Chapter 487: Nameless, Cityless, Homeless

Mercury shifted the coin pouch to his right hand and hefted it.

"Your Excellency is probably wondering who I am."

"That wouldn't be hard to find out."

"Without the hat, my face is in the directories of every chamber of commerce across the Western Continent."

He took off his wide-brimmed hat, revealing an utterly forgettable face.

It was a face born to slip from memory the moment you looked away. He was of average height, with a small patch of gray at his temples and heavy, deep-set eyes.

"Genoa, 11 San Lorenzo Street, second floor. The doorplate reads 'Transit and Insurance.'"

"If you ever need to find me, just give that address. Anyone can lead you right to my door."

"...You're just giving it out?" Richard looked at him, unable to gauge his intent.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Mercury was entirely candid.

"If any of you show up tomorrow, I'll still treat you to coffee. If we strike a deal, great. If not, there's no need to sour the mood."

He spun the hat a half-turn on his fingertip.

"Besides, if anyone really wanted to touch me on San Lorenzo Street, they'd have to ask the other seven families on that block if they'll allow it."

Richard gripped his staff, spreading a layer of Still Water in that direction.

The man had nothing hidden on him. His ether was thick and even, yielding no flaws to read. He was a veteran Minor Adept as well.

"I've heard a bit about your affairs this past year."

Mercury put his hat back on.

"Appraisals, transfers, buying up Ether Condensate... Word is your prices are quite fair."

"You've done well... just on a rather small scale."

He raised a hand and began counting off on his fingers.

"This February, the saltpeter from the New Continent.

"You're a Scholar; you probably know that without saltpeter, there is no gunpowder.

"Every ounce of saltpeter for the Western Continent has to be shipped around Cape Horn. That's a three-month voyage per ship."

"Of that batch this year, I booked the holds for six of those ships."

"And then there's Rotterdam."

"I recall that being a neutral country."

"Precisely because it is neutral, its docks are the busiest."

Mercury smiled.

"Your Excellency, in business there is an old saying: when a war breaks out, the one standing in the middle makes the most money."

"Coffee, rubber, copper, machine tools, developing fluid... everything passes through."

"Just last month, at a neutral port, I handled a batch of steel cylinders for a client. Seamless, brass valves, lead linings."

Richard's grip on his staff tightened.

That remark might have been dropped casually, but he wasn't the only one in the City of Seven Hills who understood what it meant.

Anyone in the know was well aware that this was the promotion ritual for a newly advanced Virtuoso in Germania.

The man's true identity was one of the largest middlemen and arms dealers on the Apennine Peninsula, likely invited here out of respect.

But looking at it now, he maintained a noncommittal, arm's-length attitude toward the entire Roman table.

Yet neutrality was exactly the stance a merchant and an emissary ought to take. Richard, by contrast, fell far short in that regard.

"Back to the point."

Mercury raised the Caduceus in his hand.

"Messaging, border-crossing, Ferrying—I can do all three of the things you manage.

"But ultimately, an emissary manages exchange. Without exchange, there are no trade routes, and without trade routes, there are no messengers.

"The gods send people to pass messages because even gods need to trade with mortals."

"So I am the complete one."

Richard also handled appraisals, transfers, and collected condensate. If he needed to show his credentials, he could.

But laying them out would only reveal a young man who had just recently set up his stall, trying to compare wealth and channels with an old merchant accustomed to sitting behind the counter.

Mercury had likely realized this as well.

"How old are you, Your Excellency?"

"I'll turn eighteen after this summer."

"...Ah."

Mercury shook his head.

"At my age, competing with you over this... even I'd find it ugly if word got out."

The City of Seven Hills fell quiet for a moment.

"You are right, sir," Richard said.

Mercury's eyebrows twitched.

"I cannot beat you in that regard."

Richard planted his Caduceus firmly.

"So I won't fight you over this. I want to make a deal with you."

Beneath the wide-brimmed hat, those eyes lit up.

Having been a major merchant for half his life, his ears naturally perked up at the word, just as a Hunter would instinctively turn at the sound of hooves.

Richard gestured to the people on his side:

"By standing in this position tonight, I have acted as a guarantor for four names."

"If you take the job, the moment you step up, all the debts owed by the Roman table will transfer to your head."

He lifted his chin, gesturing toward the furrow.

"The price Mars paid to invite that senior who forged the city must have been steep. You probably know that better than I do, sir."

In the ruins of the second hill, Mars abruptly snapped his head up.

Mercury sighed. "You are correct."

And most fatally, Matthew was still standing outside the city walls.

Whoever stood in the position of the emissary tonight would be responsible for bringing Matthew in, because the emissary and the road were inherently one and the same.

Richard didn't say it out loud, but Mercury could clearly feel that probing gaze from outside plucking at him.

Mercury shifted his Caduceus to his right hand.

"I have a rule: if I take the money for a job, I finish it."

"If I can't finish it, I have to refund that portion. Refunding damages my reputation."

Both Caduceus staffs were raised at the same time.

Since both sides were invoking the Inviolability of Emissaries, the rule couldn't determine which one to protect, so it protected neither.

A Silver Coin flicked out from between Mercury's fingers.

It wasn't an offensive Spell Formula. Richard read it the moment it was tossed.

The coin stopped in midair, suspended at a person's height above the ground, forming a landing point.

A second coin, a third... seven coins lined up in a diagonal line between him and Richard.

Mercury strode across that line toward him.

"I bid thirty Silver Coins for your shoes."

The two small wings at Richard's ankles suddenly sank with immense weight.

"I'm not selling."

He forced the words out through clenched teeth.

The moment he pushed the words out, a large mouthful of ether was drawn away.

"You refused quite decisively."

Mercury had already circled around to his rear right.

"Then what about the lantern on you?"

"I bid forty coins."

"Not selling."

"The pen in your hand."

"It doesn't belong to me!"

"...Oh."

Mercury paused for a second.

"You answered that one well."

He hefted the coin pouch in his palm.

"Unfortunately, the better the answer, the more ether you waste."

Below the Seven Hills, Hercules stamped his feet in anxiety.

"What kind of fighting style is this! Every time he asks a question, Hermes has to burn ether."

"A merchant's fighting style," Bacchus said, hooking his cup to his waist.

"How did you think we tradesmen kill people?"

Richard retreated beneath a half-collapsed aqueduct.

Pressing his back against the cold, damp bricks, he took two breaths and pushed down with the Condensed Mirror Method.

[Speculation; Inner Awakening] lit up.

For a price quote to take effect, someone had to hear it.

He swallowed that breath back and spat out Silence.

A mediumless sphere of vacuum fell between him and Mercury.

Mercury's next bid was cut off the moment it left his mouth.

That half-syllable vanished into the vacuum without even a trace of an echo. He froze in surprise.

"...Beautiful."

"I've seen this move of yours in Vienna as well."

Richard didn't respond. Seizing those few seconds, he hurled out the Moon Nail.

The cluster of needles scraped past Mercury's left ribs and embedded into the broken pillar behind him.

A short section of the ancient text carved into the pillar was scorched away.

"You really don't look like a Scholar right now."

Mercury twisted aside to dodge the second needle and withdrew a very old silver coin from his breast pocket.

Richard's Condensed Mirror Method reflected a layer of deathly white.

He recognized it—ferry fare. The coin collected by the ferryman of the River Styx.

By Mediterranean custom, a silver coin was placed under a dead man's tongue.

"Your Excellency."

Mercury clamped the coin between his index and middle fingers and held it up.

"Lady Minerva already finished my words for me tonight. You are an unregistered entity."

He took a step forward.

"Nameless, cityless, homeless."

He pushed the ferry fare toward Richard.

"This person must be ferried."

The entire ether field of the City of Seven Hills flipped inside out.

The waters of the Tiber stopped flowing, and the pitch-black darkness from the riverbed surged upward.

A door opened behind him. Richard had opened doors like this for others several times this past year; he was all too familiar with it. Tonight, however, he was on the side being sent away.

Richard stood in black water that reached his ankles.

The Caduceus was in his hand, but the Inviolability of Emissaries could not protect him tonight.

This ferry fare was a naming. Someone had written a line of text for him, and once written, it was about to be sealed.

The method to counter it was simple. The [Mask of the Reverse Emissary] would suffice.

Using it would bounce the ferry fare right back, but the original version of the Mask of Hermes would instantly be rendered inert.

The coin was already right in front of the tip of his nose.

Richard raised his hand and pressed it to his face.

"...Mask of the Reverse Emissary."

The twin golden snake patterns flipped inside out beneath his palm.

The ferry fare stopped less than half a meter from his lips. It hovered for half a second, then did a complete U-turn.

"...Huh?"

Mercury's face was filled with utter confusion.

"Nameless, cityless, homeless. This person can be ferried." All of it landed squarely on his own head.

Mercury lost his footing and fell flat on his rear onto the stone paving.

He threw his left hand out to grab his coin pouch, but with a loud clatter, the coins scattered all over the ground.

Richard looked over.

A coin rolled in a circle across the stone paving where the black water had receded, finally coming to a stop at his feet.

An Austro-Hungarian krone, one wing of its double-headed eagle worn away.

A mark from Germania.

A franc from Franc.

A sovereign gold coin from Albion, dated the year before last.

A ruble from Rus, a lira from the Ottomans, and finally, pinned at the very bottom, a few of Apennine's own silver coins.

Richard stood in place and lowered his hand from his face.

The original Mask had extinguished. Now, he held nothing in his hands.

However, the influence of the "Romanization" upon him had also completely vanished.

The [Mask of the Reverse Emissary] remained active. Any power attempting to define, name, or overwrite his identity from the outside was reflected back, rejection included.

Richard lifted his foot and easily took a step forward.

Mercury first gathered the coins from the ground one by one, picking them up and slipping them back into his pouch. He carefully wiped the dirt off that precious gold coin.

He stood up, took off his wide-brimmed hat, and gave Richard a proper, formal bow.

"Your Excellency."

"I have spent half my life as a middleman."

"And I have only ever done one thing: pass what's in my hands onto someone else."

"While the goods are in my hands, I can't sleep soundly for a single night. Only once they're handed off do I dare to eat my breakfast."

He hefted the coin pouch, tightly gripping its drawstrings.

"This position tonight is the most scalding deal I've taken in my entire life."

"Four tolls. What Mars owes that senior, plus the losses of the ladies."

He raised his head, glancing over toward the city walls.

"But the most critical part is the final sum."

"Whoever stands in this position has to receive the one on the road outside the city."

On the first hill, Minerva stood up.

"Mercury, what are you doing?"

Mercury shifted his hat to his left hand.

"I am passing the position of the emissary onto someone else."