After a moment of silence between the two parties, just as the young master was about to speak, he was interrupted by the heavy thuds of boots stepping onto the ground, as Mican began approaching the trio in long and vigorous strides. His footsteps were firm and unwavering, slightly startling the two bodyguards.

He approached the two tall men with his back straight, and his shoulders broadened. His muscles almost seemed to ripple under his shirt as he moved, displaying the sheer amount of effort he had put into his body in an almost animalistic manner.

As he approached, the two men instantly stepped forth, standing in front of their employer side-by-side. The both of them gave Mican hard stares, their teeth showing and their brows furrowing into hard lines.

They were like a sturdy shield of made of flesh standing in front of the young master, strong and dependable.

The young master, sensing a threat even in his inebriated state, instinctively released his grip that had been on the young woman’s wrist. He stood behind his two goons, attempting to sober himself up.

He was clearly experienced with these sorts of situations, executing the action smoothly and in one swift motion. He gave Mican a fierce glare along with his men, but his thin body and flushed face didn’t convince even the timid young woman of his ability.

The woman, free from struggle, gripped her reddened wrist to her chest. She looked at Mican with a face full of hope, tears flowing out of her eyes.

The two men tensed up further and further as Mican approached, his muscular body giving them a bit of tension. They were not afraid of him, but they were evidently quite wary.

As Mican came within a meter of them, their fist began clenching, standing firm and ready for anything, but after a short wait, nothing happened.

The echoing sound of thudding footsteps came and quickly went. Mican passed them by.

A slightly confused look appeared on the duo’s faces, and they exchanged a glance, watching him thud away towards the festival square on the other end of the alley.

One of them gestured towards Mican, but the other larger one shook his head silently, merely going back to surveying his surroundings.

The drunk young master glanced his way before turning his attention back to the young woman merely a split second afterwards, his face full of impatience.

“Help me, please!” A frightened scream rang out, directed at Mican.

Pausing in his tracks, he turned around. The young man was slightly surprised by the situation.

Usually, victims of such incidents would barely even be able to talk, much less have the courage to cry out for help, and Mican applauded her for it in his mind.

Taking that step required bravery, as ridiculous as it sounded.

She looked at the young man, tears streaming down her face and wetting her working clothes. Her pitiful state struck a chord of sympathy in even the two bodyguards, who could not bear to look at her any longer, turning their faces away.

For Mican, though, it was not enough.

“What do you have to pay me with?”

“Uh… huh?” She gave a confused gurgle in response.

“I said, what do you have to pay me with?”

“I… I don’t… I can give you... Anything, so please, save me, please!” Upon realizing her situation, her voice grew louder and louder, shouting at the end between sobs. “

“I don’t want anything. If that’s all then goodbye.”

“I-I have money, I have a house I can give you as well, I’ll do anything, so please!”

A lie.

The woman clearly had nothing to give that was worth her life, only able to stare at the young man.

A lustful chuckle sounded out behind Mican as he turned around and began walking away, along with a muffled sob.

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As he was turning around, he caught sight of the gaze in the young woman’s eyes. The look she gave him almost made him pause in his tracks, and his gazed lingered on her for a split second.

Her gaze contained no malice towards the young man. It was devoid of hatred, and there was only sadness left in her eyes, awash with tears.

In this city that had been beat down, masked with the name of riches and fortune, cruelty had become commonplace.

This was nothing like Mican’s old world, where one would expect help from another as if entitled to it.

This encounter exposed the true nature of the world to Mican, a nature he had been expecting, one where the law of the jungle ruled. The weak had no rights, not even to their own lives.

Of course, Mican had been raised in a modernized world, so he completely understood the concept of helping others to better mankind in general, or as to be a good person.

But he was neither a good person, nor a hypocrite.

He understood the concept completely, but being a wealthy person in his old world, he understood the saying more than anything that ‘it was every man for himself’. It applied to both this world and his previous.

The young man continued walking, thinking to himself as he reaffirmed his principles. The lady clearly had no way to pay the debt of her life, and there was nobody watching for him to benefit off of it, so why would he help her? Mican wasn’t being a sociopath, but only realistic.

Of course, he could probably have saved the young lady, but what then? Would he be paid with her body, and in turn make a countless number of enemies from the ones backing the clearly wealthy young master?

Who knew how much influence he or his family carried, and Mican was not willing to find out. The young woman too, understood this well. It was was why her gaze carried no hatred.

He had only just arrived in this world, and he was not about to give up his search for meaning in his life for a mere moment of sympathy. Was he supposed to risk his neck for every struggling person he encountered like that?

Was he supposed to be a hypocritical isekai protagonist who did as he pleased without a moments notice to the meaning of his actions?

If there was one thing to blame in this situation, it was the world. Other than that, it was herself for being weak.

Being weak was a sin.

It was rightfully so in this strange world which seemed to be dominated by unimaginably powerful beings of individual strength. This sole factor of individual strength greatly changed the way this world worked in a fundamental manner, and the thought of it brought an endless amount of thoughts to the young man.

The words may have sounded completely unfair coming from Mican, since he had been ‘given’ overwhelming power, but so what? Was the world a fair one?

Even in his previous world, the rich ruled while the poor suffered, not to mention here, where the power of an individual mattered the most, and there were no laws protecting the weak. The only person that could save you in this situation was yourself.

The world wasn’t fair, and the wealthy young man in the back alley only proved it, tyrannically overwhelming the young woman as if there were no repercussions to his actions, and there probably weren’t.

While he continued to ponder, he didn’t let any of the thoughts show outwardly, keeping his steps firm and solid.

He never looked back even once.

In Mican’s old world, there was an old proverb spoken by a well-respected uncle. The old proverb was ‘With great power comes great responsibility’.

Mican had been wealthy himself in his previous world, able to pursue countless hobbies even while in school. He was experienced with what the power of money could do, and he knew of the horrors that it could bring, and therefore, he was decently familiar with the adage.

From the way that he interpreted it, the saying meant that if one had access to great power, it was their moral obligation to help those weaker than them.

Even in his previous world where society did not have any overwhelmingly powerful individuals, he had come to the conclusion that the proverb was a fairly silly one.

It was an admirable way of living, but not one Mican would ever even dream of following. For him, the proverb was idealistic, naïve, and foolhardy.

One’s power was one’s own, and they had the freedom to do whatever they wanted with it.

Walking out of the alley, the bright lights of lit lanterns and braziers greeted him. The sun had completely set by the time he came back, and the night covered the earth.

The wooden platform that had been set up in the center of the stage was alit with Poppy and her sister dancing in a clearly well-trained and elegant manner, dressed in colorful clothing. Their dancing was combined with their elder brother’s singing, creating a merry scene.

Two other caravan members sat on the stage, playing instruments which lightened up the atmosphere with a pleasant sound.

Drunkards hugged each other’s shoulders, singing and dancing along with the tune, despite in a much messier manner. The off-put vocals didn’t stop the festivities though, and it only served to create a cheerful atmosphere.

Laughter and noise filled the air, a world apart from the scene he had witnessed in the alleyway. The contrast left a bad taste in his mouth, and he was no longer in a mood to enjoy the festivities.

He turned away from the square walking to the inn to the left of him, but he was quickly interrupted before he managed to get very far.

“Mican, my dear.” A light and sweet voice called out to him from his right, sounding as if it was right next to his ear.

Turning around, he was faced with Melinda, sitting on a wooden barrel right outside of the entrance to the alley. She was bathed in the warm glow of the firelight. The noise of the festivities seeming to fade away with her voice.

She was facing him with her usual warm smile on her face, her legs swinging from the barrel relaxedly.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Mican.”

“Hm. What for?” The young man was curious as to how she had found him but decided against asking.

“Would you be willing to follow me for a while? I would like to show you something, related to my business.” The caravan leader brought her finger to her chin inquisitively.

“Will it be dangerous? Are there any risks or problems?

“None.” She smiled gently at him in response.

Nodding his head, he approached her curiously.