The Youngest Prince Copies Skills with Skeleton Soldiers

Ch. 6



Chapter 06 - Rendezvous

Dusk Citadel, G-Sector.

As the surrounding sectors were filled with industrial complexes, it was a good place to acquire certain materials and to create certain things.

Customers looking for heavily modified firearms, cold weapons, and large, powerful armaments all flocked to G-Sector.

A single gun was cheaper than finding some quack sorcerer and having a few beginner spells taught at the risk of one's life.

The most important virtue needed in Dusk Citadel was the ability to defend oneself.

G-Sector, which provided the easiest solution to that, was bustling with people today as well.

The sound of grinding steel. The sound of a hammer striking a heated iron ingot. Voices growing louder as they haggled.

Various noises and sounds of life mixed into the crowd and disappeared.

As I walked to the outskirts.

The crowd, which had been so dense that shoulders brushed, thinned out and it became a little quieter.

Tinkle─

A bell announced a customer's arrival.

As always, a customer wearing a hood entered.

Reggie, the owner of the gun shop on the outskirts, stopped cleaning a gun barrel and grinned broadly.

An ordinary build and a calm atmosphere.

It looked like he could rip this customer off quite nicely.

“Welcome. This is the Revering Gun Shop. We buy, sell, modify, and repair. We can do anything you want.”

The inside of the gun shop was not that spacious.

It seemed even smaller due to the firearms that filled the outer walls.

From trumpet-shaped shotguns to hand cannons, crossbows, throwing bombs, and the most common weapon, the revolver.

Including a cannon that looked like it should be on a ship rather than in a shop, it seemed there was truly nothing this place didn't have.

Here, where the smell of gunpowder seemed to rise even if you just stood still, the owner Reggie rubbed his hands together.

“Well now, is there anything that catches your eye?”

The customer who had visited in the afternoon had not said a word until then.

Nevertheless, a merchant must diligently display his sales skills.

“If there isn’t, please pick one that’s at least similar. And if you just tell me your desired conditions, I will modify it as much as possible.”

Did the sales pitch work?

A voice came from within the customer’s hood.

“This weapon was made in-house at this shop.”

A strange voice, somewhat boyish yet low.

However, the customer's choice, which seemed so full of conviction, was even stranger than his tone of voice.

“Yes, yes! You have a good eye. That revolver is a masterpiece made right here in our shop.”

Clank─

The customer lifted the gloomy gray revolver.

“If you channel mana through the grip of that little fella, it flows into the cylinder and coats the surface of the bullet. When that happens─

“It’s less affected by the wind, increasing its range, accuracy, and destructive power.”

“Y-you know your stuff. You seem to have a very good eye for this industry. Haha.”

“Did you make it yourself?”

“Oh, of course. Me and my colleague made it.”

The hand holding the revolver slowly lowered.

“A lie.”

“…Pardon?”

The question continued.

“Can something the creator called a failure be a masterpiece?”

The corners of the owner’s mouth did not fall, though awkwardly.

“Hahaha. Didn’t I tell you earlier? The creators are me and my colleague, and this is a masterpiece guaranteed by our shop.”

“A second lie.”

The ear inside the hood twitched faintly.

The interior was dead silent compared to the outside.

There were only two people inside.

The distance was not too far for the half-blood of a Vampire Queen to hear the heartbeat of the remaining person.

“Your heart is beating faster and faster. Is there something bothering you?”

“Of course not. Our shop’s motto is conscience and honesty, credit and trust.”

“Hmm. A third lie.”

For someone who spewed lies without even breathing, his skills were quite poor.

Furthermore, his gun-making skills were probably far inferior to his shooting.

The firearm currently in my hand, a revolver incorporating so-called magitech, did not come from that man’s chubby hands.

It was not at the level I wanted either.

“The mana circuit is skillfully engraved inside, but it’s still crude. I can’t call it detailed at all.”

It was closer to an artifact, a level below the grand name of magitech.

Of course, it was clearly a sprout that would become a great tree.

But for now, it was nothing more than a seedling, let alone a great tree.

It was just that.

Haa.

A small sigh escaped from within the hood.

“I came too early.”

This meant that the time was too early to see the face of a Nation-Toppling Beauty.

Of course, it didn’t matter since I didn’t come here just to see a named character with a pretty face.

Thump-thump─

The half-blood’s heart in my chest beat erratically.

…Yes. That was the fourth lie.

In any case.

I put the failure of a piece, which I had lost interest in, back in its place.

“I came to eat an apple under the apple tree, but it’s still unripe.”

“This is a gun shop, though…?”

The owner Reggie scratched the back of his head and replied.

He couldn't lie, but his acting of being slow-witted was first-rate.

Thud─

I placed a heavy pouch in front of the owner.

“Still, it’s an apple tree that will be of help someday. I’ll leave some fertilizer.”

One last thing.

“Do you have a pen and paper?”

“Ah, here you go.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

I wrote a short note, folded it a couple of times, and placed it next to the pouch.

“Give this to the creator behind that door.”

Thump─!

The back door of the shop suddenly closed.

The gap in the door had been small enough for a single finger to fit through.

Someone who had been behind it was startled by the sudden mention and pushed the doorknob.

As expected of the lady of the West, she becomes quite clumsy outside the field of magitech.

“I will come again when you are ready.”

With a short farewell, the customer who came with the sound of a bell disappeared with the sound of a bell.

Creak─!

The closed back door opened again.

“Josephine…! I told you to stay in the back when there are customers.”

The girl with deep blue hair called Josephine rushed out and checked the paper.

The first sentence, written in a slightly trailing handwriting, caught her eye.

[To Josephine Blue Wisdom.]

Beneath her blue hair, her eyes, like a summer sky, shrank.

“…You know me.”

A voice as beautiful as a musical instrument.

But what that voice said was by no means beautiful.

“Damn it! Kio!”

When Reggie shouted, holding a hand cannon, a young man likewise rushed out from the back door, holding an axe.

BAANG─!

He kicked the shop door open.

But it was already too late.

The customer who had entered the shop moments ago was already gone, and chasing after him was a hopeless task.

Clank─

He closed the shop door.

The man called Kio spoke worriedly.

“Mr. Reggie. Do we have to move the shop? If a pursuer from the Wisdom family is on us….”

“…It’s a dangerous business. Damn it. The smuggling into the Citadel should have been perfect.”

“No. I don’t think it was someone sent from Wisdom.”

The great family of the West that symbolized pure magic. Josephine, the illegitimate daughter of Wisdom, said without taking her eyes off the letter.

The reason was right here.

“The handwriting in the letter. It’s definitely not a pure magician.”

Pure magicians were a breed who built their power based on the grimoires accumulated in the past and created grimoires to leave for the future, nurturing the next generation.

They were people who were sick and tired of holding a pen and writing.

“If a pure magician had written it, the handwriting would have been as regular as if written by a typewriter. It wouldn’t be this unruly either.”

And there was conclusive evidence.

Three heads gathered around the letter.

“You can see the letters on the left are slightly smudged. It means it was written with the left hand. All pure magicians are right-handed.”

Because the right hand was faster for using magic and concentrating mana.

There were no left-handers among the pure magicians of Wisdom.

And those fanatical magicians detested left-handers.

“The possibility of it being ghostwritten?”

“Even if they hired a ghostwriter, they wouldn’t hire a left-hander. The rigid thinking of Wisdom. I know that best, don't I?”

Reggie and Kio could not say any more.

The young lady before them was the illegitimate daughter of Wisdom.

While Wisdom valued magic, it looked down upon the new field of study that appeared with it, magitech.

In any case, the life of a half-blood in the family was to do only what they were told.

The dexterous girl found and nurtured her dream in magitech and fled to the East.

The smuggling experts she met in the process.

The three of them found a use for each other as soon as they met.

A blue lifeline that would never appear again before the two who wanted restoration and revenge.

The illegitimate daughter of Wisdom also needed these experts to establish herself in the East.

Thus, they set up a small gun shop in the G-Sector, filled with the sound of hammering, and were making a few items for practice.

With insufficient equipment, insufficient capital, and skills that were not up to par, failures were produced in droves.

They had hung them in the shop to make some money.

But then, someone who recognized the failures as failures appeared.

And most importantly, he had singled her out and left a letter.

Leaving behind a money pouch full of gold coins and his own short message.

“He wants to sponsor me.”

***

“Pant…! Pant…!”

The intelligence agent ran breathlessly and arrived at the carriage.

His master was already waiting, leaning against the carriage.

“You said a coachman must stay by his horses. Where have you been?”

Lubosch finally spoke, catching his breath.

“I-I had to relieve myself, so I went down for a moment.”

“Is that so? Well, we both took care of our business, so let's leave it at that.”

“I-it’s true…!”

“Alright, you punk. Am I going to check it myself?”

The Youngest Son chuckled and got into his seat.

The coachman got into the driver’s seat.

Originally, he should have been here first, but the plan had gone awry.

It had been that way since the moment the Youngest Son entered G-Sector.

‘He clearly entered the gun shop with a purpose. But the Young Master didn’t say much.’

The owner's lies. An apple tree. I'll come again.

Only these incomprehensible words were exchanged.

And he left a letter, which seemed to be the main business, and a money pouch, preventing any sound from being made.

‘The Young Master didn’t make a sound because he was conscious of me.’

Under that assumption, even after the Young Master left, he concentrated on the voices from the roof of the gun shop.

The result was surprising.

‘To think the illegitimate daughter of the Wisdom family was in there.’

Did the Young Master know that fact and make contact?

It was certain that he wanted something from that illegitimate daughter.

“Hmm…. How did he find the illegitimate daughter of Wisdom? Coincidence? Or a coincidence disguised as fate?”

“What are you muttering about?”

Lubosch’s shoulders trembled occasionally.

“…Y-you were awake. You had your eyes closed and were quiet, so I thought you had fallen asleep quickly since it was daytime.”

“To belittle a member of the vampire bloodline. I miss my mother.”

“O-of course not.”

The hands holding the reins flapped needlessly, as if to cover up the awkwardness.

The Youngest Son spoke from behind.

“Do you remember? The apple tree.”

“Yes. The Young Master said… no, I mean. I don’t know. Hahaha.”

“There’s no way you don’t know the apple tree. What is it that you don’t know? Tell me.”

“……”

The coachman’s complexion gradually turned pale.

I should stop teasing him here.

I had to give the intelligence department something to chew on, didn't I?

That would make it easier to use them.

“The illegitimate daughter of Wisdom. Now we have to see her without the background of Wisdom. She has practically defected to the East.”

“……”

Lubosch neither affirmed nor denied, quietly lifting his notebook.

I continued to throw bait.

“At first, I approached promising individuals to build a faction. But I saw fragments of magitech in their weapons.”

“Magitech…. Are you referring to that unexplored territory that engineering technicians have recently been jumping into?”

“Yes. Although it’s a field that Wisdom, which has one of the roots of magitech, extremely detests.”

“Then, Young Master, you must have recognized the presence of Wisdom from the delicacy of that magitech.”

I nodded my head.

It was a hassle to explain further, but human imagination filled in the blanks on its own.

“That's why I called it an apple tree. I thought that magitech had a way forward, and I plan to invest in it.”

“Ahh! So the money pouch too…! Oof….”

“…You’re not an intelligence agent, are you?”

“I am…! No, I’m not!”

I sighed faintly and leaned back.

Right. What kind of high-level personnel would be invested in the Youngest Son?

They probably sent a rookie to get some experience.

Or that Head Maid, Mirea, deliberately attached this guy.

Lubosch broke the silence and asked cautiously.

“Then, Young Master, do you plan to keep watering that apple tree?”

“Now you’re asking outright. Next you’ll be asking to submit the report for me.”

“I-I was just curious….”

The coachman flinched once more.

I smiled faintly and looked out the window.

“I have to keep giving it water.”

Then it would grow incomparably faster than the occasional rain from the sky.

Right now, the apple tree must be dumbfounded and bewildered, and suspicion will arise.

But suspicion is an illusion, and money is real.

Money only has value.

That value will surely transfer to the apple tree and yield sweet fruit.

I’m going to shower it with money.

With an amount too large to refuse.

“Um, Young Master….”

Lubosch glanced at me again and mumbled.

It was obvious what he was about to say.

“You’re wondering where I have the money?”

The coachman affirmed with silence.

“I have to start earning it now.”

I looked outside without erasing my smile.

Below the hill, in the private houses, raven skulls were hung on every fence.

It was a kind of superstition.

An attempt to hang on to even a faint hope, to avoid the wrath of the ‘Plague Demon’ that broke out every year.

The coachman must have noticed it too, as he sighed faintly and muttered.

“I wonder how many will die this time.”

The Plague Demon was a terrible thing born from the meeting of the East's negative energy and disease.

The diseases they carried were all different, and even if you exorcised them with spirit sorcery, the germs would just move to a nearby living creature.

There was practically no other way to get rid of it, but that was why it was a low point.

“Coachman. Would you buy a disease with money?”

“Haha. What kind of fool would buy a disease with money?”

“Really?”

The smile drawn on my lips deepened.

“I’ll show you.”


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