I had no idea what time it was when I woke up, but it wasn’t by choice. The noise outside was impossible to ignore—it sounded like a battlefield. The rhythmic clatter of horse hooves echoed through the streets, blending with the chaotic shouts of merchants and townsfolk. Even from the first floor, it was loud enough to jolt me out of sleep.

  And then there was the smell.

  A rich, savory aroma drifted through the air, seeping into my room and wrapping around me like an invisible lure. My stomach clenched, letting out a low, hungry growl. My mouth watered instinctively as I imagined sinking my teeth into something warm and filling.

  It had been too long since my last proper meal.

  Maybe they served breakfast here. Hopefully, it wouldn’t cost too much.

  I got up and stared at the small hole I had made in the cupboard. Great. Just great. I was probably going to have to pay for that, wasn’t I? A frustrated sigh escaped me as I clenched my fists. I let my anger get the better of me again.

  I shook my head, pushing the thought aside. There was nothing I could do about it now. Dwelling on it wouldn’t fix anything. The only thing I could do was move on and do better.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped outside my room, the cool morning air brushing against my face. As I walked, I wondered where people washed up around here. I recalled seeing an area on the first floor that seemed to be designated for toilets, so I assumed that was my best bet.

  A new thought crossed my mind. What did people here even use to clean their teeth? Did they even brush at all? Hopefully, they did. The last thing I wanted was to walk around with disgusting breath all day.

  As I stepped into the toilet area, my eyes landed on an elderly man hunched over one of the sinks, brushing his teeth. His toothbrush immediately caught my attention—it had an unusually large wooden handle, and the bristles extended longer than any toothbrush I’d ever seen. The entire thing looked about as long as my forearm.

  Beside the sink sat a small white cylinder. Toothpaste? Or at least, this world’s version of it.

  I made my way to the sink next to him, splashing cold water onto my face as I mulled over my predicament. I didn’t have a toothbrush. That much was obvious. But did I really need one? As long as I had the paste, it should be fine… right?

  I casually lingered, waiting for the old man to leave, hoping he’d forget the paste and leave it behind. A few minutes later, he set his brush down on the sink and shuffled toward the toilet behind him, leaving the small white cylinder unattended.

  Perfect.

  I snatched it up and turned it over in my hands. Written on the side were the words: "Tooth Soap."

  Tooth soap? Well, that explained why the paste looked a bit different from what I was used to.

  "Sorry, old man. I promise I’ll only borrow this for today," I muttered under my breath as I twisted the container open and dabbed a bit onto my finger.

  Without a second thought, I started brushing my teeth with my finger. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing. The taste was strange—bitter, a little chalky, but not unbearable.

  After a few moments, I placed the white cylinder back on the sink, just in time for the old man to return. He barely spared me a glance as he picked up only his toothbrush and left, leaving the tooth soap right where it was.

  So… it was free to use?

  Lucky me.

  I made my way downstairs and immediately spotted Victor sitting alone at a table, quietly eating. His focus was on his meal—some kind of soup with a piece of bread in his hand—but as I approached, he glanced up at me.

  Curious, I asked, "Did you brush your teeth?"

  Victor's expression shifted, looking almost offended. "Of course I did." His tone was firm, as if the question itself was an insult.

  I smirked. "Did you use the public toothpaste?"

  He scoffed, shaking his head. "No way. I went outside and bought my own toothbrush and toothpaste. Didn’t care how much it cost."

  I raised an eyebrow at that. It seemed like Victor took pride in keeping himself well-groomed, something I hadn’t really considered before. He wasn’t just surviving—he was making sure he lived with some level of dignity.

  He asked me what I used for a toothbrush,

  I hesitated for a moment before reluctantly admitting, "My finger."

  Victor immediately recoiled. "That's disgusting."

  He shook his head, looking genuinely disappointed. "You need to buy a toothbrush after we go to the guild."

  I groaned. "Oh, come on. I saved money, and my teeth are clean!"

  Victor wasn’t convinced.

  I tried to defend myself. "I heard somewhere that brushing with your finger is actually good for your teeth."

  Victor gave me a look that screamed disbelief.

  Deep down, I had to admit… he probably had a point.

  Fine. I’d buy a toothbrush.

  My gaze drifted to his food. The soup smelled incredible—warm, rich, and savory. The bread in his hand looked fresh, soft on the inside with a crisp, golden crust.

  "Cheapest thing on the menu," Victor said, noticing my stare. "Five copper."

  Five copper? Not bad. At this point, anything edible sounded good.

  Deciding to get the same meal, I turned toward the counter—only to feel a small, familiar tug on my trousers.

  I glanced down and immediately recognized the young girl from before, her small hands clutching onto my trousers. She hesitated, her lips pressing together as if struggling to find the right words.

  Still gripping onto my clothes, she finally spoke in a quiet voice. "Did they… hit you?"

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  Her wide eyes searched my face, concern evident in her expression.

  I let out a small chuckle at her concern—it was nice to have someone worry about me for once.

  "No, of course not," I reassured her with a confident grin. "Don't worry about me. I'm actually pretty strong, you know." I said it mostly to ease her mind, hoping she’d see me as capable.

  She studied me for a moment before releasing her grip. "Was it my fault?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  "Not at all," I said, ruffling her hair gently.

  A small smile crept onto her face, and with that, she turned and dashed back toward the kitchen.

  I walked over to the counter to order my soup. The setup was simple—this wasn’t just a bar for alcohol, but also a place to order food. Customers had to provide their table number, pay upfront, and then wait for a server to deliver their meal.

  After glancing back at Victor’s table, I noticed the Roman numeral IV engraved on it. I told the bartender my order, handed over the payment, and then returned to my seat.

  A few minutes later, a waiter arrived with my food.

  At first glance, the meal actually looked pretty good. The soup had chunks of potato floating in a greyish broth, and a single piece of bread was placed beside it. As I took my first bite, a wave of warmth spread through me. The combination of the soft bread and the savory soup was perfect. I dug in immediately, savoring every bite.

  I glanced over at Victor, expecting him to feel the same. Instead, he looked like he was barely tolerating it. "You don’t like it?" I asked.

  He sighed, stabbing at his food. "No salt, no pepper. This is just hot water with a weird grey tint. The only thing saving it is the bread—it’s crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside. That part’s decent."

  I frowned slightly. "I think it's good," I said, taking another bite.

  Victor shook his head, a look of quiet disappointment crossing his face, as if he had expected me to take his side. But I wasn’t about to insult food—especially when it tasted fine to me. Besides, if Victor ended up leaving leftovers, that was free food for me. No complaints there.

  We ate in silence for a few minutes until I noticed Millio trudging down the stairs, heading toward us. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed—his hair was a tangled mess, and sleep still clung to his half-lidded eyes. Judging by his appearance, he hadn’t even bothered washing his face before coming down.

  As he sat down, I asked him the same question I had asked Victor earlier. "Did you use the public toothpaste?"

  I wasn’t expecting much, but part of me wanted someone to relate to—someone who wouldn’t judge me for brushing my teeth with my finger. It really wasn’t that bad!

  Funnily enough, Millio’s response was even worse than I expected. "I didn’t brush my teeth. Didn’t feel like it," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

  Victor and I exchanged looks.

  That was all the fuel Victor needed. He launched into a full-on lecture about hygiene, stressing the importance of dental care and how taking care of yourself reflected your discipline and character. Milio, to his credit, endured it for about ten minutes before he finally gave in. "Fine! I’ll go brush my damn teeth!" he huffed, stomping off.

  I called after him. "Just use your finger—it works!"

  Victor sighed heavily, clearly unimpressed but choosing not to comment. In his mind, even a poor substitute was better than nothing.

  Milio eventually returned, looking much neater than before, and went up to the counter to order the same meal that Victor and I had. To Victor’s shock, Milio actually liked the food.

  "You seriously like this?" Victor asked, staring at him like he had just admitted to enjoying raw dirt.

  Milio shrugged. "Yeah, it’s not bad."

  Victor pinched the bridge of his nose. "What kind of food were you eating before? If you think this is good, then I’m seriously questioning your past meals."

  That reaction all but confirmed something I had already suspected—Victor probably came from a rich household. The way he took care of himself, the way he criticized the food, even the way he spoke sometimes… It all fits the picture.

  He acted like an old noble stuck in a peasant’s world.

  As Millio finished the last bite of his soup, something unexpected happened—Victor actually finished his meal too. Not that I had been looking forward to his leftovers or anything… but still. A small part of me was disappointed.

  With breakfast out of the way, we all agreed to head to the guild and look for jobs.

  The moment we stepped outside the inn, the sheer chaos of the outer city hit us. The streets were alive with movement—horses clattered by, pulling carts laden with goods, while merchants shouted prices over one another, advertising fish, fabrics, and trinkets. The entire place pulsed with an endless wave of noise, voices overlapping in a never-ending barrage of sound.

  Thankfully, Victor seemed to already know the way to the guild, so Millio and I simply followed him. According to him, it was about a ten-minute walk from where we were.

  As we moved through the streets, something caught my attention—two fountains stood in the outer city, similar in structure to those in the inner city, yet they lacked the statues of gods that had been present before. It struck me as odd.

  Did they originally plan to have twelve statues instead of ten? Or had the last two been removed or never placed for some reason? It was strange, but not something I could make sense of at the moment.

  As we walked, I decided to share the information I had gathered about the Hunter Ranking System from the Third-Class Hunter I had met the night before. I explained that the guild operated on a ranking system, with Third-Class Hunters being one of the tiers—something we’d need to be aware of if we wanted to find work and advance within the guild.

  I also briefly mentioned the Eight Great Families, though I admitted I wasn’t entirely sure what role they played or how significant they were in this world.

  Victor nodded, appreciating the heads-up, while Milio remained indifferent.

  As we continued, something in the crowd caught my eye.

  A young boy with shoulder-length white hair was sweeping the entrance of what appeared to be a carpentry shop. His movements were slow, almost sluggish, and there was an exhausted, almost disturbed look in his eyes.

  It wasn’t hard to notice him—he stood out starkly, the only person with white hair in the entire street.

  It took me a second to recognize him.

  Lucian.

  I gestured toward Victor and Millo, and without hesitation, we made our way over to Lucian.

  As we approached, I lifted a hand in greeting. Lucian’s eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, his lips curled into a small smirk. He set the broom down, visibly relieved to see us.

  But before I could say anything, he lunged forward, grabbing me by the collar with an almost desperate look in his eyes.

  "Please let me join your group!" he blurted out frantically. "I’m done here—I want to go on an adventure! Please, please let me switch groups with you!"

  He started shaking me as if his life depended on it, his head bobbing up and down like a madman.

  "Calm… down…" I grunted, prying his hands off me and pushing his face away. His sudden outburst had drawn some attention from passersby, making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was.

  Victor, unfazed, crossed his arms and asked, "What happened?"

  Lucian let out a deep sigh before launching into his explanation.

  Apparently, after Niru had escorted their group to the outer city, he introduced them to the owner of this carpentry shop. The arrangement seemed decent—they were given free lodging and meals in exchange for helping out with chores around the shop. On top of that, they were even being paid for their work.

  I frowned. That doesn’t sound bad at all.

  Lucian continued, explaining how Sophie and Olivia were content with the setup. They planned to work here, pay off their debt, and then figure out their next steps from there.

  But Lucian?

  He hated it.

  "I don’t want to sit around sweeping floors and stacking wood," he groaned. "I want to explore! I want to fight monsters! I want to go to the guild!"

  Victor raised an eyebrow. "So you have gone to the guild ?"

  Lucian’s gaze shifted away for a split second.

  "…No."

  I narrowed my eyes on him. He was lying. It was obvious.

  I considered pushing the topic further but decided against it. Whatever his reason was, it was his business.

  In the end, we told him we were sticking with our own groups and wished him luck. Lucian looked disappointed but didn’t argue.

  With that, we left him behind and continued toward the guild.

  It seemed like Niru had taken good care of his group, unlike Theo—but oddly enough, I didn’t feel angry about it. Maybe Theo believed we didn’t need the extra support and trusted us to fend for ourselves, or maybe… he just didn’t care.

  As we walked along we reached the guild.