'This is pretty good.'

Reivan nodded in approval as he chewed, a meat skewer in his right hand and a bottle of apple juice in the other. On his left side was the ravenous Helen, and on his right was Hector, who was quietly enjoying his juice.

The prince-in-disguise and his two friends were sitting on the edge of the fountain, enjoying their spoils. Hector bought nicely chilled bottles filled with apple juice for each of them, while Reivan and Helen managed to come out with all the skewers they could eat and then some.

"Mmm..." Hector licked his lips with a smile. "I always wondered what this juice would taste like, but never bought it since it was kinda expensive. Two lumens! Can you believe that? We don't even get to keep the bottle since we have to give it back!"

"It's in a pretty big bottle, so isn't it fine?" Reivan smirked. "Plus, you obviously like it too."

"...Well, I do like it. But still..."

"Hector, if what's bothering you is the price, then I say you should buy it. But give up if what's making you buy it, is the price."

"That's such a rich-person thing to say..."

Chuckling at his friend, who seemed to be developing the qualities of a penny-pincher, Reivan shrugged and went back to what he'd been doing earlier; people-watching.

Reivan's golden eyes — which appeared blue to most people right now — observed the droves of people milling about in the plaza. Some were tall while some were short. Some were young and some were old. Some looked like they were having the time of their lives while others looked as if they came to the plaza to sit around.

He took another bite of his skewer and leaned back, scanning the bustling plaza. The fountain in the middle of the square was the main attraction, but the numerous stalls surrounding it were just as lively. Vendors shouted out their wares, enticing potential customers to come and take a look as the smell of grilled meat, sweet fruits, and various spices filled the air.

But rather than the fountain or the stalls, Reivan was more interested in something else.

'Why are there so many attractive people here...?'

Aside from several people who were obviously foreigners — whom he couldn't quite judge since he wasn't used to seeing them — most people he could see were very good-looking. And even those who didn't have ideal facial features looked above average by Reivan's standards.

"Hmm..." Reivan's eyes narrowed as he examined a few people more thoroughly, to the extent that some of them even noticed his stare. Most of them just smiled while waving at him, or shrugged before going back to what they were doing.

"What's wrong with your face now...?" Hector raised a brow as he placed his bottle beside him.

"Nothing." The young prince shrugged. "Don't bother me for now."

"Wow. Fine. Geez... I was just asking..."

Upon closer inspection, Reivan noticed how healthy most people were — a fact that played a large part in their overall attractiveness. Their skin practically glowing with vitality. And they all seemed so happy too, their eyes full of life and hope.

'The exact opposite of how I was.'

Having lived in a hospital for most of his life, he was aware of what people who'd truly lost all hope looked like. Some of them would visit him, looking for someone with similarly dire health circumstances to chat with. Although few, several patients would come to see him just so they could feel better about their own health conditions, which were only a tiny bit less shitty than his.

Hell, Reivan had seen someone in despair every time he looked in the mirror.

And the people of Aizen couldn't have looked more different. They were all pictures of health. While people as tall and muscular as Jaggar the meat skewer guy and the hulking man who'd bumped into Hector earlier were rare, everybody looked as if they had a decent amount of flesh on their bones. Their skins were smooth, silky, and healthy.

All of which were evidence that they lived well.

'This... This is a good country.'

Reivan closed his eyes and breathed in the city air, which was a mix of all kinds of smells from various types of food and drink. A smile bloomed on his face as he listened to the hustle and bustle of the people around him, their energetic cries filled with happiness and—

"Hey! What the fuck!?"

The young prince's eyes snapped open as his smile turned into a frown.

'And I was in such a good mood too. Fuck, who the hell's cussing so loudly...?'

It didn't take someone with sensitive hearing like Reivan to easily locate the source of the yelling. He immediately turned to where the noise was coming from.

"Who the hell d'ya think you are, huh!?" A scrawny young man with dirty blonde hair shoved a much larger man. "What... Ya think you're better than me? I'll punch you into next week, motherfucker!"

In an unsteady stance that even a complete amateur like Reivan could tell was bad, the obviously drunk young man raised his fists. As for the other man, he raised his arms in surrender while backing off.

'The hell's wrong with this guy...? It's the middle of the day! Why are you so sloshed already!?'

The answer, surprisingly, came to Reivan very quickly. Right behind the man was a stall with a sign that said: "Arkhanian Wine Samples - Five Lumens per cup!". On the other side of the stall was a pudgy man who seemed to be a bit red in the face like the other two men that he was anxiously watching.

Hector's eyes widened as he watched with excitement. "Hey, hey... Are they gonna fight?"

Reivan gave his friend a confused glance. "Why are you so excited about this...?"

"It's not every day you get to see adults fight! Maybe we'll learn something from them!"

'Oh. I guess that kinda makes sense...'

Feeling curious, Reivan used [Supreme Insight] on the drunkard.

~^+— Unit's Statistics —+^~

Name: Modal

Species: Human

Realm: Mortal

Age: 19

Sex: Male

Special Abilities NONE

Might: 11 Extra Skills Elemental Affinities: None NONE

Favor: (Indifference) -3 / 100 Threat Level: N/A

'Yipes. This blondie needs to drink some milk.'

The young man was nine years older than Reivan. And yet there wasn't much of a gap between their Might stat. Even the man's threat level was nonexistent.

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"Calm down, brother." The large man that blondie had shoved earlier held his hands up, trying to pacify the drunkard. "I meant no offense. We're both from Arkhan, so let's just get along, eh?"

Reivan's eyes briefly passed through the man's thick, muscled arms. He knew by now that in this world filled with all kinds of supernatural things, muscles didn't always equate to strength. But the young prince was willing to bet money on the fact that if a fight broke out between the two strangers, the buff dude would absolutely stomp on the drunk guy.

'Well, just to be sure...'

Once again, he used [Supreme Insight].

~^+— Unit's Statistics —+^~

Name: Devran

Species: Human

Realm: Mortal

Age: 26

Sex: Male

Special Abilities None

Might: 41 Extra Skills Elemental Affinities: None NONE

Favor: (General Respect) 20 / 100 Threat Level: N/A

'Okay. It's not even a contest. This guy has more almost four times blondie's Might. It's over.'

They probably wouldn't learn anything either. After all, when one side was too overwhelmingly better than the other, the result would almost always be a stomp. There was nothing to be learned from watching people get absolutely wrecked — except what not to do.

Reivan also found it surprising that even this large man was not a threat to him at all. But after a second thought, with a Soul Armament, ordinary people wouldn't stand a chance since it added three hundred points to his Might stat.

"Hey, hey." Hector nudged Reivan with his elbow. "Who do you think will win? Wanna make a bet? I bet the big guy's gonna win!"

"..." Reivan scratched the back of his head for a moment before sighing. "Fine. I bet the scrawny guy will win. Let's bet fifty lumens. How's that?"

"Deal!"

While shooting a glance at his friend, Reivan couldn't help but pity him.

'Helen's probably eating all their pocket money away...'

With a glutton like her for a sister, Hector's wallet must've been in an unfortunate state most of the time. As such, Reivan didn't mind taking an intentional loss this time. His parents most likely wouldn't mourn fifty lumens either — though Reivan still wasn't quite sure how much a lumen was truly worth.

'And in the first place, I'm not losing money. I'm just giving it to one of my best friends.'

In his mind, it was just like giving a little sibling some pocket change.

Suddenly, Helen tapped Reivan on the shoulder. "Me too."

"What?"

"I wanna bet too." The girl repeated while holding a naked stick — the last remnants of a meat skewer.

"What are you gonna bet on?" Hector raised a brow. "Van and I already picked both of the adults."

Helen took a sip from her drink before replying. "No winner."

"So, you're gonna bet that it's a tie?" Reivan asked for clarification.

To that, the girl shook her head. "No winner."

"Alright..." Although he didn't really get the difference, Reivan nodded.

The three children's gazes then went back to the blonde drunkard and the large man.

Despite the buff dude's attempt to de-escalate the situation, the scrawny weakling didn't stop making a fuss. In fact, he was making such a racket, that quite a number of people stopped what they were doing to watch, forming a pseudo-ring around the two.

"God's damn it all." Blondie scowled before spitting at the ground. "Jus' cuz you're a lil' buff, doesn't mean you can steal my girl!"

'What the... so this was about a woman all along!?'

Reivan felt somehow stupid for being so invested in this conflict.

"I didn't know she was taken!" The large man said defensively, but the smirk on his face wasn't very convincing. "And I sure as hell didn't know she had such shit taste!"

"What the fuck did you just say!? I'll fucking end you! Haaaa—!"

Just as the scrawny man pulled his arm back, preparing to throw a punch, someone suddenly grabbed his arm.

Right behind the drunkard stood a lean, middle-aged man whose brown hair was mixed with stray strands of silver. His hazel eyes were like a calm lake as he easily brushed off the blonde man's attempts to resist.

'Oh?'

But what Reivan noticed about the newcomer first, was the fact that he was wearing some kind of uniform.

The majority of it was black with hints of a dark grey here and there — it looked just like the uniforms that the knights wore when they weren't donning armor. Reivan strained to make out the details of the attire, barely able to see that there was a golden wolf emblem adorning the right lapel of the jacket. The gold buttons on the front of the jacket shone in the light, providing a striking contrast to the black fabric. As for the pants, they were also black, with a thin golden stripe right down the sides.

It was a somber uniform, one that spoke of duty and discipline, and Reivan thought it looked really cool.

'What's with the gun, though?'

On the man's left side, attached to the belt, was a gun holster. And what else would be there but a gun? Specifically, it was some kind of revolver pistol.

'My ancestor really went wild when he was here, huh?'

While chuckling to himself, Reivan used [Supreme Insight] for the third time.

~^+— Unit's Statistics —+^~

Name: Nelsor

Species: Human

Realm: Mortal

Age: 168

Sex: Male

Special Abilities [NONE]

Might: 986 Extra Skills Elemental Affinities: None [Qi: Unleashed] [Intuition]

Favor: (Loyalty) 76 / 100 Threat Level: S+

'Well then. I guess the bet's decided.'

It didn't take a genius to realize that the newcomer worked for law enforcement. And that meant that no fight would occur under his watch. In fact, the gap in Might was so high, the two men wouldn't be able to hurt each other since even if they wanted to, the newcomer could restrain them in a literal instant even without using the gun.

Reivan couldn't help but chuckle as he shot a glance to his left, where Helen sat with a victorious smile. He sighed before taking out another skewer, preparing to watch the events play out.

Helen pinched his sleeve and pulled on it. "Hey. Me too..."

The young prince took out another skewer to share with the little glutton before returning his attention to the commotion.