The next morning, Ale woke up feeling more energized. The previous night, he had cast an air spell, creating a ten-centimeter thick barrier around the walls of his apartment. This barrier trapped the noise in a silent circuit, muffling the sounds from the neighboring apartments. Thanks to this, Ale hadn't been disturbed by any yelling or conversations, and he had finally slept well.

As he stretched in bed, he thought about his mattress. "I need to find a way to make this bed softer," he murmured. The idea of using earth magic to grow moss on the mattress crossed his mind. "Might be worth a try," he thought, smiling slightly.

The sun hadn't risen yet. He glanced at the clock and saw it was six in the morning. *Maybe I'd sleep a little longer if the bed were softer,* he thought, chuckling to himself.

Once ready, he stepped outside to begin his morning routine. He started by stopping at the bakery. The queue had already formed outside the shop. The comforting smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, just like every day. Martha, ever cheerful, greeted him warmly, while Henry grumbled in the back, complaining about the rising cost of ingredients.

After grabbing his bread, Ale headed to the nearby grocery store to pick up some rillettes. As he entered, Renan greeted him with his usual energy.

"So, kid, what are you up to now that I know you better? Adventurer, right?" Renan asked, giving the shelves a quick glance.

Ale nodded. "Yeah, I'm going to become an adventurer. My training starts in six days."

Renan narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "And do you already have gear? A sword, armor, all that?"

Ale shook his head. "No, not yet. I don't have enough money for now."

Renan nodded, looking concerned. "Hmm, that's going to be tough, especially if you're serious about this. But listen up, kid, there's a way to make some quick money around here. Ever heard of day labor?"

Ale furrowed his brow. "Day labor? No, what's that?"

Renan grinned and leaned in slightly. "Every morning, around six, folks gather at the square to find work. It goes on until about seven. You've still got a shot today, it's six-thirty, so you're on time! Employers come with signs to recruit workers for the day. Some jobs can pay you two or three silver coins a day, depending on what you do."

Ale quickly did the math in his head. *If I work for the next six days, I might be able to afford at least a sword before my training…* he murmured.

Renan, pleased to see Ale catching on, added, "You've got to get there early, be quick, and show you're ready to work. Employers always pick the strongest and healthiest young ones. And watch your back, kid. Some shady folks hang around there, so be careful who you trust."

Ale nodded. "Thanks for the advice, Renan. I'll try my luck today."

Renan smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Good luck, kid. You're sharp, I'm sure you'll make it."

Ale left the grocery store, his bag a little heavier with rillettes, but his mind much lighter with the new information in hand. If he could secure a job for the day, he'd finally be able to save up enough money to properly equip himself.

Ale hurried toward the square, finishing his breakfast—a piece of black bread with rillettes—as he walked. Renan's advice echoed in his mind, and he hoped luck would be on his side today so he could land a job.

When he arrived, about thirty people had already gathered under the platform, some looking eager, others beaten down by disappointment.

On the platform, a sturdy man holding a sign that read "Collector – 2 Silver Coins" was speaking loudly and confidently.

"Ladies and gentlemen, simple work today: collecting recyclables in other districts. No special skills required, just gather what's useful. Easy work with decent pay!"

The speech stirred the crowd below the platform. Hands shot up, and some people even jumped in place, trying to catch the man's attention. He waved his sign and pointed at potential workers. "You, with the red hair over there. You, the big guy on the right. And you, you look fit."

After selecting his team, the man calmly descended the platform, making way for the next employer. Ale, who hadn't raised his hand, observed closely, trying to understand how these recruitments worked.

Another employer climbed the platform with a new sign. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm offering simple work: delivering small packages around the city. Each delivery earns you 10 bronze coins. The more deliveries you make, the more you earn."

Ale thought it sounded like a good opportunity and raised his hand, but he wasn't noticed this time. The man picked a few people, and after this wave of selections, only about twenty workers remained in the square.

As Ale began to doubt his chances, another man stepped onto the platform with a satisfied smile, holding a different sign.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Ladies and gentlemen, listen closely. I have a golden opportunity for you! You won't believe it. Viscount Alaric de Montclair is hosting a banquet for his son Adric's 18th birthday, and we need motivated people to help serve. It's simple work: you'll be serving guests at the tables, and you'll be paid 20 silver coins for the evening! Isn't that wonderful?"

The moment he finished speaking, excitement rippled through the crowd. Murmurs of awe spread among the workers.

"20 silver coins! I can feed my family for two months with that!" exclaimed a scrawny man, his eyes shining with joy.

"What generosity!" murmured an older man.

"We're lucky we didn't get picked earlier!" added another, congratulating himself for waiting. The name of Viscount Alaric Montclair was chanted several times: "Long live the Viscount! Long live the Viscount!"

Ale couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as well. With 20 silver coins, he wouldn't have to worry about his finances for a while. He could even afford proper equipment before his adventurer training began.

As he daydreamed about how he would spend the 20 silver coins, a familiar voice rang out next to him.

"Hey, kid, be careful."

Ale turned to see Chance, the beggar he had met the previous day. With a grave expression, Chance was eyeing the offer with suspicion.

"Doesn't that sound too good to be true?" Chance said, raising an eyebrow. "20 silver coins, just for serving tables? I'm telling you, money doesn't fall from the sky, especially not from the Viscount. That man's stingy. He's never lifted a finger to help the people of the slums, and he's the one who allowed the mafiosos to control the district. All he cares about is the tax money the Red Band pays him."

Ale looked at Chance, torn between the golden opportunity in front of him and the old man's words. Part of him wanted to believe in this chance for easy money, but another part recalled Chance's warnings. Promises of easy money rarely came without strings attached.

"If I were you, I wouldn't trust this so-called opportunity too much," Chance continued, grimacing. "Stories like this pop up in the slums all the time, and they rarely end well. Think carefully before you jump in."

Ale glanced around, seeing the excitement in the other workers' faces. But Chance's warning echoed in his mind. What should he do? Accept the offer and take a risk or keep searching for something more reliable?

Ale hesitated for a moment, his gaze lost in the excited crowd. The offer seemed too good to be true, but after all, it was a viscount. *"If he truly wants to govern these people, he has to keep his word… right?"* he thought aloud, trying to convince himself.

"I'll take my chances, Chance," he finally responded, a small smirk playing on his lips.

The old man, Chance, remained silent for a moment, his expression darkening. Ale, with a gesture of gratitude, handed him a piece of black bread spread with rillettes.

"I hope I'm wrong this time," Chance muttered, accepting the food with a heavy sigh.

He took a bite of the bread, chewing slowly as if preparing to reveal a burdened secret. "I'll give you one piece of advice, kid... and I hope this won't be the last time we meet." His voice lowered to a barely audible whisper.

Ale leaned in, straining to listen.

"When you work for the viscount, they'll make you sign a contract. But... read the fine print, kid. Every word. If you can't read, get someone you trust to do it. Because if you don't... you'll lose more than you think." Chance's grip tightened around the crust of the bread, as if reliving a past nightmare. "I'm speaking from experience. I've lost more than just money in deals like that."

A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the cold winter wind. Ale furrowed his brow, trying to grasp the weight of the old man's warning. Chance looked at him for a moment, his gaze somber.

The old man rose slowly, his joints creaking with the effort. "I'm telling you this for your own good, kid. Be wary of promises from those up top... they usually end up crushing those down below."

Ale nodded, deep in thought. "Thank you, Chance."

"Remember, I'm always around if you need information…" Chance added before disappearing into the shadows of the square.

Ale sat for a few more moments, staring at the horizon. Chance's words echoed in his mind like a warning bell.

He stood up, tightening the strap of his bag, and cast one last glance at the bustling square. The man with the sign continued to guide people with a satisfied grin, clearly pleased with the excitement he had stirred.

Ale exhaled deeply. "I'll be careful, Chance," he whispered to himself before standing.

Without looking back, he blended into the crowd following the man.

With a determined gaze, Ale pressed forward, ready to face whatever awaited him.