I Have a Suite in Another World

"Are you talking about two thousand? Is that in gold coins?" Zhang Yuan asked, clinging to a sliver of hope that he had misheard.

The bartender, maintaining a serious demeanor, cruelly shattered his illusion. "That's the price. The inner city is patrolled day and night by the reliable Flaming Fist Mercenary Group, and all the major temples are located here. Besides old Habathur, who is known for his temper and likes to stay in his own junk shop, all the other mages have built their mage towers in the inner city."

"Another name for the inner city is the Noble District. Anyone with a bit of status in Baldur's Gate chooses to buy property here and live a decent life. And besides Candlekeep, which is quite mysterious, there's no safer place in the entire Sword Coast."

"Then can't people settle in the other districts? How could so many residents all fit into the small area of the inner city? I don't see any problems with the other locations," Zhang Yuan argued, already feeling a bit discouraged by the bartender's words.

"Oh? I thought our esteemed guest, who only knows of Elven Song, wouldn't settle for anything less than a mansion?" the bartender's voice suddenly lightened, shifting from its previous low tone.

Damn it! Realizing he had been teased, Zhang Yuan glared at the bartender, gritting his teeth and squeezing out each word: "Respected Mr. Nan Qu, could you please see if there are any affordable houses in the outer city for a poor, insignificant outsider like myself who has no claim to dignity?!"

"Ahem!" The bartender, realizing he had gone a bit too far, didn't dare to continue his jesting. He spoke seriously, "The situation in the outer city is much more complex. Different districts have different ecosystems and populations. But generally, you get what you pay for; the cheaper the area, the less safe it is."

Since there weren't many customers at the moment, Nan Qu continued, "For example, in the commercial district to the southwest, the Flaming Fist Guild headquarters is located there. Its safety and order are not much different from the inner city, which is why some mages and merchants congregate there, and the housing prices there aren't much cheaper than in the inner city."

"The dock district to the south is a bit worse. Although the Iron Throne headquarters and the Maritime Administrator are there, they're not as reliable as the Flaming Fist, not to mention the troublesome presence of the temple of the 'Cheap Queen'."

As the bartender spoke, he took a drink to wet his throat. Seeing this, Zhang Yuan also helped himself to the jade wine he had just bought at the bar. The wine felt similar to rum. After the pungent liquid entered his mouth, a sweet aftertaste with a sugarcane aroma rose, suggesting it might have been brewed from sugarcane or similar sugar-producing plants.

"Are there any other areas? How is the environment to the east?" Zhang Yuan asked after the drink had settled.

"The east is hard to say. The gate district is a mix of people from all walks of life, and it's rumored that members of the Thieves' Guild often appear there," the bartender said, lowering his voice towards the end. "What's even more frightening is the northeast corner of the inner city. Although it's part of the inner city, it seems like everyone ignores this dark corner. No one can say for sure what the situation is like there. Only some poor people and beggars are there, perhaps because Ilmater's temple is located there."

Ilmater? Isn't that the god of suffering, the protector of beggars and the poor? Thinking about the possible living conditions near Ilmater's temple, Zhang Yuan couldn't help but feel troubled.

It wasn't that he looked down on the deity or his followers; on the contrary, he greatly respected Ilmater's principles and admired his actions.

To establish his temple in a slum or even a beggar's den, to protect the weak and the poor day in and day out without any gaudy or luxurious adornments on his facade—this couldn't be simply dismissed with a lighthearted doctrine.

Zhang Yuan felt he was far from matching such integrity and actions. It was precisely because of this that he could only admire but not emulate.

It had nothing to do with discriminating against the poor; Zhang Yuan simply didn't want to risk placing himself in a dangerous environment when he was still weak.

He hadn't forgotten that the den of the underworld organization and the meeting place for assassins were located in that district, and almost all murder-related missions bypassed this shadow-shrouded place.

As the saying goes, even a prince does not sit under a precarious eaves. Avoiding risks within one's capacity was Zhang Yuan's code of conduct.

With that in mind, Zhang Yuan had a preliminary idea and was about to ask the all-knowing bartender in front of him: "I think the gate district is more suitable for me. What are your thoughts?"

"If you plan to settle there, my advice is to choose locations closer to the south. There are fewer residents in the southern part of the gate district; most of it is rented warehouses belonging to merchant guilds."

At this moment, Zhang Yuan suddenly remembered the dilapidated room where he had first woken up. Tracing his route back to the tavern, he realized it should be somewhere between the dock district and the gate district.

"It does seem like there are fewer people in the area you mentioned, and there are some abandoned houses," Zhang Yuan suddenly had a "brilliant idea." "Aren't those houses ownerless? Then why doesn't anyone just move in?"

"Do you think those homeless people don't want to get a bargain?" The bartender scoffed and explained, "Even though they are abandoned, those houses and warehouses are registered with the city hall and managed by the Flaming Fist. If you want to move in, you'll have to pay a fee to the city council, and then there's the cost of subsequent repairs."

"How much would that be?" the stingy man asked reluctantly.

The bartender turned to attend to other customers, leaving behind only: "I don't know. You'll have to ask the Flaming Fist."

As the sun rose higher towards noon, a few more customers began to arrive at the empty tavern. Zhang Yuan felt he had gathered enough information and it might be time to act.

Changing into the coarse cloth clothes he had bought at the general store, Zhang Yuan grabbed his pack and left the tavern. Asking for directions along the way, he headed towards the Flaming Fist Guild in the southwest district.

Having never worn such cheap clothing, which seemed like it was taken directly from a medieval museum, Zhang Yuan felt as if he was wearing torture instruments rather than clothes.

Could this be the clothing invented by Minister Geng? Zhang Yuan, immensely annoyed, felt an urge to tear the devilishly chafing clothes to shreds after only a few steps.

However, he was already on the street. No matter how thick-skinned he was, he couldn't bear to strip in public. He could only endure it.

Wait, don't I have Mage Armor on? Why can't I adjust the armor to be close to my skin? Thinking of this, Zhang Yuan gave himself a mental pat on the back for his cleverness.

Unfortunately, as a layperson, all his spells came directly from the system, and he couldn't control them. Adjusting the size or scope of the armor was like a turtle trying to drag its shell—utterly impossible.

Retracting his self-congratulation, he was now gnashing his teeth, scratching himself all over like Sun Wukong as he quickened his pace.

Coincidentally passing a clothing store, Zhang Yuan could no longer bear it and rushed inside.

About fifteen minutes later, Zhang Yuan, now wearing cotton clothes, let out a long sigh of relief. The price for this comfort was the disappearance of two silver coins from his pocket.

Although he felt the pinch deeply, the stingy man knew that some expenses were necessary!

With a smiling farewell and guidance from the proprietress, Zhang Yuan finally arrived at the Flaming Fist headquarters.