Micah left the Cube ahead of all his subordinates since he wanted a few moments alone when he absorbed the pol. He had considered investing it in his next plan, but Micah wanted to unlock his second page. His next business wasn’t something that had to be done urgently. But, on the other hand, his second page was something that could make future progress and endeavors proceed even smoother.

So, holding the pouch of alluring coins of pol, Micah walked through town toward Wither’s headquarters, where his private quarters were since he wanted some privacy. He didn’t think anything would happen, and Baldas had said he was the only one who could see the system aside from him, so he wasn’t worried that anyone would notice he was the Hell Restoration Project Manager or technically working for Hell. But it didn’t hurt to be safe.

Micah looked at the people in town as he walked. Understandably, most of them made sure to avoid him. He didn’t care about that. What he cared about was that change had begun to seep into the people.

It was far from obvious. But the town’s atmosphere struck Micah and made an impression when he first entered it, so he noticed the change. Though, it might also be because he was the catalyst of change.

The people in town would have stayed the same for quite a while if Micah hadn’t united all the groups of thugs and established the Cube Battle Arena. The worry of what Micah would do after uniting the town and the excitement of the battle arena urged the townspeople to talk. And to talk, they needed to move around and find people to talk with.

Potato Pot had more customers than could be counted on one hand for the first time in a long while.

Unfortunately, people who hadn’t had the fortune of taking part in the Cube’s grand opening went back to sleep after uttering the few words they managed to pull out of themselves.

But the fact that some of them had moved was proof that there was hope for the residents of Vanitapolis. Of course, Micah wasn’t hoping for the town’s restoration due to his magnanimity.

“I see you’re doing pretty well for yourself.”

Baldas interrupted Micah’s musings as he returned to Micah’s side, now that he wasn’t surrounded by other humans. Micah didn’t know what Baldas had been doing after he decided he didn’t want to be ogled by Micah’s subordinates and the others who were close enough to notice his existence.

But since he had returned so quickly, he couldn’t have been far away, so Micah guessed that Baldas was simply hanging around and waiting for Micah to leave his subordinates. Micah would have thought Baldas was lonely or returned so quickly because he was dutiful and diligent if it weren’t for the way Baldas practically drooled as he looked at the pouch of coins. Micah didn’t even want to question how Baldas could drool when he was nothing more than a flying eyeball with wings.

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Micah put the pouch in a pocket, away from Baldas’ sight. It didn’t help that much since Baldas still knew where the coins were and didn’t move his gaze away from Micah’s pocket.

“You’re going to lose your vision if you stare that hard. You know?”

“Nonsense. I can keep my eye open for days without worry.”

Baldas responded without even thinking about looking away from the juicy bulge in Micah’s pants. That much pol was apparently attractive even to Baldas.

“Hoh? So you’re planning to ogle my pants for days, then? And since I’m a gentleman, I’ll tell you what I meant with my previous statement. You’ll lose your vision if you continue staring like a fucking pug.”

Micah’s voice, infused with Persuasion, finally managed to startle Baldas into blinking and looking at Micah’s face instead. However, the threatening tone behind Micah’s last words and his glare prevented Baldas from meeting Micah’s gaze for more than a few moments.

“Ahem. Sorry about that. It’s just that I’ve been working on a deficiency since I helped you with your forced awakening.”

“Don’t you get pol from Hell for your work with the Project?”

Micah ignored Baldas’ attempt at pity-inducing puppy eyes and questioned his lack of pol.

“I do. But it’s not enough. However, if my generous, benevolent, amazing, capable, extraordinary manager was to share some of their wealth, this humble servant will be forever grateful.”

Baldas closed his eyes and turned to bootlicking and pleading as he did something similar to bowing. Unfortunately, his earnest begging fell on what could as well have been deaf ears.

“Not enough’ for what?”

“That’s….”

Baldas was reluctant to answer Micah’s question. Micah stayed silent.

“...”

Baldas cracked open his eyelid and whispered to Micah,

“This is the part where you say something along the lines of ‘Nevermind. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.’ And then proceed to give me some coins.”

Micah stared at Baldas for a few moments without changing his expression before he turned around and continued toward Wither HQ.

“You can come back when you’re clean. As a rule, I don’t hire or work with people who consume or use drugs, especially psychedelic or addictive ones.”

Baldas stared blankly at the empty air in shock as he processed what Micah had said. He blinked a few times.

“Hey! I don’t use drugs! Where did you even get that from?”

“Are you asleep?”

“No!”

“Then, why are you dreaming or trying to enact a fantasy?”

“I’m not! That’s how things are supposed to go! I plead a little, you don’t give in, then I mention something I’m not supposed to mention, and although curious, you let it go due to our deep bond, but you still hand over some coins!”

Baldas flapped his wings to catch up to Micah as he frantically tried to teach Micah how things were supposed to go in situations like what had just happened.

“Maybe you’re just delusional, after all. Do you think it’s possible to request a new assistant? Someone more reliable?”