Before ten o'clock, Michael and Rick were already back home. Rick had talked bullshit nonstop the whole way, but once he hit the bed, he fell asleep — probably because he'd eaten too much and was completely exhausted.
For Michael, that was a relief. During that time, he went to the nearby grocery store and bought several items he planned to sell later in Albham. Though, truthfully, that wasn't his only reason for going there — he had another purpose in mind. But he didn't find what he was looking for.
Though it took him more than an hour, by the time he returned, it was already past eleven. Rick was still in a deep sleep.
Michael took a deep breath and got ready to travel to the other world.
[Portal opening to Eldravia…]
[Dimensional Energy Consumed: 5%]
The moment Michael stepped into the portal, it snapped shut behind him.
Albham — Inn
Without hesitation, Michael switched outfits using Think Mode — the system's faint shimmer ran across his body, replacing his casual clothes with Albham clothes. Then he crouched beside the bed and opened his Pocket Warehouse, pulling out a plain brown duffel bag. Inside were the items he'd prepared to sell today. Pulling things out of the pocket warehouse in front of others would only cause unnecessary trouble, and he hated unnecessary trouble.
After slinging the bag over his shoulder, he approached the door. The chair and the copper on it were still there — exactly as he'd left them.
He nodded slightly, reassured that no one had tried to enter his room.
Michael moved the chair, pocketed the coin, and then opened the door and came downstairs.
There was quite a crowd there now. Since it was morning, many people were having their breakfast. But to Michael, it all felt unnecessary — he could easily go the whole day without eating anything.
"Ah, little merchant."
Michael turned at the sound of her voice. The silver-haired elf stood there, balancing two trays of steaming food, her violet eyes glinting with that same playful sharpness she always had.
"Ah, hi," Michael said, giving a small nod. He tried to act casual, but his gaze had already wandered elsewhere.
The elf followed his line of sight and smiled knowingly. "Ah, so that's what caught your attention."
She tilted her head slightly toward the girl Michael had been watching — a young waitress, maybe sixteen or seventeen, nervously trying to serve food without spilling anything. Her hands trembled as she placed plates on the table.
"She's new," the elf said, her voice lilting with amusement. "Joined this morning as a part-time maid. Poor thing's shaking like a leaf. I told the owner she's too young for this crowd, but… well, they don't listen."
"Oh, I see," Michael replied with a small nod. "Guess that means a little less work for you, huh?"
"Maybe," the elf said, flashing a sly smile. Then her tone softened. "Anyway, why don't you sit down for once? I'll bring you some breakfast."
"Oh, no, that won't be necessary. I've got a lot to do, so I should get going. See you later," Michael said politely before walking away.
The elf watched him go, her smile fading into a curious frown. Hmm, strange… doesn't he ever get hungry? Ever since he arrived here, I haven't seen him eat a single meal.
A customer's voice suddenly pulled her out of her thoughts. "Ah, coming! Your food is here!" she called, hurrying off with the trays.
...
After some time
Scene change:
★★★
As Michael approached his stall, he was met with a surprising sight — a massive crowd. More than a hundred people were gathered in front of his stall, pushing and murmuring restlessly.
[Host, it seems your products have drawn a lot of attention. If customer interest keeps rising like this, you might complete this mission well before the time limit.]
Michael felt both pleased and uneasy. The excitement was good — business was booming — but the worry came from what he already knew. The bigger his success, the more enemies he'd attract. The elf woman's warning about the Market Ring echoed in his mind. By now, those merchants had probably started to dislike him… and soon, they'd make a move.
As he came closer, people began muttering among themselves. The crowd pressed in tighter, voices rising with impatience. Michael barely had time to set up before hands started reaching for his goods. He tried to calm them down, but his modern products had already stirred too much curiosity — too much desire. People were shouting over each other, and within seconds, the entire scene turned chaotic.
He couldn't control it anymore — not the customers, not the crowd, not even his own stall, which was on the verge of being overrun.
[System Recommendation: Construct temporary order barrier — crowd control feature available.]
Before Michael could react, a commanding voice cut through the chaos.
"Step back! Make way!"
Heads turned instantly. A man in armor was striding toward the stall, and his very presence made people back off. A dark blue cape hung from one shoulder, the city's crest stitched in silver thread along the edge. Two soldiers followed close behind, their hands resting casually on their swords — not threatening, but enough to remind everyone who they were.
Within seconds, the noise faded. Even the most impatient customers quieted down. Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"It's Captain Darius…"
"Damn, the city guard's here."
"Keep it down — he doesn't mess around."
Without hesitation, the Captain and his men began helping Michael restore order.
"Form a line! Move back, or I'll start clearing the street myself!"
His firm, commanding tone worked instantly. The mob shuffled backward several steps, forming an uneven but functional queue.
Captain Darius turned toward Michael's stall. His face looked like it hadn't smiled in years — composed, unreadable, but not unkind.
"Who's in charge of this stall?" he asked in a stern voice, though his eyes were already fixed on Michael, who stood there like an obedient peasant.
Michael quickly raised a hand. "That'd be me, sir."
The Captain gave a curt nod. "We have received many complaints about you."