I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple-Chapter 200

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Episode 200

Actually, I had never met Raizen Badniker in person. When I was younger, before the blessing ceremony, I only played with children my own age.

The eldest son, the eldest daughter, the second son, the third son—there was enough of an age gap that our paths rarely crossed. Only a few, like Hector, bothered to seek me out and argue with me in person.

In any case, I had never seen Raizen, so I didn't know what he looked like. Thinking about it now, it felt strange. Despite being the third son, he held a significant place in the line of succession. Yet I had never encountered him at the main house.

"What kind of person is your master?" I asked as I followed the man in the wolf mask.

"Who knows? He isn't someone a minion like me can speak of..." Wolf replied in a complicated tone.

"Aish. Come on. It's just us here."

"I'm sorry." Wolf let out a faint laugh and said no more.

I had assumed his master would be resting backstage or in some separate room, but the place Wolf led me to was the highest seat.

So, there was a level above the black-grade seat I occupied. My seat had been nearly high enough to reach the ceiling, with dim lights above, which explained why I hadn't noticed.

"I've brought the guests, Master," Wolf announced.

"Oh! Thank you for your effort!" came an unexpectedly cheerful voice.

I saw a boy—or rather, a man—dressed rather frivolously. He was the same age as Hector but counted as the third son because he was a half-sibling. A trace of youthful innocence lingered, yet his physique was substantial. Even sitting, he seemed large; standing, he would likely tower over me by half a head.

"By the way, Wolf, your complexion looks terrible. Didn't you sleep well yesterday?"

"How could that be? I'm wearing a mask, after all..."

"Kuhahat! I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

The man's attire was ostentatious. His loosely draped clothing, along with his neck, shoulders, wrists, and waist—every spot that could be adorned—gleamed with gold jewelry. Women flanked him on both sides. The thick scent of alcohol clung to him, as if part of his persona, and his hair fell in a wild, untamed mess.

To describe him kindly, he resembled a rogue. Less kindly, he looked like the head of a criminal organization, the sort of boss from the Western underworld who fought turf wars. Yet his expression radiated a boyish cheer. His black hair, tanned skin, and eyes that mirrored mine struck with startling clarity.

Bluntly put, he displayed all the hallmarks of a Dark Fairy. He also bore a strong resemblance to the Iron-Blooded Lord. From the moment I met him, I was certain he was Raizen Badniker.

I tilted my head and asked, "Are you the master here?"

"Something like that. Want a drink?" Raizen smiled gently and held out a glass.

I shook my head. "I am a minor."

"Indeed!"

"Indeed?"

"So am I. Not an adult yet." Raizen chuckled, sipping his drink. "They say alcohol tastes different when you grow older. I'm trying it now while I still have a bit of youth left."

Was he crazy?

Even in such a brief meeting, his behavior screamed madness. Beyond that, I couldn't detect his mana. This meant one of two things: he was too weak for his mana to register, or he had a way to conceal it. Judging by the muscles visible beneath his shirt, the latter seemed certain.

I asked, "Can I call you Master too?"

"If you want." 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Then I will call you Merchant." I resumed my arrogant Luan persona, letting my condescension show. "Why summon me while I'm observing?"

I noticed the women glancing at me, likely reacting to my attitude.

Raizen merely smiled. "It's nothing. I heard a Black-grade client is sweeping up the goods, so I wanted to see your face. In business, you must know the faces of your best clients."

My face... Did he mean to take off my mask? Notably, Raizen himself wore none. Seeing the table empty of masks suggested he seldom used them.

Raizen continued, "I apologize if I offended you. As a gesture, if something interests you, pick it. I'll give it to you as a gift."

"For free?"

"Huh? Who gives gifts for money?"

That was true.

I stared at Raizen for a moment. Before coming here, I had wondered if the real mastermind was someone else and if Raizen was just a puppet on the surface. Seeing him now, such thoughts vanished.

He isn't an easy opponent.

Given the way the women treated him and the way Wolf just acted, he had undeniable charisma. Naturally, charisma alone couldn't run an auction house like this, but my suspicions grew. After all, the Iron-Blooded Lord had let a man like this walk free. That was interesting.

I smirked, pulled out the catalogue, flipped to the last page, and pointed to the final item. "Will you give me this?"

The corners of Raizen's lips dropped slightly. That subtle change shifted the atmosphere.

"Isn't that absurd?" he asked, tilting his head. "I think I've shown you goodwill, yet you act so rudely. Is there anything you like?"

"Everything, you bastard. And your hospitality sucks. If you want a person to enjoy themselves, bring a chair. My legs hurt," I snapped.

I heard a gasp behind me. It seemed to be from Haro.

Raizen laughed again. "I suppose I was a bit rude. You all, leave now."

He gently pushed the women around him. They departed with awkward smiles. One of them placed a chair in front of me before leaving. I sat down, then asked, "So, are you going to give it to me or not?"

"Do you even know what it is?"

I wiped the smirk from my face and met his gaze. "I know. How could I not?"

Somehow, I understood why this man would die in the future.

"Listen, Merchant. Some things you can handle, and some things you can't. Tell me, do you really think you can sell a demon?"

A sudden curiosity pricked at me. Did Raizen understand the weight of this question? That his life hung in the balance? The reaper waiting to kill him was already close.

Raizen fell silent.

***

On the last page of the catalogue stood a demon with goat horns. Its dark red skin and coarse fur framed sinister, horizontal pupils. A blood-stained club rested in its right hand, while its left gripped a human head frozen in despair and agony. The image was so vivid that it felt less like a drawing and more like the photograph Alec had shown me.

The lights dimmed again, and the host appeared on stage. It was not the man in the turtle mask this time but someone wearing an eagle mask. His name had to be Eagle, right? Regardless, the second part of the show seemed to have started earlier than expected.

In the low light, Raizen asked, "Do you know how many sacrifices it took to capture the demon?"

"I don't know. I'm not even curious," I replied. "There's only one thing that matters. No matter how much you want to expand your business, there are lines you must not cross. Possessing a demon is one of them. Don't you understand that?"

Are you a Badniker? I held back these words for the time being.

Judging by his attitude, he didn't recognize me. My different hair color from my siblings worked in my favor. Badnikers were marked by rare black hair and unusual purple eyes. Missing either trait made it hard to identify them.

Raizen said, "Business always involves risk."

"Even if it can kill you?"

"I'm used to risking my life ever since I left home."

I paused over his words. "I take it your family wasn't... ideal."

"Not really. They were wealthy, envied by others. The problem was that they tried to control my freedom."

"Freedom?" I echoed.

"I refuse to be anyone's tool."

I wondered if he meant the Iron-Blooded Lord. I studied him for a moment and then nodded. "You seem to have a solid mindset. It wouldn't have hurt if you ran your business fairly."

"Fair and unfair in business? That's nonsense."

"Merchants are never fully transparent. Those who claim to be usually are scammers. Still, there's a bottom line you cannot cross." I returned to the earlier point. I wasn't usually one to preach, but this felt necessary.

Raizen tilted his head. "Human rights or something? My merchandise has no such flaws."

"What do you mean?"

"They either consented or committed enough sins that slavery doesn't bother them. One or the other."

Around this time, the first slave appeared on the stage. He was a dwarf with a muscular build. From the shape of his muscles and the calluses on his fingers, he looked like a craftsman.

Eagle offered an explanation. The dwarf was said to come from the renowned Sandstorm Hill in the south.

Raizen spoke up. "Garred Silverfinger is a famous blacksmith from Sandstorm Hill, but he became a slave to gain access to high-quality metals. To become a skilled craftsman in any field, you need to know a lot, but materials cost a fortune."

"Did he sell himself?"

"Something like that," Raizen replied. "He was deep in debt and unable to repay it. That's how he fell into slavery. Still, his skills are guaranteed. He will likely be sold to a wealthy family and gain access to all the quality metal he wants. The clients have paid a high price and won't mistreat a slave of his caliber. They will treat him properly. This is our auction system. How does that sound?"

Raizen gestured with his chin, as if to add something.

I laughed immediately and contradicted him. "That's nonsense. If the system were truly that good, you'd formally request cooperation or mediation from the imperial family. I know your type well. It's always the shady ones lurking in the shadows. Shameless bastards."

Raizen touched his chin thoughtfully, then raised his hands in apparent resignation. "It seems hard to get you to understand. For one, you don't seem like a client."

At that moment, the atmosphere around me changed. People in animal masks crept in from every direction.

I knew they had been hiding, so I wasn't surprised.

Raizen ordered, "The auction still has a long way to go. Keep it quiet so you don't disturb the clients."

"Yes."

I faked anger and delivered a line I'd wanted to try for a long time. "Are you going to drink the punishment wine instead of the wine of honor?"

It was Raizen who had actually offered me a drink first, but I spoke those words without any deeper intention.

"What is the punishment wine, and what is the wine of honor?" he asked.

"The wine of honor is me, older brother," I said. "Even if you get beaten, you will still survive."

Raizen tilted his head at my sudden change in address. "Older brother?"

It felt natural to reveal my identity, so I removed my mask. Would he recognize me?

"Don't tell me..." His eyes trembled slightly as soon as he saw my face.

"Is this the first time we're meeting in person? Brother Raizen... can you recognize your youngest sibling?"

"Luan Badniker?"

At Raizen's words, an unexpected reaction rippled through the room. The masked figures flinched and whispered among themselves.

"Luan Badniker..."

"The Youngblood who resolved the demon king incident!"

"The Badnikers' Golden Fairy!"

The Badnikers' what?!

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