Despite its reputation as a hub of industry and commerce, Welton's Furnace is also renowned for its natural beauty. In addition to its industrial and commercial achievements, Welton's Furnace is also home to a number of colorful gardens and parks, which are carefully tended by the city's residents. These outdoor spaces provide a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of the forge, and are a testament to the city's commitment to preserving its natural beauty. Many visitors to Welton's Furnace are struck by the harmonious balance between its industrial and natural landscapes, and it is this unique combination that has helped to make the city a popular destination for travelers from all over the continent.

~ Arrival Survival: Welton's Furnace

Elsewhere in Garbrandt, a curly-haired illusionist prostrated himself before a cook in attempt to recruit her as a personal chef.

The old woman stared at him with an amused smirk. Chester's outburst had a few glances sent his way, but they returned to their plates while the illusionist stayed in his begging position.

Lola had short hair, typical of an older woman. It parted naturally to the side, and she had a pair of gold-rimmed shades around her neck secured by a chain.

"You couldn't afford the wage it'd take to feed these kids!" She barked out, turning to the assistant chef behind her. "What about you, Eli? You fancy running off with 'im?"

The blonde, Eli, gave Chester a momentary glance as he got up from his kneeling position. Her ever-changing eyes met with his, giving him full view of the abnormal phenomena that resided within her corneas.

'I can't say I'm too surprised. I've literally seen everything since I came here. What's a fancy pair of eyes to me? Unless they're like, that anime kind. What was it called? The Sharigma? The Sharingan?'

While he was busy with his inner monologue, the girl turned her head and went back to the food she was cooking without a change in expression.

"He tastes like cinnamon."

"Excuse me?"

"Ah, don't mind her," Lola said. Even with the older lady taking a break, Eli continued to work at amazing speeds, rotating between several dishes at different stages of cooking to keep up with the orders. "The girl's got this neat thing where she can perceive people as tastes."

"What?" Chester widened his eyes. He couldn't make sense of what he'd just heard. The idea of perceiving people as a flavor didn't click in his mind. "So me being cinnamon-?"

"I haven't fully cracked the meaning behind them either, but I guess for you it means she's fine with you. That's good all things considered; she usually says something like 'tar' or 'sawdust' when meeting strangers."

'How does she even know what either of those taste like?'

The curly-haired man's questions were only answered with more questions. The effects of the coffee he drank only made him more susceptible to having his mind-blown and he tried to satisfy these curiosities by pestering the old woman. Soon, she grew tired of the chatter and got up to continue working.

"Kiddo, I'll have to leave this conversation for another time. But don't be a stranger and stop by sometime, eh? What's your name?"

"Chester. Nice to meet you." He offered his hand for a greeting, and she responded with a strong grip that was uncharacteristic of an old woman. Her wrinkled forehead raised lightly as she let go of his hand.

"Good talkin' with you. Everyone 'round here calls me Lola."

"Lola, I'll keep that in mind. Are you the resident grandmother here?"

"Something like that."

Those were her last words before diving back into the kitchen. Chester couldn't help but be impressed by the sights and smells of the kitchen, the sizzling of the meat on the pan, the bubbling of the soups and stews, and the aroma of the spices and herbs that filled the air. He made a mental note to visit the place often, marking it as the best food he's eaten since he woke up in this new world.. As the small time restaurant became more crowded with people, Chester decided to leave and return home.

'I'll come by again tomorrow. I think the kids and Damien would like the food they got.'

The brown-haired illusionist retraced his steps and kept his eyes and ears open for anything of interest, but none quite like Lola's restaurant struck out to him. As he neared the Twilight Bandits territory line, the purple flags bearing their insignias were placed in such a way it would take a blind person not to realize where they were.

Chester felt a bit aimless. His time at Garbrandt was similar to the way he lived on Earth; exploring, finding new things to do and moving from place to place without a goal in mind. It made him think a bit deeper about what he wanted to do with his newfound life and powers.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

'I mean, being a traveller doesn't seem so bad. But I feel like I should be doing something more. Living the way I used to...it doesn't sound as appealing anymore.'

The illusionist hadn't encountered any dissatisfaction with his lifestyle because it was the only one he had. Chester still couldn't imagine himself staying in one place. But wandering aimlessly and living in the moment without any care for the future...

'Maybe I could be some sort of monster hunter? Or an adventurer? I feel like that's what Damien's going to do.'

Thinking back to his friend, he couldn't help but think back to how they met. He didn't know what he'd be doing without the vampire prince taking him across the continent to look for his brother.

Their adventure was a priceless memory, and one he wouldn't trade for any sum of gold or wealth.

"Now that I look at it, I'm the sidekick of Damien's story..." Chester muttered to himself. He cupped his chin, deep in thought.

From the beginning, it was Damien's journey to begin with. He had the looks, the name, and the backstory. Even his moral compass, although steadily being corrupted, was ideal for a hero. His attire and weapon of choice was hero-like. Chester analyzed their time together from a story-like perspective with an amused expression.

"I don't mind. Main characters get the most bullshit to deal with. Better to be the comedic relief character that tags along for the ride."

The illusionist laughed to himself quietly as he walked through the sketchy streets, but froze upon hearing some vicious curses under a stranger's breath.

"Chester, Chester, Chester...Fucking dead-!"

Hearing his name being called out, the curly-haired adventurer turned his eyes to a shaggy-haired man limping past him. He was covered in dried blood and his robe was in tatters, but the symbol of the Twilight Bandits was emblazoned on his back. In his palm, he clutched another, tattered robe with the insignia of his gang.

'Looks like someone had a rough day. There's an evil and ballsy Chester out there beating up gangsters. Glad it wasn't me.'

He observed the man for a bit longer as he walked away. It was clear he'd gotten into some sort of fight and lost. The illusionist heard several conversations as he entered deeper into the territory.

"Did you see the fight-?"

"-Kid took out an enforcer and the giant brothers by himself. Insane."

"His skin was pale white, think he's a vampire? I've heard those guys are like demons!"

Chester groaned immediately. He gave one quick glance at the tattered and beaten man walking away before quickening his pace towards Strofil South. He walked with a slight urgency, bumping into many people in the process. He slowly pieced together the news and wanted to check if Damien was okay and why the hell he'd use the illusionist's name as an alias of all things.

He rapped his knuckles on the doorway of the orphans' base of operations. The slot opened up to reveal a pair of amber eyes.

"Password?" Sheila muttered quietly.

"I spy with my little eye, a sucker who needs his money taken."

"Wrong, that was last week's password. We changed it."

Chester shook his head. He wasn't aware of any changes like that and tapped his foot impatiently. Sheila stared at him, awaiting his next answer.

"Can I get a hint?"

"It's something you said to us before."

"Oh!" A figurative lightbulb came to life above his head. "Cheaters always win!"

"Eh, close enough."

The little girl took a few moments to open the door. As the children operated larger scale heists, they came home with many new knick-knacks; including several new locks and chains for their entrance. All of them were surprisingly handy and had a knack for making bizarre contraptions with whatever they stole. There was no such thing as being too safe, especially in Garbrandt. With the entryway opened, Chester looked at Sheila curiously.

"What's the actual password?"

"If a man's trying to grab you, kick him in the balls and run." She recited in a sing-song voice.

"That doesn't seem similar to what I said though."

"Well, you say both of them pretty often. It was my fault for making the hint so open-ended."

With that, she returned back to the room she shared with multiple other kids. The place was decently crowded, as all the orphans had returned from their daily proceedings and lounged about; some were eating and sleeping, while the older kids sifted through the goods they found during the day.

A series of greetings rung out as they saw Chester enter. Their eyes always lit up when they saw the illusionist and it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

'Man, that kid Damien was never like this to me. Always so hostile and talking about how much of a thieving bastard I am and whatever.'

"How was your trip?"

"Good, but have you guys seen Damien around?"

"No," Alvis looked nervous as he mentioned the teenaged vampire. "I think something happened to him, all the gangsters in the city have been summoned to look for a guy exactly matching his description. Did you hear what he did to Rotfoot and Orcsbane?"

The orphans were aware the pair of adventurers were strong. But the full extent was never known. To them, Orcsbane and Rotfoot weren't opponents. Simply a boogeyman they avoid at all cost. So when they heard rumors of an adolescent child with a canine familiar beating an enforcer and the head honchos of Strofil South, it was a definite cause for concern and shock.

"That idiot," Chester cursed. He had thought the boy would be a little less reckless and would've tagged along if he knew what was going to happen "I should've kept an eye on him. He doesn't know how to do shit without me."

"Should we look for him?"

"No, no, it's dangerous for you guys to be outside right now. Wait until tomorrow morning, he won't get caught that easily."

Although he said it with confidence, the illusionist worried inwardly about his companion. He crossed his fingers and cupped his chin in an impatient manner before sighing loudly.

"...but I'm going out to check if he's around. Don't bother looking for me, I'll come back on my own. Just make sure you don't get suspected for being an accomplice."

The group of orphans looked at each other uncertainly. They were indebted to the adventurers; seeing their benefactors in such a dangerous situation made them want to help, regardless of the risk involved.

Alvis stepped forward and caught the adventurer's attention, fidgeting slightly with the scar on his upper lip.

"Even if the younger kids can't, me and Bentham can go with you. We're the most capable. Having three sets of eyes and ears is better than one."

"Kiddos, this is above your paygrade. If you guys get hurt looking for Damien, we won't be here to save you!"

"We don't need savin'! You taught us all there is. We can handle ourselves." Bentham protested.

The illusionist looked on, slightly irritated. He wanted to burst out the door and start combing through the city, but he didn't want the children running off with the wrong idea. Raising his finger, he decided to negotiate with them.

"Handle yourselves? Fine, let's do a test. If you guys can land a single hit on me, I'll let you guys do whatever you want. But it has to be a clean hit. No rules, all tactics I taught you are free-"

Chester barely dodged a mechanical clock coming towards his head, and it smashed against the wall beside him. Alvis had hurled it before he even finished speaking. The scarred teen's face was set in a sheepish grin. All the other children stared at the armored adventurer with determination and vindictiveness in their eyes.

"-game. You kids are fucking scary."

In an instant, the dozen orphans descended upon Chester like a pack of wolves.