This Isn't Brainwashing?!

Shadowmeld did not know he had already been marked.

He merely wandered the streets, seemingly without purpose, while actually searching for any "City Hall officials" who might appear.

Before long, he found one.

He was a rather young White Folk man, probably only in his twenties, dressed in City Hall attire. Though he was no high-ranking official, he was likely still a civil servant.

Holding an information terminal, he was asking people on the street who had sampled the cola about their personal impressions.

"I think it's not stimulating enough. The flavor could be more explosive." That was an Iron Folk response. They were a people who could drink seawater directly and chew chili peppers and spices as casually as vegetables, so cola really was not quite stimulating enough for them.

"I feel the licorice flavor might be a little too heavy. The stimulation rushes straight to the head." That was a White Folk response. Their race had keen senses and strong spiritual power, so they easily noticed subtle issues that others could not.

"It tastes best chilled in summer. You can't taste much in winter. It's best with grilled meat patties—one bite of patty, one sip of cola." That came from someone who knew how to enjoy life.

Not many people were willing to offer suggestions. It was not that the rewards were unattractive, but rather that most people... did not have a very rich vocabulary. All they could say was that it tasted good; if forced to offer feedback, they could barely squeeze out a few words.

Besides, asking a group of formerly impoverished Mountain Folk refugees and rural mountain folk whether sugary water tasted good—when even honey water was scarce here, could they possibly say it tasted bad?

Seeing this, Shadowmeld knew how to draw the official