Most of the people walking along this street were couples. Vehicles were forbidden from entering the entire street, and the shops along the roadside had placed their tables and chairs outside, along with sun umbrellas.
Several men and women sat around a table. Some wore hooded clothing, while others were bare-chested, exposing their bronze-colored, muscular torsos.
"It's been a long time since I joined such a comfortable team. You three had better not cause any trouble."
The bronze-skinned, burly man spoke half-jokingly. His presence was bold and unrestrained, so he was most likely a Tank.
"Okay."
A short-haired woman spoke. Whether it was her tone or intonation, everything about it made people suspect she was mocking someone. Her name was Shelley, and she was a contractor from Apocalypse Paradise.
"Things have been getting increasingly chaotic over in Garman City lately. It's already been more than ten days since we entered Alliance Star. Judging by the time, the progress of this world should be nearing its end. It's time to start the festivities."
A man in a white suit spoke. His face maintained a gentle expression, but beneath that gentleness lurked repressed, hysterical madness.
"Warlock, don't go crazy."
Short-haired Shelley's eyes held a wary look. The suited man she called Warlock came from Reincarnation Paradise. If he hadn't been a Mage Lord, she would never have agreed to let him join this team.
"Rumors. This is slander against our Reincarnation Paradise. Let me tell you, the contractors of Reincarnation Paradise are actually fairly normal. Only a small portion are crazy. What's with those looks? Believe me, if you've been to Reincarnation Paradise, you'll definitely believe what I'm saying."
Warlock, whose inherited class was Mage Lord, argued his case vehemently. In fact, Warlock was his codename.
"We believe you. None of us