Demon King of the Royal Class

Chapter 12

I only found out later on that Aligard district’s shopping street had a notorious reputation among adventurers. The shop owners were known for pushing their products almost to the point of coercion, offering no refunds, and they were unscrupulous merchants who marked up prices from several times to tens of times the regular price.

Despite all that, it was the largest shopping district in the imperial capital and often the only place where adventurers could find most of the items they needed. It was highly infamous, but it was a place you couldn’t avoid.

‘What the—? This place is just like the old Yongsan Electronics Market. It’s just a fantasy version of Yongsan.’

Newbie adventurers were often more afraid of this place than the dungeons. Many who came here looking for supplies ended up getting swindled so badly that they had to give up on being adventurers, leading to strange cases where they ended up with less money than they started with. They were just victims who had gone from being high schoolers getting their allowance money taken to novice adventurers.

‘Is this what PTSD feels like?’

I had a flashback to my old high school days when I was bullied and had my lunch money taken away, and immediately I felt drained.

‘Hey, you, the guy who ripped me off by forcing me to buy your stupid MP3 player, do you remember me? Well, I hope you do because you traumatized me, and so I wish that you’re living your best life, at least.’

I had to stay calm.

I had to find a normal magical items store among all these crooked salesmen to sell my scrolls.

What had at first seemed like an easy task was now bordering on the impossible. It felt completely unachievable. Just the fact that this place was Yongsan was enough to make me feel that way.

There were numerous shops like weapon stores, armor shops, and tool stores, but I was looking for the magical items store. Magical items stores were, in essence, places where heaps of money were exchanged.

“What are you doing here? Stop fiddling around and get out of here.”

Most of the shops wouldn’t even let me in, perhaps because the store owners thought I might cast a scroll by accidentally fiddling with it. I definitely didn’t look the part of an adventurer, so that didn’t help either.

Now that I thought about it, the owner of the first shop that actually allowed me to enter was actually a nice person.

Although the reaction of most store owners was less than welcoming, and most found it somewhat odd for me to enter, some shops did allow me in.

The merchant, upon seeing the scroll I unfolded to sell, furrowed their brows and said, “...What’s this? You want to sell this for money? You look like a kid, so don’t try to pull a fast one. Well, maybe I can give you two coppers for it.”

‘What? Are these sellers teaming up to rip people off like this? I thought they would at least give me one gold coin, but it seems they have no conscience whatsoever.’

I didn’t bother responding and just took my scroll and left. These swindlers were not worth engaging with.

However, I got a similar response from the next shop.

“Heh, what’s this? This is the first time I’ve seen someone trying to pull off a scam like this in my life. Get lost!”

Some people even chased me away, looking at my scrolls as if they were a dreadful omen.

After experiencing rejection three times, I could sense that something was going on.

They thought I was a scammer?

The next few shops were no different; they told me to leave with bizarre claims.

“What do you take the merchants on this street for? Do you think there are people who will fall for your scrolls?”

.

.

“Rather than using your drawing skills to pursue such strange activities, why not just learn to draw properly, kid?”

While I received some responses that were somewhat polite, the message still remained the same: “Get lost.”

They seemed to view me as a crazy person trying to scam them with fake scrolls. Something peculiar was happening, something that went against all the predictions I made using the Scribe’s Advice.

Did they think my offered scroll was fake just because I looked young? Did they think the scroll was a mere replica that was similar only in appearance?

I could demonstrate that they were real magic scrolls, but it would mean using up one scroll. I couldn’t afford to lose my capital in such a way. Besides, even if I proved to them that the scrolls were real, they would not be willing to buy them anyway.

The next place I visited was even more challenging.

“Oo... what do we have here?”

The shopkeeper examined the scroll I handed over and his eyes lit up. I wondered if he might be the first one who could recognize its value without prejudice.

To be honest, I was getting tired and wouldn’t have minded selling it for a reasonable price, even if it meant I had to sell it at a substantial discount.

However, the man suddenly rummaged through something and pulled out another scroll.

“Hey, try drawing this one as well. Just like the one you brought.”

He had recognized some kind of value.

“It’s five silver coins per piece if you copy it exactly. How does that sound?”

The problem was, he’d found value in me and not the scroll. He appeared to have a big misunderstanding, and was intending to mass-produce fake scrolls through my drawing skills and sell them for a profit. The shopkeeper’s demonic scheme was so evil that it sent shivers down my spine.

Even though the shopkeeper claimed he had no interest, he continued to negotiate with me and raised the price, eventually offering a substantial one gold per drawing.

This was getting ridiculous.

“Ah, come on! Fine, let’s make it a deal. We’ll split the profit! Okay? You’ll be able to earn a lot of money. Ugh... You young folks are already so greedy.”

I was tempted to give in for such a high share, but I couldn’t because it wasn’t my drawing! The way this guy was trying to exploit a talent that I didn’t even possess was simply mind-boggling.

If one’s audacity reached this point, it was only appropriate to seek retribution.

A scroll was supposed to be used in emergencies, so if it was just a fake drawing, the person who possessed it might end up dead in a desperate situation!

Playing games with people’s lives? This guy was the definition of evil.

At last, I let out a sigh and nodded.

“Okay. So you want me to draw something exactly the same as this by tomorrow, right?” I asked.

The intricate geometrical shapes were quite a challenge to reproduce on the spot.

“Oh, oh! Yes! Yes! By tomorrow, you say?”

“It might take me all night, but I’ll give it a try.”

“Great! That’s fine! I’ll pay you as soon as you bring it to me. We’ll even split the profit fifty-fifty! You know, that’s how we do business, right, pal?”

He was definitely a person who would say that it hadn’t been sold even if it actually had been and keep all the profit to himself.

I left the shop, carrying the scroll the merchant had given me.

—Looks like you’ve found a way to make some big money, kid!

I couldn’t help but sigh at the voice behind me.

What was it about him? Couldn’t he use all that greed and energy toward thinking of a wholesome way to make money? Did his greed blind him so much that he could only see what was right in front of him?

Anyway, I got a Fireball scroll for free.

***

After coming to the shopping street with the intent to sell scrolls, I’d unexpectedly acquired one. The fireball spell, which was treated as a basic spell in other s, was a rather potent offensive spell in this world.

Why would a fireball causing massive explosions right in front of your eyes even be a basic spell? I was known for not caring about historical accuracy, but I did have some stubbornness when it came to my s.

The Fireball scroll was bothering me. Frankly, I never really gave this aspect much thought.

Were you allowed to just carry a fireball scroll around like this? Shouldn’t it be legally restricted? It was like selling rocket launchers on the street.

This was the fantasy version of an overpowered magic wand, wasn’t it?

Medieval fantasy would be a dreamland for terrorists.

I never thought about it while I’d been writing the because there didn’t seem to be much concern or need for regulations on buying and selling scrolls, or when it came to using scrolls.

However, now that I was inside it, it all seemed too sloppy.

Of course, I didn’t create the Gradias Empire’s legal system when I described the Gradias Empire. But there must be an extensive body of laws somewhere out there.

This was risky...

It seemed like people perceived my scroll as a fake.

Perhaps it was because an inexperienced youngster was carrying it around, thinking that it would never be taken seriously. Or maybe there was some other reason.

Once again, I found myself aimlessly wandering through the bustling streets of vendors, searching for another magical items store, partly wanting to confirm if there was actually an issue with my scrolls.

“Um... a customer I suppose?”

At another scroll shop, the store owner lifted her head groggily from a table. She seemed like she’d just woken up from a nap and didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic about doing business at all.

“I came to sell magic scrolls.”

“Oh? You’re selling scrolls? You?”

“Yes.”

I presented the fireball scroll to her. She unfolded the scroll, scanned it with her eyes, and then squinted and hit me on the head.

Thump!

“Ouch! Why’d you hit me?”

“It’s dangerous for a kid like you to carry something like this around.”

She seemed unimpressed and shook her head as if she couldn’t stand it.

“I don’t usually buy these, but if you insist on carrying it around, I’ll buy it off you just so you can’t carry it around anymore.”

With that somewhat begrudging statement, it was clear she had a typical street vendor’s attitude, ready to rip me off.

“Four gold. Even if you say you’ve changed your mind, it’s no use now. I can’t give this back to you.”

I’d ended up with a much larger sum than I had initially anticipated.

“Uh...”

“I won’t ask where you got it, but if you’re caught with something like this again, you’ll be in trouble. Got it? I remember your face, kid.”

This wasn’t the typical street vendor trying to profit obscenely off a sale; rather, it was a vendor who forcefully bought things from customers.

It was time for me to change the inner label for this person in front of me. It instantly went from “rotten street vendor” to “kind and beautiful shopkeeper.”

In reality, she was incredibly attractive.

The shopkeeper let out a deep sigh.

“Ah, young people. They don’t know how dangerous magic can be.”

It seemed she had genuinely bought the scroll from me due to the apparent danger of it.

In any case, all that was important was that I now had some money.

“Thank you.”

I bowed my head in gratitude and attempted to leave the shop. With this newfound wealth, I could afford to buy something to eat, and I had to be cautious not to lose or have it stolen.

My mind was a jumble of thoughts.

The shopkeeper called out to me. “Just a moment. You, come here.”

She motioned for me to come over in a rather languid fashion. Despite her gesture, though, she stood up from the counter and walked over to me.

“Why are you carrying a scroll book with you? Show me all of it.”

It seemed like something had gone wrong.

“Uh, well...”

She seemed to be contemplating taking away all my dangerous scrolls.

After dragging me to a chair, she confiscated my scroll book.

“Seems like you picked up something someone dropped, huh? And you have no intention of returning it to its rightful owner; in fact, you’re thinking of selling it. You naughty kid. You need a good scolding.”

She clicked her tongue as if disappointed in the state of the younger generation.

She appeared convinced that I couldn’t have acquired this myself. Frankly, I would have thought the same.

She took out a scroll and examined it, then frowned in confusion.

“...What is this?”

Seemingly bewildered, she went over to the counter and unfurled the scroll I had sold her, the fireball scroll.

“...This one is genuine.”

Only then did I have a hunch that there was a definite reason behind the countless merchants treating me like a swindler.

The shopkeeper slowly unfolded each of my scrolls and gradually fell silent.

Then the woman, who was sitting beside me, put her arm around my shoulder in a kindly fashion.

“Dear?”

Well, I might have become a bit younger, but I wasn’t quite in the “dear” category.

Her voice was exceptionally gentle.

“...Yes, ma’am?”

“I need you to be honest with me.”

Her tone held a probing intensity, as if she were delving into my very soul.

“Where did you get all these scrolls?”

“Um... Well...”

“These are magical spells used by Demons. So why on earth do you possess them?”

Scribe’s Advice usually brought both good and bad results.

I clearly understood what that meant now.