one. It was rather bewildering.

But still.

‘Isn’t this a win, anyway?’

It would have been another matter if such a being were hostile, but for now, it regarded him favorably. There was no reason to feel bad about that.

In fact, even if more unexpected things like this cropped up in the future, his stance would ultimately remain the same.

‘Aren’t they all just skill mines?’

Extremely positive thinking did wonders for one’s mental health.

Whatever the circumstances, the existence of such beings meant more skills to copy. He might even get a whole heap of powerful skills he hadn’t known existed.

What an incredible opportunity. It felt like receiving a surprise gift...

“...”

Ironically, though, more and more people seemed to be expressing considerable doubt about his mental health lately.

“... Aiden. Please stop making that face. It’s creepy.”

Indeed, that was precisely the sort of remark Dame Stella made the moment she saw his face after entering the room to deliver a report.

“A visitor from the Free Merchants’ Union is here. He requested a private meeting.”

“The Free Merchants’ Union?”

Noel tilted her head at the name.

It was, in effect, the continent’s central bank. Where money was concerned, one could safely call it the highest authority.

A sudden visit to military headquarters from such an organization was certainly unexpected.

“All right. I’ll get ready shortly.”

“No, Dame Noel. That’s not quite...”

An expression that plainly said she had no idea how to explain this crossed Stella’s face.

Given what she said next, that was understandable.

“He made it quite clear that he wished to see Aiden, not you.”

“...”

That was, quite plainly, tantamount to saying that they considered Aiden more important than Noel.

Both their faces twisted into strange expressions at once.

▣

Viscount Helmut rubbed his hands together nervously.

For a criminal and con man at heart, military headquarters was never going to be a comfortable place. It was less uncomfortable than a police station, but the people here were just as much the natural enemies of his kind.

‘A spokesman for the Free Merchants’ Union...’

He sighed inwardly as he rehearsed the “role” he had been assigned today.

The Merchant of Death who had hired him clearly wielded considerable influence even over the organization that served as the entire continent’s central bank.

The documents, official seal, and identification he had received were all genuine articles from the Union, verified time and again.

Compared to those intimidating “supplies,” the job itself was relatively simple.

‘Pull a con, no matter what...?’

With a dubious expression, he recalled the instructions he had heard.

His client had asked him to pull some sort of con on the husband of the Lionhearted. Its scale did not matter. The crux of the assignment was to “deceive” the man, one way or another.

He had no idea what the client hoped to accomplish, but the promised reward was something he desperately needed. He would simply do as he was told.

Eventually, as he waited quietly in the reception room, the target in question opened the door and strode inside.

‘... Thank goodness he looks a little vacant.’

Having sized the man up at a glance, Helmut spread a broad, fabricated smile across his face like a mask.

He had been on edge, half expecting the husband of the Lionhearted to radiate some tremendous aura. But wasn’t this just an ordinary man one could find anywhere?

“A pleasure, Mr. Helmut. I hear you contacted us about an investment opportunity.”

“Yes, Mr. Aiden Kellermain. A pleasure to meet you.”

The way he smiled amiably and took Helmut’s hand made him look like utterly innocent prey, no matter how one looked at it.

He was so unremarkable that Helmut could hardly understand how he had secured a place beside the Lionhearted...

“I’ve put all the relevant details in these documents. Please take your time reading them before you decide.”

Of course, that was beside the point. He still had a job to do.

As Helmut spoke with a beaming smile, Aiden calmly scanned the documents.

The most important part of a con was how guarded the target was. No matter how elaborate a lie might be, it meant nothing if the other person was already convinced it was a lie.

In that respect...

“Everything here has been verified. A liquor distribution venture for a premium winery...”

The banner of the “Free Merchants’ Union” he had brought with him was ideal for breaking down those defenses.

The moment he heard Aiden’s words, Helmut smiled in satisfaction.

There was nothing easier than a con backed by authority.

“But if this is such a sound investment, I wouldn’t think you needed to approach me out of all the people available. Someone marrying a soldier doesn’t exactly have an image associated with money. Though my wife does enjoy a drink.”

... That was certainly true.

“No. I came precisely because it was you.”

At that, Helmut cleared his throat and straightened up.

This was where it became important.

“We see your future potential, sir, and wish to propose a partnership. Our intention is to grow together with you.”

“I see.”

“Personally, I came because I’m more interested in you than in the Lionhearted herself.”

“Hmm—”

“Now, to explain the details—”

The flattery and detailed explanation of the contract continued, but Aiden’s face only grew more rigid as he listened.

Under ordinary circumstances, that would have been cause for concern. Helmut, however, was inwardly rejoicing.

‘He’s probably thinking exactly that.’

Something along the lines of, Who does he take me for, an idiot?

Despite the glossy packaging, anyone with a little intelligence would be able to see that they would bear the risk while Helmut reaped the rewards.

And that was precisely what Helmut wanted.

That was the key.

Once you made the target feel clever and filled them with confidence that they had you completely figured out, the rest was smooth sailing.

Anyone would grow suspicious if a complete stranger thrust an offer at them claiming it was all for their benefit. Such a stupid method would fool no one.

The best approach, then, was to plant the illusion that they had seen through his intentions.

And usually, clever people who saw someone trying to use them would try to turn that scheme to their own advantage.

They would maximize their own share and try to screw Helmut over instead.

In fact, the contract he had brought was perfectly designed to encourage that line of thinking.

And the moment their thoughts turned in that direction...

‘They fall into the trap.’

A trap that worked all the better the cleverer its victim was.

An idiot would never fall for it, but this fellow clearly had more brains than his appearance suggested.

‘Unfortunately for you, though...’

His problem was that he had happened to face Helmut, a seasoned veteran of this trade.

That was how the whole thing was structured. Whatever clever scheme this Aiden fellow came up with, as long as he signed, dozens of detailed plans were already in place to screw him over.

This method, in which the victim signed the contract and only realized once things were underway that the other party was cleverer than expected, boasted a nearly perfect success rate.

A trap built in layers of double and triple psychological warfare. Even seasoned operators who had encountered Helmut had fallen one after another to games structured this way.

“...”

Yet his target’s actions were playing out a little differently than Helmut had expected. Rather than immediately dismissing him as a fool and signing the contract, Aiden calmly flipped back to the first page.

It contained Helmut’s own background: the false identity the Free Merchants’ Union had prepared for this occasion.

“You originally worked on the production floor of a weapons manufacturer, I see. Over a decade under the master craftsman of a prestigious workshop. That’s quite an impressive background.”

“...”

Something felt wrong.

Most people who got this far would underestimate Helmut, adjust a few terms, and go straight to signing.

Still, putting that feeling aside for the moment, Helmut replied with the same amiable smile.

“... Indeed. My teacher taught me a great deal.”

“When did you last speak with your teacher? I’ve had some interest in that workshop myself.”

“We speak often.”

“Even now?”

“Yes. We’re quite close.”

“I see.”

With that, Aiden casually extended a hand.

When Helmut stared at it in confusion, wondering what this was about, Aiden shrugged.

“Oh, I mean that I’ll give it favorable consideration. This is just a gesture of goodwill.”

“...”

... Had he imagined it?

Had this fellow fallen for his methods after all?

Still uncertain, he extended his hand.

The other man clamped down on it as though seizing prey.

“...!”

His brows looked faintly weary.

But what lay settled beneath them...

“Your hands are soft.”

...was a festering blackness.

The kind unique to someone who had crossed the line between life and death time and again.

As though he had fallen victim to this sort of thing so often that he was sick of it.

As though he had dealt with men like Helmut, thoroughly, countless times.

“Working on the production floor wasn’t quite as hard as you expected, was it?”

“...”

As the man leaned his face closer and spoke, Helmut involuntarily found himself unable to breathe.

The man’s demeanor had not changed in the slightest from before.

“And you say you speak with the master craftsman often.”

With that very same demeanor...

“That master craftsman died last year.”

...he tore Helmut’s lies to shreds.

Helmut’s expression froze.

“It’s an incredibly famous workshop, isn’t it? You picked somewhere a little too well-known to lie about.”

“...”

“The quality of their goods has declined lately, too, and their prices have hit rock bottom. Who came up with this setup? They need to learn the basics of running a con.”

What he said was true. Technically.

... If only the workshop he was talking about weren’t practically on the opposite side of the continent.

Physical distance translated directly into scarcity of information. No matter how prestigious or renowned a place was, news from it was inevitably slow to arrive.

And yet...

Out of all the information in the world, he knew about this one workshop among countless others?

Just how extensive an intelligence network did he maintain?

“... W-well, that’s—”

“Con men who sell their pitches by the manual fall behind the times, Mr. Helmut. Experience is all well and good, but who’s going to fall for it when your fundamentals are broken? You can’t afford to neglect a single detail of information gathering.”

Aiden cut in with a yawn.

His voice was still bored, tired, and flat, without any emotional inflection.

But Helmut felt as though he had been stripped naked before this man.

Through one tiny flaw, the man had laid bare every move he had prepared.

“You have to study, research, and scrape together every last bit of information, every single day, to build any credibility. People are smart these days.”

“...”

And watching him speak so indifferently, Helmut immediately realized something.

His client had said this fellow was just an ordinary person.

Ordinary, his ass.

‘... This bastard isn’t just some skilled operator—!’

He could sense a fellow professional.

And not merely someone who had put considerable effort into this work, but someone far more accomplished than himself.

“And considering recent developments... there’s probably only one person who comes to mind who’d play this kind of prank on me.”

With that, Aiden sighed and dragged a hand down his face.

“Merchant of Death. You’re listening to this somewhere, aren’t you?”

“...”

“You were playing games with me just the other day, too. What is this? How disappointing.”