Cal intended to follow his plan to the best of his abilities. He really did. But this… person made it hard.

I have been standing here for over fifteen minutes.

He was in the Registry Office with only one other person inside.

He glared at the pudgy man leisurely eating dessert—pie with custard poured on top. The aroma that annoyingly wafted in his direction let him know this was not a mere mortal treat. This made his stomach growl.

I should eat my fill before returning to the Northern Wastes.

Cal’s eye twitched in irritation at the obnoxious way the man chewed the dessert. His patience was being severely tested, but he had to keep himself quiet—only if to leave Lumina as quickly as possible.

He knew the types sent to these desk positions: core members who were at the fringes but had enough connections to secure a cushy job instead of getting demoted out of the core guild.

They were usually of the arrogant sort—not always, but usually. Cal didn’t have to guess which type the pudgy man was.

“So, what brings you to Lumina.” The words were muffled by the half-eaten dessert.

“I need to buy a spell,” Cal's response was carefully devoid of emotion. Showing his disgust would make him deal with a bigger headache than he already was.

“I’m Core Guild Initiate Fintan, by the way,” Fintan licked his fingers clean and picked up the form Cal had put his information on.

… Who introduces themselves like this?

“Farming Initiate Cal Maddox,” Fintan’s eyebrows rose, “from the Northern Wastes? You know you’re unlikely to be allowed further, right?”

… Farming Initiate?

Cal’s fists clenched briefly, releasing right when Fintan looked up from the form. “Oh? Why is that?”

“You’re being punished. That’s an automatic rejection for entrance.”

“… I see. Is there a way I can appeal?” Cal didn’t even blame Fintan for this. If this was the norm, anyone who put down the Northern Wastes as their station would automatically be linked to punishment.

“I’m afraid not. Once the decision is made, it’s final.” Fintan was more interested in flicking some crumbs off the form than making eye contact. “Come back after your punishment has ended.”

The form was dropped into an empty mesh basket. The moment it touched the bottom, it disappeared without a commotion.

“I’m not surprised that you weren’t told of the limitation by the Overseer. He has a habit of being vindictive to people who wrong him. Just keep your head down and wait—” Fintan cut himself off. The form had reappeared in the mesh basket. He picked it up with a confused look and stared at it.

Cal had an idea why it was returned. He was thankful that Fintan didn’t seem to be the one who decided who could enter the city and who could not. “What does it say?”

“Er, you can go in?” Fintan sounded like he was asking a question.

Cal mentally thanked the Overseer for letting whoever was responsible know the lone Initiate in the Northern Wastes was not being punished.

“Thank you, Fintan. I’ll—”

“Core Initiate Fintan.”

Cal paused at the interruption. “… Right, I’ll be heading out now.” He made his way to the exit as quickly as possible without seeming rushed.

Head to the Great Market. The simulacra will be for sale on the tenth floor. I can be out of Lumina before the next hour—

“Wait!” Fintan’s voice broke through Cal’s step-by-step planning.

He closed his eyes in frustration.

“A Farming Initiate like you will be lost in the city without a guide. I will show you around to the best spots of Lumina,” Fintan grabbed his hand and attempted to pull him out of the Registry Office.

No, Cal. You can’t harm this man.

“Release my hand,” Cal ordered with a glare. Fintan did as told, purely from surprise. “Thank you for the offer, but I already know where to go. I’ll be happy to take a tour on my next visit.”

Fintan sputtered as he stepped past him to leave the building. He did consider that whoever returned the form instructed Fintan to act as a guide, but he didn’t have the time to play nice. It would end with the entire day being wasted. There were only two days left of the [Tier] boost.

Cal’s relief at leaving the stuffy building disappeared when he saw the cheerful faces as they went about their day. He remembered the early reports of the near-complete destruction of Lumina before the core guild was attacked in his first life.

It wasn’t my original intention, but perhaps I changed the fates of these people.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

He lightly brushed his hand over his coat’s inner pocket. Bringing the rock into Lumina might not have been the best idea, but it was better than leaving it back in the Northern Wastes with the little beast.

Cal shook his head slightly and moved quickly. He ignored the busy streets of Lumina and forced himself to have tunnel vision of the Great Market. He passed a few shops that were of interest, but he currently needed to have a tight clutch on his pursestrings.

It wouldn’t do to start buying rune inlays and suddenly be short of money to pay for the farm upkeep.

He soon ended up in the line to enter the Great Market. It was fast moving—due to the nature of the basic security checks—and that was a thing he was very happy about. He went from the back of the line, fifty feet away from the entrance, to the front in less than a few minutes.

It helps that the mortals are exempt from the security checks.

“Hand,” the guard said in a bored tone.

Cal held his palm up, feeling a slight tingle as it was scanned.

“Initiate Cal. You are restricted to the first ten floors. You may pass,” the guard waved him in before turning his attention to the next in line.

Technically, I would be considered an Apprentice, but the guild doesn’t know about my [Tier] rank increase yet.

Cal thought it was funny—and depressing—that he had accepted the [Tier] rank increase with such nonchalance. It was usually a massive celebration that would have involved most of the core guild acknowledging his accomplishment.

Now, he saw that as a byproduct. A side effect of working to become a successful farmer and gaining high-ranked equipment.

That may change once I regain access to elemental spells.

Cal ignored the mortals packing the first floor and headed to the stairs, intending to go right to the tenth floor and buy the simulacra. Of course, plans never went exactly as intended.

… That smells so good.

He subconsciously licked his lips as he stared into the ninth floor. It looked—and smelled—like the dessert that Fintan was eating obnoxiously. Rather it was a part of the dessert, the custard. He wanted it.

“Stop blocking the path!”

Cal glanced behind him to see an unknown Initiate glaring at him. He accepted fault with a slight nod and stepped onto the ninth floor.

I need food anyway. It’s been close to five days since the last time I ate.

He made a beeline to the small stall. It looked like it only made this one dessert and nothing else. The ninth floor was filled with practically full-fledged eateries, so something like this surviving was a miracle.

Cal stood in the slow-moving line and looked for the price of the custard. He was surprised to find that it wasn’t listed anywhere on the stall. It was then that he noticed something.

Why am I being given strange looks?

“Farming Initiate Cal, how about I treat you?”

Cal almost jumped out of his skin in surprise. He turned quickly to see Fintan standing there like he belonged.

“When did you get here?” Cal put some space between them. It shouldn’t have been possible for the man to sneak up on him like this.

… Unless I was so focused on getting into the Great Market that I ignored the obvious.

“I was always here, Farming Innate Cal,” Fintan said guilelessly.

Cal pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long, drawn-out breath. “Fine, if you want to follow me, I don’t care. Just call me Cal, or I’ll lose my mind.”

“Er, alright,” Fintan looked at him as if he was the strange one. “It’s more informal than I would like, but your request is granted, Cal.”

“Thank you,” Cal resigned himself to have a tagalong as he turned to face the stall again. “And no, you don’t need to treat me. I can pay for myself.”

I’m getting the strange looks again.

“Are you sure?” Fintan didn’t let up. “It costs fifty silver for one Starfruit Custard.”

Cal had been about to deny him again, but his mouth snapped shut at the price. He looked away from the stall and observed the people in line. He hadn’t cared to notice before, but these all looked like followers of the Initiates in the core guild.

I would know. I had plenty.

That’s why he was getting the strange looks. They were wondering how Cal could afford this.

He didn’t know how much a [Farmer] got as an allowance from the guild, but with the comments of the Initiates in Mariner’s Rest, it was less than the Trainees.

A sufficient meal for an Initiate would cost nearly thirty silver a week, totaling around one and a half guildmarks in a year. It would make this Starfruit Custard unaffordable for anyone who wasn’t part of the core guild or had wealth from their family.

“Cal?” Fintan prodded.

He wanted to walk away. The embarrassment should mean nothing when he didn’t know any of these people. It would be worth the hit to his dignity to save the silver.

… I can’t.

“Don’t worry about it. As I said, I can pay for myself, Fintan,” Cal’s voice was steady. He would feel the pain of spending so much later.

I could have bought a hundred tools from Orrin for this much silver.

“So, what’s so special about this Starfruit Custard?” Cal asked, hoping the silver wasn’t a complete waste.

“It might be the most delicious thing I have had the pleasure of putting in my mouth,” Fintan almost drooled. “I must have eaten it once every day for the past week.”

Cal’s eyes flickered to him in thought. Three and a half gold spent in a week just of dessert. Fintan was a rich man. “Anything else that makes it worth so much?”

“Not really,” Fintan shrugged. “It just tastes good.”

He pressed his lips together to stop cursing and walked forward. He was next. “I’ll have one.”

Cal handed the stall owner the fifty silver and took the small bowl offered. He could see chunks of starfruit in the custard. It was a fruit known for its mana density, but he didn’t have hope it was enough to fill his needs since it was such a small amount.

He scooped a spoonful and tasted it. His eyes went wide. The next thing he knew, he was holding an empty bowl with a warm feeling in his body.

“Fintan,” Cal said, staring at the man feasting from his own bowl, “you didn’t say this dessert was enough to be considered a meal.”

“So?” Fintan had a spoon halfway in his mouth, his voice muffled around it. He had horrific eating manners. “Why is that important?”

“… Right.” Cal knew he had made a mistake in assuming that mattered to someone spending so much on dessert.

I also made a mistake thinking Fintan is arrogant. I think he’s just overly naive and spoiled.

“I forgot to ask, Fintan. Why did you want to act as my guide?”

Fintan glanced at him as he threw the bowl away. “I never knew a Farming Initiate could be in the Northern Plains and have it not be a punishment. I’m curious about you.”

I was right. He’s can’t be too self-important if he followed to learn more about me.

“And the form mentioned that you might need a guide. I decided I would be perfect for the job!” Fintan said proudly. “So, is there anything else you want to see? I’ll take you there.”

Cal blinked at the random reveal that someone had instructed Fintan to give him a guide. He pushed it aside since it didn’t seem worth considering if it could be so easily revealed.

“No need,” Cal shook his head. “I just need to get to the tenth floor. You can come with me if you wish.”

Fintan’s excitement dropped a bit, but not by much. Cal threw away his empty bowl and led him up the stairs.