"Quarterly shop association meeting…"

Rusty muttered as he studied the piece of parchment in his gauntleted hands. The merchant who had delivered it was long gone, and the customers in his shop had already returned to browsing the system-made weapon replicas displayed on the shelves.

"Could this be some kind of trap? Should I be worried?"

He asked his two guides, while the people nearby remained unaware of their conversation.

"I'm not sure. Considering you have become a shop owner, perhaps the people in the settlement simply want to know who they are dealing with."

Alexander replied. He was no merchant himself, so his insight was limited. Hidden contracts and arrangements were common in the city, but Rusty had built his business on his own, without relying on outside help.

"So, it should be fine?"

Rusty posed another question, and this time, his other guide replied.

"I wouldn't be so certain, my dear Rusty. These lesser beings are driven by greed. They may want to control you, or worse, strip away what you have built."

"I see…"

Rusty murmured. The words unsettled him. Aburdon's concerns sounded reasonable. Money was at the heart of humanoid life, perhaps even the most important part of it. Without it, nothing could be accomplished. Even powerful nobles and adventurers hoarded wealth to secure strength and luxury. In a society like this, almost everything depended on coin.

Rusty tightened his grip on the parchment, the letters glinting faintly in the reflection of his polished helmet. Curiosity appeared within him as he wondered how the other shop owners in the settlement might look. He was still fascinated by this humanoid world and its peculiar rules. It was a contrast to the life of monsters, where strength was the only law. He could not yet decide which side he preferred, but this seemed like a good chance to discover more of what the world had to offer.

"I have decided. I will attend this meeting!"

"⸜( ˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝"

"You want to come too? Hm… I am not sure how the humanoids will react. It might be better if you stay at the store."

"( •̀ - •́ )"

"I know, Gleam, but you understand how these people are."

"( – ⌓ – )"

Gleam clearly disliked the idea of staying behind, but her movements in the city were limited. A monster wandering freely through the settlement would only stir panic, and the guards might attack her. The only way she could travel safely was while perched on Rusty's shoulder or hidden from sight.

"Rusty is right, Gleam. They will probably not allow someone like you to take part in the meeting. And Rusty, I am not sure they will welcome you either if you show up dressed like that."

Alexander gestured toward Rusty's armored body. Although Rusty passed as an adventurer who happened to run a shop, arriving at a formal gathering in full plate armor was unusual.

"This is my body. I cannot change it!"

Rusty protested. At most, he could possess another human, but even then they would need to wear his helmet to keep the disguise.

"Hm… Perhaps a small makeover is in order. Something that softens your appearance."

"There is something wrong with the way I look?"

Rusty asked. His armor had been chosen to blend in with adventurers, not other groups. He had seen armored men around the settlement dressed differently, but he was unsure what Aburdon meant.

"Indeed. First of all, we need to get you a cape."

"A cape?"

Now that Aburdon had mentioned it, Rusty recalled that nobles and wealthy merchants often wore flowing capes and glittering jewelry. He had also noticed knights whose armor looked far more polished and ceremonial than his own. Perhaps this was what his companions meant.

"Should I craft a suit of armor more like that of a noble knight?"

He asked, and Alexander replied.

"That would not be ideal, but considering the way your body works, it would certainly look better than this adventurer's armor."

As a living suit of armor, Rusty was bound to metal, yet there were ways to soften his appearance and make him seem less threatening. Cloth and silks could be draped over his frame, and thinner plates could be fashioned to appear more decorative than functional. Still, one problem remained: what to do about his face.

"But how should it look… I am not familiar with these people. What's the word… fashion?"

Rusty admitted that he had no idea how to dress. He noticed some people wrapped in cloth from head to toe and wondered if he could simply throw a robe over his body and call it done. Before he could decide, Aburdon spoke.

"Do not worry, my dear Rusty. When I was Demon King, I was hailed as the most fashionable of all my predecessors!"

Aburdon declared with a triumphant laugh. Alexander let out a sigh and offered a quick rebuttal.

"That is an obvious lie. Let us just copy what the people in this settlement are wearing."

"Copy them? That is… possible. Hm."

Rusty pondered for a moment and glanced back at the paper. The gathering was exactly five days away, so he had enough time to create something presentable with the help of his guards. He would have preferred to spend that time increasing his levels or forging more enchanted weapons, but designing a suit of armor suitable for formal encounters was not a bad idea. The future was uncertain, and it was best to have a variety of frames ready in his system.

"Good, let us do it then. We will need a schematic first."

With that in mind, he headed into his forge. By now, he had grown used to the life of a craftsman. Making steel armor and altering it had become simple after he had rebuilt so many pieces in the past few weeks. The only challenge would be the clothing elements, but if they sketched out a design, it would be easy enough to pick up the right materials from nearby shops.

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"I think it should cover the neck area. Considering the limits of your borrowed 'face', we could disguise the helmet with a hat or a hood. Maybe even chainmail coif."

All three quickly discussed their ideas and studied a drawing of how the suit of armor would work. It would be much thinner than his usual frames and shaped to resemble a human body more closely. Over it, they planned to place a tunic that would cover his entire body and neck. His face would remain exposed, but beneath his chin, he would still need to wear part of his helmet. To hide this detail, he would use a cape trimmed with fur to draw attention away from it. To cover the rest of the helmet, he would combine a padded coif with one of the peculiar merchant hats that others often wore.

"This is perfect."

When the schematic was complete, Rusty reviewed it. Aburdon seemed delighted with his design, but to Rusty it looked a little ridiculous.

"Is it?"

"Have some trust in me, my dear Rusty. You will be the talk of this lowly human gathering."

"Sure…"

Rusty was not entirely convinced, yet the design was still far better than the one he had originally planned to use. With the plans complete, it was now time to bring them into reality, and the first step was shopping. He decided it would be best to find the tunic first and only afterward build a frame that would fit beneath it.

The marketplace bustled with life, busier than ever. Since the last orc attack, nothing else had disturbed the city, and as a result, trade had flourished. Stalls overflowed with goods: tunics, belts, leatherwork, and even vests. Though the prices were not exactly low, gathering everything he needed proved simple enough, and before long, he returned to his lair to continue his work.

Once he returned, it was time to begin. He chose one of the smaller frames, considered medium-sized for adventuring armor, and built around it. The tunic he had purchased was a deep blue, paired with black pants and sturdy leather boots of fine quality. Each piece had to fit over his frame while still allowing him to keep his balance and move without losing his footing.

"Time to work!"

Rusty laid the tunic and pants across the workbench, eyeing them like he would raw ore before smelting.

"These fabrics are softer than metal. They will rip apart if the metal body is too rough."

He knew that if he did not prepare his new body properly and left sharp edges exposed, the fabric could tear. To prevent this, he would need to polish the surface to a shine and hammer out every imperfection. Fortunately, this body did not need to be especially durable, since its purpose was only to walk and speak among others. If danger arose, he could always summon a different form, though doing so in the middle of a merchant gathering would reveal him.

'I don't think this is a trap, but if it is, I'll just use that thing.'

Rusty glanced at the side table where several potions rested. He had purchased a few alchemical concoctions that could help him escape if he were attacked.

"Now then…"

He began hammering the pieces into place. The frame he had chosen was slimmer than his usual build. The plates were narrower, and he had left several joints unarmored so the fabric could cover the gaps. It felt almost vulnerable, but with his system at hand, he was never truly defenseless.

Next came the cape. The fur trim shimmered faintly in the forge's glow as Rusty pinned it around his shoulders. The garment softened the hard outline of his armored torso and concealed the strange angles where metal met cloth.

"Doesn't it look a little too eye-catching?"

It had taken several days to assemble his new body, and now he stood before the mirror, admiring the result. Only a single day remained, leaving little time for further adjustments.

"You look magnificent! Trust this demon lord. There is just one more thing you should take to complete the look…"

Rusty turned his gaze to the side, where the final piece awaited. His new costume was complete, with nearly all the metal hidden beneath layers of cloth, though a portion of his human head remained uncovered. The last step was to appear at the gathering scheduled for the following afternoon.

The next day, Rusty arrived at the merchant guild hall in his newly crafted "merchant attire."

The building was large, with carved wooden beams and lanterns swaying outside its doors. Dozens of voices carried through the entrance as people were welcomed inside.

'It's similar to the Adventurer's Guild.'

He did not understand why humanoids created so many associations and guilds. They divided themselves into countless smaller groups, each with its own leader, usually someone with great experience in the trade. After adjusting the fur-lined cape draped across his shoulders, he stepped forward toward the man holding a clipboard and marking arrivals.

"I was told to come here for the quarterly shop association meeting?"

His only proof of invitation was the parchment the merchant had given him, and he held it out to the man with spectacles.

"Ah, good day, sir…"

The man turned to him, but his words faltered as soon as he saw Rusty. His eyes darted up and down, studying him with hesitation. He blinked several times, his pen hovering above the page as though he could not decide whether to record Rusty's name or call the guards.

"And who might you be, dear sir?"

His smile was strained, and he rifled through his notes, clearly uncertain of Rusty's identity.

"I'm Edmund, owner of The Living Metal Forge."

Rusty straightened his cape and lifted his chin, imitating the noble posture he had studied. His secret weapon, a cane in his right hand, supported his stance exactly as Aburdon had instructed. The people nearby had been watching him closely, but when he turned his head, they all averted their gazes at once.

"L-living Metal Forge, you say? Please wait a moment."

The man dabbed his forehead with a cloth before scanning his notes again. At last, his pen stopped, and he placed a check mark beside a name.

"Y-yes, of course, Master Edmund. Please proceed inside."

Rusty strode through the wooden doorway, his boots ringing softly against the polished floorboards. Inside, dozens of merchants had already gathered, seated around long tables laden with wine, roasted meats, and baskets of bread. Iron chandeliers above them cast flickering candlelight across their silky robes, velvet shirts, and jeweled rings.

This hall was unlike the Adventurer's Guild. The tables were arranged in a ring around a central floor where an entertainer sat plucking a song on a large harp. Before him, three women in light clothing danced gracefully to the tune.

"Is this really a merchant meeting?"

Alexander had expected something formal and professional, yet what he found instead resembled a celebration.

"It is not so different from the demonic gatherings. Even if these lesser beings appear to be enjoying themselves, many are only using the drink as a cover to conduct business."

Aburdon's sharp gaze missed nothing. He understood that the music, the alcohol, and the dancers all served the same purpose: to loosen tongues and soften the mood, making negotiations easier.

"I am certain there is a price for such things…"

Rusty made his way to the edge of the room, scanning the faces. Some merchants stole glances at him, whispering behind their cups. A few looked amused at his overly formal attire, while others frowned, unsure of who this "Edmund" was. But most ignored him, far more interested in the food, drink, or their own circles of influence.

Rusty found a bench along the wall and settled onto it. From there, he could see the entire gathering. He was still unsure whether this was a genuine meeting or some kind of elaborate trap. The settlement was small, and when everyone finally arrived, the number of store owners was fewer than he expected. Only about twenty people had come.

The music stopped without warning. The dancers withdrew, and the mood shifted at once. Conversations faded to murmurs as three figures entered from the far end of the room.

"Those must be the true leaders."

Alexander murmured. The three seemed to command attention without effort. On the left walked a man broad as an oak, his arms heavy with muscle. His beard was white but thick, and scars showed beneath the rolled sleeves of his shirt.

In the middle strode a tall man whose gaze swept over the merchants as though he were surveying property already in his possession. Gold rings gleamed on his fingers, and although his smile was thin, it carried the calm authority of someone long accustomed to obedience.

On the right came a narrow-shouldered figure, thin as a quill. Spectacles flashed on his face, and he clutched a thick ledger tight against his chest as if it were more valuable than any treasure. His sharp eyes moved constantly, calculating and weighing, noting every detail.

These were the true overlords of the merchant group, and Rusty could tell that one of them was looking directly at him…