Chapter 217: 220 Minjing, New City

…Alright, where to start? He thought.

Alone in the illustrious city walled by lined mountains, he looked around before beginning to walk around.

Let's go over what I know: angel coins seem to be the natural currency here. That means this world must've been built around this entire Armageddon event. It should be connected, then. That means there are probably equipment shops and functional blacksmiths that can provide items that fit our Systems. Beyond that, it sounds like there is a war going on between this kingdom and another, he thought.

As he walked around, he could hear murmurs of this war: most citizens didn't seem worried as they talked confidently about these "Eight Divine Kings" and how they were "absolutely invincible."

What caught his ear was the name of the kingdom that was at war with Scalyue–"Yinlong." Unsurprisingly, the people didn't have anything good to say about the enemy of their homeland:

"Did you hear?...Those Yinlong barbarians thrashed that village near the Bulue river."

"Such savages."

"It's because of them that the taxes have grown so high!"

He opted to eavesdrop by standing around talking citizens rather than asking upfront. Due to his nature as an assassin-class, his ability to pick up information was superb.

"Ah! Adventurer! You look quite famished!"

The words were pointed at him as he was passing by a food stand, though he was a bit put off by the seller's words as he looked at him.

"...Famished?" He said.

As he looked down at his own body, he didn't think he was particularly "famished" looking, but what the man was referring to was likely his pale complexion and the bags under his eyes that made him almost look sickly.

"Ah…apologies! It just seems like you'd benefit from filling your stomach–and I have just the thing to help do so!" The food merchant told him.

"I don't know…" He said.

Before he could turn forward again to move on his way, he was taken aback as what looked like a kebab of freshly-grilled chicken slathered in a mysterious, but enticing red sauce was held in front of his face.

"Ignoring the call of your stomach is a fool's errand!" The food merchant said.

"Huh? I'm not–"

Just as he tried to deny the man's words, his stomach growled as if contesting his own words instead. To this, the merchant, dressed in beige robes and a brown vest, smiled.

"...Fine," he sighed, "How much?"

The convincing merchant held his smile, "Usually a "Fire-Red Skewer" like this goes for two coins…"

"Alright," he nodded.

"But for you? One coin will do!" The man said, changing the price for him.

"Eh?...Okay, sure," he looked up at the man.

In his grip, he conjured one of his angel coins into his glove, handing it off to the man as the meat-on-a-stick was handed to him in return.

"...What's this sauce, anyway?" He asked, looking at the item. A quick sniff told his culinary-keen nose that it was something similar to duck sauce, having a sweet, tangy scent to it.

The man twirled his gray, whisker-like mustache with a small laugh, "--It's a trade secret! Though it's earned a nickname around the city!"

"And that is?"

"The 'Dragon Breath Sauce'!" The man informed him, holding his arms out as if unveiling the title of a mystical item.

It did leave an impression on him though, as it was a grand name given to a relatively harmless looking substance on the stick of meat, but he finally delved in and took a bite. There was a certain sense of excitement and curiosity bubbling within him, as a connoisseur of food and a passionate chef, food from another world definitely intrigued him.

And what met his tongue was certainly intriguing, at that.

"--!" His expression lit up.

It was a blast of flavor; sweet, sour, and a little spicy. Something like this perfectly suited his tastes and made him quick to take another bite.

"Ho-ho! I see it's to your liking!" The food seller laughed.

"...It's great! Seriously, do you sell this sauce…?" He asked, wiping a bit of the sauce from the corner of his mouth.

The man shook his head, "As I said: a trade secret, my friend! However, do feel free to stop by and get another whenever you'd like!"

It was somewhat disappointing, but he went on his way without getting the sauce or the recipe, finishing the sauce-lathered kebab before stopping.

"Crap…I should've asked him for some information…I got distracted," he mumbled to himself.

As he walked around the city, he kept looking around, catching sight of a player by mere accident. It was a tall, thin-built man dressed in azure leather and light chainmail; his dark-brown complexion and facial features were that of somebody from South Asia, specifically–India.

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[Player Recognized.]

[Mallan | Level 44]

Such a level put him on guard as he kept his distance, though the man didn't seem to notice him as there were hundreds of people walking that singular street in the bustling city.

Level forty-four? He's strong–I can tell by that look in his eyes, too: he's a lone wolf. Somebody that powerful and with that high of a level…I'd say the chances are high he killed other people to level up like that. Maybe not, but…It'd be best for me not to involve myself with him, he thought.

As he moved around the city, listening in to conversations of passing civilians, he picked up more information. People always have grievances to air with the state of the world, problems with their government, blind praise, and discussing rumors of the land; in that regard, he found it was no different than Earth.

He stopped in an alleyway to go over what he found out, thinking to himself.

Alright, he thought, it seems as though this entire world is composed of two "grand empires"--there are only two kingdoms that rule everything, and of course, they're both directly opposed to one another. That's just the nature of two kings trying to exist in one world, I suppose. "Scalyue", this kingdom, seems to be ruled by a child king, from the sounds of it. It seems a lot of civilians have their doubts about a leader who's barely graduated from diapers–can't blame them.

Though as he was stuck in his thoughts, he glanced to the side, finding a few player signatures registering in his vision:

[Players Recognized.]

[Terry | Level 20]

[Jon | Level 22]

[Rebecca | 20]

It was a group of three players who still wore white uniforms, though outfitted with some plating or chainmail, but they were clearly left stunned and afraid. There were some wounds present on them; scratches and such, and the look in their eyes was definitely that as if something was lost.

He thought about approaching them, but he knew from one look that there would hardly be any merit in doing so.

They're practically shivering. Lost and confused. I doubt they even have the slightest clue what's going on. Not that I'm much better, but I'm getting there, he thought.

"Hey! You're from Earth, too, right…?"

Even though he chose not to approach them, it seemed it didn't matter as he was suddenly spoken to by one of them: the level twenty, orange-haired man named "Terry."

"Level twenty-eight? Wow…" The one named Rebecca said, a meek-looking girl who was small in stature with brownish-black pigtails.

He was caught off-guard by them approaching him as he was trying to stay away from prying eyes within the shadows of the alley, but there was no choice now.

"...Yeah," he said.

The tall one with a shaved head, "Jon", stepped forward with his bottom lip quivering, "Please help us…! We don't know what to do! Everything out there is higher-leveled than us!"

Terry nodded his head in agreement with his companion, "It's horrible out there…We lost our friend. Not just that, we saw others get wiped out, too–there was this super high-leveled guy!"

"He was level forty!...I think he was called a "Winged General"..." Rebecca added.

Though all of them hounded him for help, it was aimless and desperate; it was clear they were devastated by the reality of the Tower and clinging to any support they could find.

Winged General? He thought.

He gave them the cold shoulder, leaning against the wall of the dark alleyway, "If you're that scared, just stay in the city."

"...But, we lost our coins…" Terry said, slumping down.

"Lost…?" He repeated quietly.

Jon added in, "It's nothing like before–seriously! There were these monsters that took our coins each time they hit us!"

This was all new information to him, but he still held his indifferent look as he turned away, "Find some odd jobs or pick your fights better. There were some monsters in the forest, north of this city, they were lower than twenty. The three of you should be able to handle yourselves there."

"But…!"

"I'm not looking to babysit anybody," he coldly said, "I've got enough to worry about. You should've used your time better before coming here."

Turning down the desperate three, he walked away, abrasively brushing past them as he left onto the street while they watched him with eyes full of despair.

"...You're scum! If we die…It's on you!" Terry yelled out.

"Scum!"

"Coward!"

Their words that lashed out at his back were unfounded, but he still felt them hitting somewhere deep inside, but he moved forward nonetheless.

…I can't worry about others right now. I have to find my friends and make sure we survive, he thought.

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