After a good few hours of hard work, the business rush seemed to die down a little by late noon, and a more festive mood hung in the atmosphere of the city. Drunkards held each other by the shoulders, singing and dancing together boisterously. It was extremely cheerful, and the sun hadn’t even fully set yet.

Mican was not interested in any of it, merely sitting with Harold in an inconspicuous corner of the square sipping from a mug of ale, observing the scenes around him.

Under the good mood of the festival, in the shadow of the light where nobody bothered to give any attention, the darker parts of the world came out in full view for the young man who was unaffected by the atmosphere.

Emaciated women of all ages were soliciting their services, tugging at the shirts of men and splaying themselves out in lewd, vulgar poses. They were using the business of the square to attract attention to themselves.

Gardeners and city workers could be seen being beaten into pulp by young masters who were clearly drunk. They were left lying in the alleys in between the stores, bruised, battered, and blinded by the cheerful young men and their goons.

Young girls were caught in the darkness, being forcibly scouted out by posh old men with their thugs who were very well dressed and obviously quite wealthy. In Mican’s mind, it could only be for horrible purposes.

The scenes seemed to be very common, seeing as to how the usual passerby would only spare them a mere glance before continuing along their way, off to sing and dance. Many of them did not even bother to look, the wealthier looking individuals completely ignoring the views altogether.

“This may be a strange question Harold, but are these sorts of scenes… common? You had told me that this place was a major city. I had expected something slightly different.” Nudging the man at his side, he gestured at the dark alleyways around the square.

“…Hurh? Do you mean to say you don’t know about the war?” The blacksmith slurred his words, clearly drunk.

“Err, yes. I had some circumstances.”

“See, Gaspereau isn’t usually like this, they’re just still recovering from the remnants of the war between two powerful adventurer guilds that broke out a little distance away from the city. Maybe around three months back.” He noisily slurped his drink before continuing. “Countless people died, and the breadwinners of many families were included. Such scenes are only common in circling currency throughout the city once again. It’s also the only reason the Casper Guard tolerate such sights.”

“A war a few months ago?” Hearing the term of adventurers, Mican was immediately intrigued.

“I don’t quite remember their names, but yes. They were pretty small, but they had quite a bit of power and influence, or something. Urgh, wait one second.” Slouching down in his chair, Harold gave a dry heave.

Fairly disgusted, Mican put down his drink and stood up, taking a random path and walking along into the city to digest his thoughts.

“Thanks for the help today, Mican!” A drunk shout sounded out behind him from the blacksmith.

The young man had seen the city from afar, as the caravan had walked up on it, and the city was really not that small. It was large enough to be classified as a city, but it was still affected that much by two meagre adventurer parties?

The thought was intriguing to him, and he knew he had to reclassify the sheer scope of power possible by adventurers in his mind. He paused for a second in his walk and took a glance up at the gargantuan dragon’s head in the sky. The thought of power beyond imagination excited him, and he had a strange feeling that it was in direct collision with him in his pursuit of meaning.

In spite of everything, Mican had to admit that the city did indeed appear quite beautiful. The street lanterns that had been prematurely lit gave the city a beautiful glow.

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The scenery put him in quite a decent mood, and he began humming to himself subconsciously. He was humming the tune of the opening to one his favourite anime.

It was something he often found himself doing when he was in a pleasant mood.

After a little bit more of walking, Mican’s stomach grumbled quite rudely. Looking up at the sky, he noted that it was way past his dinner time, and he turned back around to head back to the inn for a hot meal.

Walking ahead on one of the roads, he realized he had gotten quite sidetracked, but all he had to do was follow the noise of the festivities to be able to find his way back to the square.

On his direct left, a large alleyway stood in the darkness, its entrance alit by several street lanterns. Through it he could vividly hear the noise of instruments and singing, so without a second thought he began making his way through, walking into the darkness.

The alleyway was quite large and winding, intersected between several stores from several streets around the neighbourhood, but the noise guided him through smoothly.

“Ahh!” The music got louder and louder as he approached and following it he turned a corner to come face to face with a frightened and screaming woman.

The woman had clearly fallen onto the ground, her wrist gripped by pale and feeble arm of a young man. He was likely in his late teens, dressed opulently and surrounded by two robust men. His trimmed and meticulously cleaned nails along with his well-groomed hair showed Mican that he was clearly among the wealthier class in the city. It wasn’t only those, but his clothing was also a notch above everybody else, in terms of both colour and design.

Upon first glance, it was immediately obvious to Mican what was happening. The signs were clear, especially with the red blush of alcohol and lust clear on the wealthy young man’s face.

Giving the woman a glance, it was obvious as to why she was being assaulted like so. Even while dressed in plain worker’s clothing, she had a fairly beautiful face. She was small, cute, and invoked the protective instincts of any men that looked at her.

The woman was crying and screaming out softly. Multiple strands of hair were stuck to her face by her wet tears and her face was flushed in the exertion of trying to get out of the man’s grip, clearly in great distress.

With the cacophony of instruments, dancing, singing, and joyous festivities so close, the young woman’s screams and cries were only drowned out into the background noise, going almost completely unheard.

“Shut the fuck up!” Against such a moving scene, the drunk and wealthy young man only frowned and furrowed his brows, yelling loudly at the woman in anger.

His clear displeasure showed that her reaction brought him no joy, though soon after, his frown turned once again into a smiling leer. His face relaxed and grew further flushed as he licked his lips in obvious arousal. His eyes lost himself in the young woman’s body, ogling her up and down viciously.

The two men behind the young man stood in complete silence, one surveying their surroundings and one sticking quite close to him.

They were dressed in rugged clothes and light armor, muscular, tall, and imposing. Several scars from knives, burns, and stabs were visible on the exposed parts of their bodies.

From the way they acted and how tough they looked, it was obvious to Mican that they were bodyguards hired by the young man or his family, here to protect him.

“Hey, who are you? What are you looking at?” A gruff voice sounded out from one of the men.

It was from the man who was surveying their surroundings carefully. He nudged his partner upon spotting Mican who had turned from around the corner, and they both turned to face him.

Upon spotting the young man’s muscular body and his mean look, they immediately began squaring up, standing in front of the wealthy teenager and glaring at him menacingly.

Hearing the commotion, the wealthy man was distracted, looking off towards Mican’s direction with a blank stare, obviously extremely wasted. Seeing the commotion, the young lady immediately turned to Mican, her eyes desperately looking for any chance to escape the situation she had found herself in.

Her face lit up instantly as she saw the muscular man standing before her in the alley, facing the three men curiously. A few droplets ran down her face as she began tearing up, and a glint of hope shone in her eyes as she stared at the man.

“The fuck are you looking at, huh?” In response to Mican’s gaze, the larger of the two men stepped up, yelling out.

Mican gazed at him emotionlessly, his eyes blank and his body language passive. The scene wasn’t surprising to him, but he didn’t expect that he would encounter such a matter so close to the festival.

Ever since arriving in this new land, he had never once let down his guard. Be it with the strange environment, or the people. Where there was people, there would be conflict. Everyone fought only for their own interest. This was Mican’s long-standing philosophy that he had stuck to ever since he was young.

It was why he never interacted with anybody in his old world except Gerald, and it was why he was so confused about Melinda’s treatment of him, seeing as he had nothing to give her in return.

The two parties stared at each other for a bit, unmoving, but Mican ended up making the first move, walking towards the four in the alley.