Hui sat across from him, leisurely cutting the beef on his plate, occasionally glancing up at Orlando.
His expression remained unchanged, but a glimmer of something like “interesting” seemed to flash in his heterochromatic pupils.
Orlando finished his third plate, stood up, and walked back to the serving station.
The potato stew was almost empty.
He lifted the iron pot, scraping the last bit of sauce onto his plate.
Then he lifted the lid of the boiled vegetables—there was still half a plate left.
He hesitated for half a second, decided to supplement his body with some vitamins today, and scooped a spoonful.
When he returned to his seat, he found Hui watching him.
“You have a good appetite, sir.”
“It’s alright.”
He tore a slice of black bread in half, using one half to wipe the sauce off his plate before stuffing it into his mouth.
“I don’t usually eat this much.”
‘Today he almost turned into Olivia. His body had consumed a lot of energy suppressing the dragon bloodline, and now his stomach felt like a bottomless pit.’
He finished the fourth plate.
Hui didn’t say a word throughout.
It was only when Orlando stood up for the fifth time that he silently pushed his own untouched black bread across the table toward him.
Orlando glanced at him.
“Thanks.”
He picked up the bread and took a big bite.
Federal-made black bread, mixed with bran and who knows what else, rough as sandpaper to chew, but the calories were real.
‘Back in Silverport City, he’d eaten things even harder to swallow—things that still made his stomach cramp just thinking about them.’
After the sixth plate, he finally felt full.
He pushed the plate forward, leaned back in his chair, and let out a satisfied sigh.
“How is that little girl from last night?”
Hui wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin.
His movements were elegant, unlike a former merchant who claimed to be bankrupt.
“Thanks to you, sir, she’s fine.”
“The arrow poison is neutralized?”
“Neutralizing the Night Blossom Herb’s toxin with holy light isn’t difficult. She rested all night and regained consciousness this morning.”
Orlando nodded.
‘His mind flashed back to the pale little face from last night and the two rows of teeth marks on his wrist. A dark elf girl, white hair, red eyes, no older than twelve, wielding an iron sword as an assassin. Is the assassin industry so competitive these days that they even hire child labor?’
“Who sent the killer last night?”
Hui put down the napkin, folding his hands on the table.
“Probably an amateur assassin.”
“What do you mean, ‘probably’?”
“That alley is the border between several underground factions in Rantesti City. It’s common for random assassins to pick up jobs there. You must have run into one by chance.”
“Not very skilled,” Orlando said.
Hui nodded slightly.
“Indeed, not very skilled.”
‘An assassin unwilling to finish the job—either a first-timer or some idiot who drank a few glasses of alcohol and dared to take a killing contract. Either way, they were pretty weak.’
“Why did that little girl attack me last night?”
Orlando rested his arm on the edge of the table.
The teeth marks on his wrist were still under his sleeve, faintly itchy.
Hui was silent for a moment.
Not long, about two or three breaths.
But Orlando noticed.
“She… isn’t very stable emotionally,” Hui said.
“Sometimes she mistakes innocent people for enemies.”
Orlando recalled last night’s situation.
‘The white-haired loli’s stab from behind wasn’t particularly forceful, but the angle was tricky. If it weren’t for all the martial arts he’d honed as a dragon slayer—he might not have caught that sword. Then she collapsed. After that, they both lay on the ground, not even moving. Definitely not like a professional assassin. More like—a kid with unstable emotions who sees the whole world as an enemy.’
“Alright,” Orlando said.
‘He decided not to press further. Everyone has their own troubles. He had enough of his own. A former dragon slayer with a mysterious pink-haired deity living inside him, who could turn into a silver dragon loli at any moment—he had no right to lecture anyone.’
Hui took a piece of paper from his pocket, placed it on the table, and pushed it toward Orlando.
The paper was Federal-made, pure white coated paper, with the Red Sun Company’s emblem in the upper left corner—a blood-red circle, like a sun or something else.
The page was densely printed with text.
Orlando glanced at it—a standard Federal employment contract.
“Are you planning to stay here, sir?”
Hui asked.
Orlando looked at the contract.
‘He had wanted to refuse.’
‘He hated nothing more than signing contracts. In those two years in Silverport City, every contract he signed ended up as worthless paper—the company laid people off at will, cut salaries at will, and none of the promised protections were ever honored. Federal contract spirit, hah.’
‘But the problem was, he couldn’t even get out of the city.’
‘The city gate had military police checking wanted posters. He wasn’t tall enough to scale the walls, and he couldn’t find the entrance to the sewers. Victoria’s seven-day deadline was down to six days, and he still didn’t know where the Alderon Ruins were.’
‘And there was food here.’
‘Potato stew. Boiled vegetables. Black bread. Unlimited.’
‘His stomach made the decision for his brain.’
“I won’t look at the contract for now,” Orlando pushed the paper back.
“But I can stay for a while and see.”
Hui smiled slightly, putting the contract back into his pocket.
His movements were as natural as if he had expected this outcome.
“Then, sir, come with me to meet the captain.”
Orlando stood up, pushing his chair back under the table.
“Oh, right,” he suddenly remembered a question.
“What’s your role here?”
Hui was leading the way, but at those words, he turned his head.
His black-and-white split hair swayed gently, and his heterochromatic pupils reflected the light of oil lamps on the corridor walls.
“Vice-captain,” he said.
Orlando opened his mouth, then closed it.
‘Alright. Vice-captain. A man who once ran a business in Osteria, went bankrupt, started over in Alderon, walks without a sound, and can use angelic holy light.’
‘Reasonable.’
‘Very reasonable.’
‘So reasonable he didn’t even have the energy to complain.’
Hui led him down the corridor, past a few closed doors, and finally stopped in front of a door at the end.
An iron plate hung on the door, painted with the words “Captain’s Office” in crooked letters.
Hui knocked.
A voice came from inside.
“Come in.”
It was a female voice, sounding young.
Hui pushed the door open and stepped aside to let Orlando enter first.
Orlando walked in, then stopped in his tracks.
‘This captain’s office was about three times messier than he had imagined.’
A huge map hung on the wall, marked with colorful pins and symbols he couldn’t understand.
Beneath the map was a wide desk cluttered with documents, account books, empty snack bags, several teacups, an ashtray—with no ashes, but stuffed with candy wrappers—and a square-looking machine.
Orlando stared at that machine for two seconds.
It was a small screen, showing pixelated graphics.
A little figure in armor was swinging a sword at a slime.
The machine was connected to several colorful wires, and at the end of those wires was a controller—held in a pair of small hands.
The owner of those hands sat behind the desk, the chair raised to its highest height, otherwise she couldn’t reach the tabletop.
A red-haired girl.
She seemed just over a meter and a half tall.
Twin ponytails hung from either side of her head, the ends curled into small arcs.
Her red hair wasn’t a fake dye, but natural, as vivid as flames.
Her eyes were also red.
Orlando’s gaze unconsciously moved downward a bit.
‘Her chest wasn’t as exaggerated as Olivia’s.’
‘But her assets were definitely not shallow.’
“Wait for me to finish this level,” she said without looking up.
Orlando stood there, watching the little figure on the screen slash left and right.
Hui stood beside him, looking used to it.
The room was silent for a few seconds, filled only by the clicking of buttons and electronic sound effects from the screen.
The light from the overhead electric lamp reflected off the snack bag wrappers.
Orlando glanced—potato chips, cookies, fruit candies, chocolate bars—all Federal products.
‘Getting these in the Alderon Empire was probably about as difficult as stealing the Silver Dragon Queen’s crown from the Dragon Clan Palace.’
He turned his gaze back to the red-haired girl.
‘Red hair. Red eyes. A meter and a half. Twin ponytails.’
‘This color scheme. This height. This hairstyle.’
‘Why does it look so familiar?’
“Prunier?”
Orlando blurted out.
The little figure on the screen had just killed the last slime, and the level-clear music played.
The red-haired girl looked up.
Her red eyes blinked at Orlando.
“You know me?”
There was a hint of surprise, curiosity, and a little pride in her voice—as if she was thinking, “My fame has spread even to random strangers like this.”
“Have we met?”
“Probably… not.”