As night fell, the group set up camp in the wilderness.
Gregor disappeared for a moment, and when he reappeared, he was carrying a heavy bundle of objects.
The Pure Gold reflected an alluring dark red hue in the firelight.
Is that enough?
Enciodes roughly counted them, and the surprise on his face turned into composure:
"You've given too much. With the purity of this batch of Pure Gold, just one-fifth would be enough to pay the full amount."
"Excess money, for travel expenses."
The electronic voice remained calm. Gregor turned and walked towards Ifrit to help her set up the barbecue grill.
"It seems they don't want to accept your 'kindness'."
Gnosis strolled over and handed his friend a cup of hot tea.
Enciodes took a small sip, his gaze following Gregor's retreating figure.
"Not all investments are about seeing immediate returns, Gnosis," he replied calmly.
"For some people, making a good first impression is a success in itself."
Enciodes handed the teacup back to Gnosis and walked toward the campfire, sitting down not far from Gregor.
"The journey can be boring, so feel free to chat if you don't mind." He briefly introduced the three of them.
"I am Enciodes SilverAsh Clan, that is my friend Gnosis Edweiss, and the young man driving the chariot is our companion, the Courier."
"Gregor."
Gregor gave his name in response. He then reached out and pressed down on Ifrit, who was waving a burning branch beside her.
"Ifrit, my sister."
"Miss Ifrit is very lively," Enciodes said with a smile.
"If you find my full name hard to pronounce, just call me 'SilverAsh,' that's what my friends call me."
Gregor nodded, remained silent for a moment, then Ten Percent Off % electronic voice sounded, the content of which made SilverAsh slightly startled:
"Don't use 'you' (formal/formal)."
The smile on SilverAsh's face became a bit more genuine.
"Okay, Gregor." He readily agreed.
The atmosphere here was relaxed, while the Courier preparing dinner.
Seeing that the boss seemed to have struck up a conversation with the mysterious guest, he breathed a slight sigh of relief.
Seeing that Ifrit seemed a little bored, he rummaged through his bag and pulled something out, then walked over with a smile.
"Miss Ifrit,"
He tried to make his voice sound friendly and harmless, and handed over a small stick-shaped object.
"Try this? It's Kjerag cheese stick, not bad."
Ifrit gave him a wary look, Courier didn't seem to mind, taking a bite and chewing it with relish.
Ifrit's nose twitched, and after a moment's hesitation, she took the small bite from the Courier.
The rich milky aroma melted in my mouth, and my eyes immediately lit up.
Seeing this, Gregor walked over.
"How much."
The Courier immediately tensed up and quickly waved his hand:
"No, no! It's just a snack!"
Ignoring his refusal, Gregor handed him a piece of Pure Gold.
Thank you for your kindness, please don't refuse. If you feel it's too much, you can exchange it for more cheese sticks.
"Take your money, and leave me my cheese stick."
Yes! I'll go get it right away!
The Courier took the piece of Pure Gold with both hands, turned and ran to the supply box, rummaging through all the remaining stock.
Seeing Ifrit's squinting eyes, Gregor gently rubbed her head.
After a relaxing dinner, drowsiness crept in. Ifrit's eyelids began to droop.
Soon, even breathing resumed.
Once she was completely asleep, Gregor stood up. Without a word, SilverAsh immediately understood and walked away with Gregor.
The night wind in the wilderness carried a chill, and the stars hung sparsely on the inky sky.
"That child is Infected."
Gregor cut to the chase, SilverAsh's expression remaining unchanged:
"What... what do you need?"
"Inhibitors. Do you have reliable channels for purchasing them?"
"Yes." SilverAsh's answer was equally decisive, without the slightest hesitation or uncertainty.
"In Kazimierz, the Business Federation can get you anything for the right price—including the rope to hang themselves."
"Time, how long until arrival?"
After a moment's thought and weighing the pros and cons, SilverAsh made his choice:
"If we continue on this current route, it will take about a week to arrive." He then changed the subject.
"But if we switch to the main route, it will only take two days."
"The difference." Gregor clearly understood the unspoken meaning.
"Risks," SilverAsh admitted frankly.
"The main shipping lane saw frequent trade, which in turn attracted a large number of risk-taking bandits."
"I'll handle it."
SilverAsh suppressed the upward curve of his lips.
It's a deal.
Two days later...
Trucks were parked in front of the checkpoint, and all kinds of vehicles, pack animals, and pedestrians lined up in long queues, creating a noisy and chaotic scene.
Gregor opened the car door, his tall figure clad in a menacing black armor attracting many glances, but those gazes quickly shifted away, losing interest.
This is Kazimierz, a place where knightly competition fervor reigns supreme.
In an effort to grab attention, even more exaggerated armor has become the norm.
Gregor's attire, at best, falls into the category of "outlandish costumes" in terms of its powerful presence.
Looking up at the colossal metal structure before him, Gregor's emotions were complex.
"Is this your first time in Kazimierz?"
SilverAsh's voice sounded from the side, carrying a hint of barely perceptible regret.
The trip over the past two days was remarkably efficient, and it showed him what it means to "solve problems myself."
The strange Originium Arts enveloped the truck, crushing several groups of rabble who tried to block its path, along with their roadblocks.
His praise for Gregor kept rising, and the desire in his eyes almost became tangible, to the point that Gregor had to change the subject to avoid this burning passion.
"Do I need to have my ID checked to enter the city?"
"Of course, the necessary procedures."
SilverAsh nodded, then gestured to the briefcase in his hand.
"However, in Kazimierz, many 'necessities' can become 'flexible'."
He paused, then lowered his voice and asked a crucial question:
"By the way, are you Infected?"
"No."
"That makes things much easier."
SilverAsh breathed a sigh of relief. Non- Infected, especially those with financial means, are always more welcome.
The inspection process was faster than expected.
The Courier skillfully negotiated with the checkpoint personnel, SilverAsh timely showed a bit of "sincerity," resulting in several documents being quickly stamped.
When it was their car's turn for the final check, a prosecutor in standard armor walked over with a record board.
"What brings you to Kazimierz?" he asked routinely, his gaze lingering on Gregor's armor for a second longer.
"Watching the knightly competition, and discussing some small business deals," SilverAsh replied with a smile, his response perfectly tactful.
How many people?
"Four," SilverAsh replied.
Before reaching the city, Ifrit was escorted back to the Vitality Hall by Gregor to rest and avoid unnecessary trouble.
"Register." The prosecutor handed over a form and a pen.
When it was Gregor's turn to fill out the form, he paused for a moment, then handed the form and pen directly to SilverAsh beside him.
"I can't read."
SilverAsh showed no surprise or disdain, and naturally accepted it:
"I'll do it."
He filled in the information Greg had given him, item by item, according to the basic information Gregor had given him.
Until the "Race" column.
The SilverAsh pen paused, then looked up at Gregor, confirming with its eyes. Gregor nodded.
SilverAsh wrote: Sarkaz.
The prosecutor suddenly looked up, carefully examining Gregor's full-body armor, and frowned.
"Sarkaz? You're not Infected?"
"No."
"Then why are you wrapped up so tightly? Why aren't you taking off your helmet?"
The prosecutor's suspicions were not dispelled. SilverAsh took half a step forward, and Pure Gold "accidentally" slipped down.
The prosecutor paused, tilting the whiteboard with remarkable ease.
"Alright, let's go. Remember, in the city... keep a low profile. Your friend's appearance is too conspicuous. The public arena and the area directly under the Business Federation are heavily patrolled and have strict rules, so try not to attract attention."
SilverAsh smiled and nodded, "Thank you for the reminder."
The checkpoint barriers rise.
After everyone left, the prosecutor waved to someone and handed them Gregor's registration form.
"Make a note of it, and observe further."
The truck slowly drove in, amidst dazzling neon lights, deafening sports announcements, and towering commercial buildings...
Gregor was somewhat dazed, but he snapped back to reality after seeing the animal ears on the passerby's head.
For a moment,
The overly "modern" scene made Gregor feel slightly disoriented.
His gaze swept across the crowd—the swaying animal ears and tails—bringing him back to reality.
Yes, this is Terra...
The vehicle arrived at the hotel, and after getting a room...
Ifrit was brought out, and as soon as she appeared, she was attracted by the noise coming from outside the window and the light and shadow of the giant screen in the distance. She leaned against the window and shouted excitedly.
SilverAsh then took several robes from his suitcase and handed them to Gregor.
"For Miss Ifrit," he explained.
"If she wants to go out, it would be safer to conceal her infection symptoms. Wearing this will reduce a lot of trouble."
Upon hearing SilverAsh's words, she immediately turned her head, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Gregor.
Gregor was silent for a few seconds, then finally nodded.
"Yeah!"
Ifrit cheered, snatched the robe and put it on, Courier smiled and helped her adjust it.
"I'll take Miss Ifrit for a walk around the neighborhood, buy some food, and we definitely won't go to any crowded or intrusive places!"
The Courier volunteered; he was lively, good at dealing with people, and perfect for taking care of children.
"Be safe."
The Courier his chest in assurance and led Ifrit out, quickly blending into the crowd on the street.
Inside the room, facing SilverAsh's invitation, Gnosis rubbed his temples, revealing obvious weariness.
"The noise of the knightly competition is of no use to me; I need rest."
SilverAsh expressed his understanding, then looked at Gregor:
"My friend, I've booked a VIP box for the game. Interested in coming over?"
Gregor looked out the window.
The outline of the arena was clearly visible, and even from this distance, one could feel the frenzied pulse emanating from it.
He didn't particularly like this kind of "performance," but he wouldn't spoil other people's fun either.
"Can."
SilverAsh smile played on his lips as he changed into a more formal coat.
The two left the hotel. The streets were teeming with people, and huge screens flickered between the buildings, displaying the heroic or glamorous images of knight stars.
SilverAsh led the way, walking calmly through the bustling crowd.
Gregor followed silently, feeling out of place amidst everything around him—the clamor of vendors, the rousing sports broadcasts, the dazzling lights.
As they passed a nicely decorated coffee shop, a familiar voice made Gregor stop in his tracks.
"... Justin, how much of our budget do we have left?"
A serious female voice came out, followed by a slightly frantic male voice:
"My God! Please don't mention this again! Do you know how many holes I have to fill right now?"
"What's wrong, my friend?"
SilverAsh noticed Gregor's pause and turned to ask.
"Fine."
Gregor shook his head, suppressing the inexplicable stirring in his heart.
It must be my imagination; how could that guy possibly be here?
The two left, but the conversation inside the coffee shop continued.
"It is precisely because of the tight budget that advance planning and rigorous auditing are even more necessary. Justin, emotional reactions won't solve the problem."
"Well..."
Justin let out a long sigh, then slumped onto the table, his voice weak.
"After leaving Kazimierz for Columbia, we finally managed to develop Rhine Lab, but now it's all for naught."
The more he spoke, the more bitter his voice became.
"Right now, my mood is like the coffee in front of me..."
As he spoke, Justin glanced at his colleague across from him, and the empty sleeve made him sigh again.
"You're the same, aren't you, Saria?"