To Artemis, this city felt almost as unfamiliar as when she first arrived.
The scenery was appealing enough on its own, but what caught her interest even more were the little street-side food stalls and their snacks.
"Miss, would you like to try one?"
As Artemis paused in front of a stall, the vendor eagerly promoted his goods.
Her nose twitched. The aroma of fried food was everywhere, and the one before her was especially captivating.
A thin layer of dough was fried to a golden crisp, constantly releasing an enticing fragrance along with rising steam.
All of this completely fascinated Artemis.
But she didn't carry any of the city's currency. At moments like this, she could only turn to Bell.
"Darling."
"How many do you want?"
"Three."
Artemis gave a daringly greedy number, and Bell—who was about to pay—paused. He leaned close and whispered.
"You're in a normal human body right now. If you eat too many potato cakes, you won't have room for all the other snacks later."
That single line made Artemis freeze, and her energy visibly deflated.
"This is such a pain… Fine, just one."
Given her current human-level body, she wasn't confident she could eat a lot without upsetting her stomach.
And today was an important date—she absolutely didn't want her body ruining things at a moment like this.
"Boss, I'll take two potato cakes."
"Coming right up!"
The vendor quickly wrapped two of the freshly fried cakes.
They were still piping hot, almost too hot to hold. But that was exactly why they needed to be eaten quickly—once they cooled, they wouldn't taste the same.
Bell handed over two coins worth one hundred Valis.
"Keep the change, boss."
"Uh, but…"
One potato cake cost eighty Valis. Not expensive—about the price of a basic beer.
The change would be forty Valis.
It wasn't much, but every coin mattered to a small food stall. Reputation was important.
The owner looked conflicted. He ran a modest business and didn't want rumors spreading about refusing to give change.
Bell simply smiled, shook his head, and gently took Artemis's hand.
"It's rare for me to go on a date with my girlfriend. I'd like a chance to look good.
"I don't have a lot of things, but I do have some money.
"And I don't want my girlfriend thinking I'm stingy."
Ah—young master from a rich family.
The owner glanced at the girl next to him. Yes—judging by her elegant, luxurious clothing, she was clearly someone who wasn't short on money either.
His intention to give back the change faded away. He accepted the two gold coins with a thankful smile.
"Thank you very much. Have a wonderful date."
Bell just smiled and led Artemis away.
After they disappeared from sight, the vendor happily put away the coins.
He ran a small business—every bit of income mattered.
Forty Valis wasn't much, but business grew from small amounts. And when it came to wealthy young men taking girls out, the vendor sincerely hoped more such big-spenders would show up.
"If more generous young masters like that came around, I might finally achieve my dream."
He allowed himself a brief moment of fantasy, then snapped back to reality.
People should be realistic—but a bit of hope for the future never hurt.
Artemis glanced back.
"Darling, why did you make such a strong impression on that owner?"
Bell had his reasons. He pointed upward.
"Guess how many people in Orario are currently looking for clues about me?"
"A lot, I'd imagine."
Artemis hadn't paid attention to the exact number, but considering the uproar earlier, she knew the gods of this world must already be in chaos.
"Exactly. A lot."
Bell nodded with a smile, then gave her the number.
"Three hundred and twelve."
"Since we walked out together, 312 people have looked at us more than twice. Probably just instinctive—our faces seem unfamiliar. And with the Familia Gods instructing them to 'watch the ones whose faces you can't see clearly…'
"They're subconsciously trying to confirm who we are."
The number made Artemis gasp softly.
"That many!?"
She never imagined walking out with Bell would attract that much attention, and she looked around uneasily.
"Are there still people watching us?"
Bell couldn't help laughing.
"So, Artemis—what do you think is more common in this city? Adventurers, or ordinary people?"
"Ordinary people, of course."
No matter what, Orario was still filled mostly with civilians.
Adventurers came from all over the world—it was a paradise for them, where they could gain anything they desired. But even so, once you accounted for housing, infrastructure, and adventurers' families, the majority of the city's population was still ordinary people.
Artemis blinked, then laughed as well.
"So they're treating us like ordinary people?"
"Exactly. Adventurers whose faces can't be seen clearly get special attention, but ordinary people with visible faces don't. (Money helps, too.)"
"You let them see our faces?"
Artemis was surprised.
"Not our real ones, of course. If they caught even the smallest inconsistency, they'd pounce on us like hyenas. I set up a barrier to distort recognition, but I gave them a normal-looking face."
Bell would never expose his real appearance—it was too dangerous.
A fake face was the safer option.
He'd reached the peak of concealment; there was no way ordinary adventurers could catch him.
"The gods assumed I wouldn't show up at all. And even if I did, they expected a blurry face they couldn't identify. So as long as they can see our faces—and we don't slip up—all their preparations are pointless."
Bell was the kind of person who made all his preparations before leaving home.