Wilona arrived at the town of Lower Reedham with a confused look on her face. She didn't try to hide the fact that she was weirded out by the sudden... happiness that the town was experiencing.

  Which is kind of weird, right? Like, all of them were doom and gloom before this, and it's not like all of them accepted Rottie's existence around their town either. A lot of them were scared of the living dead, an understandable reaction since some of those living dead had the same faces as their loved ones.

  With that being said, Wilona couldn't help but feel that something was off as she walked along a clean, well-maintained street.

  Oh yeah, sure, it got repaired some time back, but being fixed and looking like the streets of Italy are two completely different things! Or maybe the more accurate comparison would be to say that the place is like France?

  Wilona squinted. Eh, no. France had a different vibe altogether, but Italy also had towering stone buildings that, like, reached up to the second floor?

  It’s the streets. Right. Wilona put everything else aside and just focused on the streets — which, by the way, now looked like they belonged in some sleepy Italian town from a tourist brochure.

  The square bricks that made up the roads gleamed under the sunlight, clean enough that you could probably eat off them without a second thought. Even the little lines between the bricks were spotless, not a speck of dirt, not a hint of grime. It was almost unnatural. And the sidewalks? Yeah, same deal. Smooth, pale stone slabs laid so perfectly that not a single weed dared peek through the cracks. Whoever was in charge of maintenance around here deserved a medal. Or an interrogation.

  The buildings were practically brand new. The old, weathered walls that used to be stained with age and soot now looked freshly plastered and painted, with colors that were too crisp to be real. The windows sparkled — actual sparkle — like someone spent hours polishing each pane until it caught the light just right. Any part of the houses that wasn’t glass was now pristine, honey-colored wood, polished to a shine so flawless it practically glowed.

  And the people. Oh, the people. Wilona squinted at them, half-expecting to catch some forced, teeth-gritting smiles, or maybe a twitch here and there that hinted at barely contained dread. But no — they were actually smiling. Laughing, even. Talking to one another like, you know, actual normal people with actual normal lives. No lingering fear in their eyes. No darting glances over shoulders. It was weird.

  She sniffed. Wait — is that… is that bread? Freshly baked bread? Seriously? The rich, warm scent hung in the air like it was clinging to her clothes, thick enough to taste. And now that she was noticing things, the usual stench of boiling leather from the vats at the edge of town was gone too. Completely gone. She hadn't realized how constant it had been until it wasn’t there anymore.

  Holy shit.

  How much had this town changed? It didn’t feel like a fantasy world at all anymore. It felt… safe. Familiar in a way that was kind of unsettling. Like someone had taken a grimy, half-dead medieval settlement and copy-pasted it into some idyllic resort town where nothing bad ever happened.

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  Wilona had only been gone for what? Three days? And somehow the town changed so much in such a short amount of time? She would have called the entire thing suspicious if Rottie had told her something was going on with the place, but he didn't.

  The next thing that Wilona did, naturally, was to find Phocles to get answers and, as always, the old man was inside his humble little home, doing whatever it was that old people do in their free time.

  Wilona knocked, and the door opened to a relatively well-dressed Phocles. The old man didn't seem all that tired lately, but right now he was glowing in happiness. He wore a crisp vest and a pair of woolen trousers, the croc-like slippers on his feet completed the entire retired father look he's got going.

  "Hey..." Wilona waved. She almost wasn't sure how to greet the old man. She shook her head. Why in the hell was she hesitating? "So like, what is going on around the town? Everyone seems so happy and the place is clean?"

  When Phocles only looked at her in silence, Wilona thought she stepped on a social land mine and quickly backtracked. "Okay, I'm sorry, I know that I should be happy and everything but like, I find it super suspicious you know? What's going on?"

  "Where do I start..." Phocles trailed off, he blinked and laughed. "Why are we talking here? Come in!"

  Wilona followed the old man inside his home and comfortably sat on the chair she always took whenever visiting. His aide was currently cleaning in another room, so it was just the two of them. "Well?"

  "Well, yes, hm. I believe that I told you about the nobles coming to visit this place?"

  "Yep, and also the guy from that magical school for necromancy." Wilona nodded. They didn't seem like a big deal. And like, she already expected something like that to happen, it's not like the local government or king or whatever was going to let a new dungeon exist unsupervised, right?

  "Yes, that. Well, Hew Dorric's family has sent workers to repair the town, which has now been officially titled as Lower Reedham, making us represent this region as a whole." Phocles sounded giddy as he explained that part. "And after arriving, they got to work immediately. Starting with fixing and cleaning the streets and, after that, checking the local bakeries and butcher shop if they were up to the standards of the crown."

  "I'm sorry." Wilona made the old man stop talking. "Let me see if I heard that right — health inspectors came here?"

  "Is that what you call them?" Phocles hummed. "I see. Then yes, health inspectors came here to check whether or not the local food sources were up to the crown's regulations."

  "Well, are they?"

  "Most were. Thankfully. The health inspectors have given them money as starting capital and as well as several sacks of flour and salt. They said that it was an investment from the Dorric family."

  "Which is superbly rich." Wilona muttered. Guess merchants will be merchants at the end of the day. Will they start buying out local businesses, she wondered.

  "Incredibly so." Phocles agreed. "What they did for the town cost nothing more than mere pocket change compared to the riches that the Dorric family holds."

  "Scary." Wilona leaned back, tired. Ugh, guess capitalism was about to hit the local economy. Not that it's a bad thing but like, eh? "Well, I guess I'm also planning on doing the same thing..."

  "You were planning on improving the town?"

  Wilona gave Phocles a side glance. So he read it that way, huh? And guess she thought out loud just now. "Sure."

  What Wilona meant by that, naturally, was her amusement park also being centered around capitalism. Sort of. Rottie would be the one who would profit most from the place, so the price would be souls instead of money, but there was also going to be tens of thousands of Ryllae going around the amusement because it would go bankrupt if it didn't.

  "Anyway, so they sent workers here?" Was that a bad thing? Like, obviously not, right? Why was she so worried? Wilona straightened as an idea popped up. "Wait, can I hire these guys after they're done with, like, the town?"

  "Possibly?" Phocles mused. He didn't seem against it. Huh. Weird. Why? Why was she thinking of this again? "I do not know what you would pay them with, but I believe that they are more than willing to work with the master of the local dungeon core."

  "Uhuh," Rottie isn't really her minion though, and she isn't his master. They're working together because of mutual trust? Maybe? What was she thinking of again? She eyed Phocles...

  "... Aren't you scared that another noble is coming here? And one that's like, more influential than you too? Aren't you gonna get pushed aside when Hew comes?"

  "I do not mind. I want to retire regardless. My sons can build their own lives here without worrying about leading the town as well. The money that I got for my title was a lot, after all. Enough to make us all live happily for the rest of our lives."

  "Wait, you sold your title?" Wilona frowned. "Why?"

  "It was the correct decision," Phocles smiled.

  "Well, if you say so." It's not that Wilona trusted Phocles more than some unknown noble, because she didn't. She could work just as well with the ones from the capital. The only real problem that she had was that they're merchants, and well, Raha and his group were too.

  Was Hew Dorric and his wife gonna end up being a pain in the ass after all?