The room was ...comfy. He relished how the ergonomic curves soothed his aching spines. Also, the soft bristle of the fur-covered top was a nice compliment.

Gingerly, he took the offered cup; porcelain white with painted red flower patterns, bringing it to his mouth.

"Thank you, Lyn. You are excused," The young woman, Restia, thanked the maid. The latter bowed as she pulled the silver tray to the bottom of her white apron before leaving the room, closing the door.

Nodding, he couldn’t help but let out a stiff smile, holding a sigh —thanking the maid for the distraction. After all, he did only let the liquid linger on his closed lips without insomuch drinking a drop.

While he wasn't that paranoid to the point where he imagined that there was someone out there who would arrange such an elaborate ruse, trapping a no-name, nobody likes him (and with such short notice nonetheless). It paid to be more conservative in trusting people. His experience in this world wasn't that stellar to afford otherwise.

"So, as you already heard from those boys, I’m Restia."

"Hello, miss Restia."

"I must thank you again for your help." His eyes were drawn to the top of her ponytail, sitting down at the half-staff of the chair. Was she really a thirteen years old?

"Oh, haven't seen a gnome before?" She smiled.

A gnome? He paused. Right... fantasy world.

"Oh! I-I'm sorry, miss. We only have humans from where I came from..,"

"...sometimes we have elves visiting, but not a gnome,"

That should do it, right? A little white lie. Because he swore he saw her eyebrows rose. Yet by the next blink, they had returned to their former stare — curved, smooth like nothing happened.

"I see."

"This is Ar'endal after all. Lots of races around," she followed after a beat. "When I first come here, my mentor didn't even tell me this place filled with a lot of tall folks like you! Had to commission a folding step just to get around!"

"Ah, I almost forget, here, take this."

She slid him sheaves of paper, yellow almost-brown in tint.

"Responsibility of being prepared?" he said, reading the title out loud.

"Yes, we're a dungeon town after all. We due for a break soon."

"...break?"

"Yes, terrible thing. The dungeon rumbles and spouting all kinds of monsters—We have to close the mine, the crystal farm, No more ores, no more crystal...”

“...people stopped getting paid.”

“All day soldiers running around, Hightown full of them."

"And you feel stupid, right? Weak. Helpless. Want to help but can’t. So all day you closed up in your home. Praying to her grace that they don't pass the first wall."

"One of the scouts clawed my friend grandfather's arm." She shook her head. "He used to be a great [Centenar], now he just retired."

"His comrades tried to get him an instructor job, you know? Friends at the army. They're loyal like that."

"But his arm can't even draw the lightest leatwood bow without pain."

"So now, he just sits on front porch, telling stories to neighborhood kids. The one who wants to listen."

"I'm so sorry to hear that..."

"It's fine." She smiled. "It's been a long time..."

"So this pamphlet..." Euca said, scanning the long paragraphs...

"Informed all of us what the town expects us." She nodded. "The one you just experience for example."

"So it's a drill?"

"Drill? What an odd phrasing."

"Here we call it preparing. Every sixth or seventh at the random bell, a high town officer would loose a carriage down on one of the markets."

"What?!" His eyes bulged, his voice rose. "Someone could get hurt!"

"They're not crazy, Euca,” she said. "Can I call you that —Euca? You can call me Restia. "

"...of course," he said. The young woman helped him so much. It'd be rude to refuse such a simple request. "Restia."

“Remember how you just stagger back with only few bruises?"

"...yes." Thinking back he found it indeed quite odd. The carriage was fast. As fast as a 60-70 kph car, but he only got a bruise. Nothing too over.

"They enchant [Soften Blow] on the carriages. It's only normal."

Was that? There was a buzz... A buzzing, a tingling behind her word. Mana. His eyes widen. He thought he—he misheard it. But it seemed every time a skill or magic intoned, he could felt the power it behooved. Was this the side effect of that place?

"If you lost your wares, your item broke, or something along that line. The town will compensate you. Only half of it and only until certain price. Since they also demand that you know better than not securing your item." She shrugged, breaking his thought. "Especially on sixth or seventh."

"So, the last-er..."

"Someone who gets up last. Someone who the least prepared."

"Ah."

"Normally, they must attend a class," she said looking at him, top to bottom. "...or pays a fine."

"But, you're a new-er. So they just give you a pamphlet."

"I see, thank you for explaining it to me, Restia."

"You're welcome."

Taking his cup, he faked drinking once more. It seemed all of this just a big misunderstanding, but what an odd custom this town had. Well, he still needed to do his business at the merchant guild so he better excuse himself.

"Restia, thank you for your hospitality. You're very kind. But, I really need to get going. I have an errand to do at—"

"—at the merchant guild right?" His body stiffed. What the... How did she know where he intended to go. Was she... Muttering the status again, he began scrolling when—

"—don't misunderstand, Euca," she said still smiling. "[Merchant Sense: Business Opportunity], I could tell if someone has a potential business with me."

"...business?" The back of his hand a touch far from pressing the invisibility skill. Intend to touch it. Yet even before he pressed it, the knowledge of the spell resurged on his mind.

He reeled, eyes widen. He knew the spell name, the spellwork, its diagram — its geometric patterns that represent the magic vested within the circles. The Circles that interconnected with each other whether by straight lines or curved loops. Paralleling or perpendicular to each other. Writing that was not alphabet.

One of them though, one of the characters in the innermost heart of the center circle and one on the outermost border of the most below circle, dimmed and glowed. Forming patterns. Beats. He knew that by intent willed, mana paid, and the word spoken, the spellwork would burst. Activating the magic.

Fear gripped him. He was not getting into that crazy place again! Just. Just no way.

"Aren't you interested in getting a house?" the gnome followed, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

“Euca?”

“Ah?”

“You want to buy a house right?”

"Yes, but—"

How did she know?

"I'm the property handler here at the merchant guild. We do small-scale brokering. Connecting people who want to sell with those who want to buy."

He was in the merchant guild? The merchant guild? Thinking back he remembered lines of people in the main hall outside. Crates and sacks packed beside some of them.

And he assumed this was her office. It seemed he was wrong.

"...and you sense that I have a business with you?" His eyes narrowing.

"Yes! And big one apparently, I just want to greet you when I see you walking down the Elm. But then preparing happened."

Pausing, he looked at her. Like really looked. So it seemed skill was not limited to evocation or conjuration. This, this looks like divination with merchant flavor.

Should he trust her?

She did not lie about the drill. And if this really the merchant guild…

Tapping his hand, he began "Yes, I'm indeed looking for a new house," Let stall for now.

"Great, I knew I wasn't wrong!" she said clapping her hand and jumped out of her chairs. "...with this, the annoying harpy wouldn't snag this month bonus,"

"...sorry?"

"Nothing!"

Taking a wooden something from under her chair, With a few moves, it changed into a ladder? No. A step. Her folding step. With it, she reached the third shelves from the floor. Taking a big scroll as tall as herself.

"Scoot over a bit," Euca nodded, choosing to stand instead. She spread the scroll wide, revealing what appeared to him as the map of the town.

"Now, here, here, and here, are the newest lots. I assume you don't want the house in the outer?"

Outer? Ah. That must be the lower side of the town. Outertown, innertown, hightown. Weird. Well, security was the most important, so... "...yes," he said, nodding.

"Now, inner have parts," she said, wagging her finger. "People like to pretend they don't. But they do. This house here for example is fifty steps wide, but is located near the smithing district. So while it's only two thousand, they're noisy."

"Okay..."

"This one here was near the main's stream, so it's good if you like to relax and fish."

"Around this green dot is the one-room options, if you have a job near..."

"For delvers, I recommend..."