On both sides of the road were vast fields of grain—golden wheat swaying in the wind. In the distance, a few windmills could be seen, their blades turning slowly. Farmers worked in the fields, some wielding sickles, others pulling plows with oxen. To Michael, the scene was like a historical picture, but to the people here, it was nothing more than an ordinary day.
Every eye seemed fixed on him. The people in the farmland looked at him with curiosity—perhaps because of his clothes.
Michael glanced down at himself—jeans, sneakers, and a plain T-shirt. His jacket was tied around his waist. He definitely didn't look like anyone else around here.
I need to change these quickly.
[Host, your observation is correct. Your outfit is generating unnecessary attention. In environments like this, blending in increases survival probability by 37%. Recommend: acquiring local clothing soon.]
"…Yeah, I figured." Michael sighed inwardly.
The city wall was massive, fifty feet high, built of solid gray stone. At its center stood a massive wooden gate, iron-banded, with armed guards standing on either side. They carried long spears in their hands and wore armor.
Michael walked and stopped in front of the gate. He saw people being questioned by the guards before entering the city. They checked the papers of two or three people and took notes of their belongings.
Michael saw this and asked the system whether he should try to enter or not, since he had no papers.
[Don't worry, host. They're just minor guards. Try convincing them. Easy enough for you.]
[An extra mission has been given.]
Mission: Convince the guards and enter the town
Reward: +50 EXP | +20 D-Coins
Michael exhaled. "Alright," he muttered. "Let's go screw with fate."
He took a deep breath and moved forward.
Two armored guards near the town entrance stopped him. They looked at him through the narrow slits of their helmets.
"Stop."
One guard came forward.
"Paper?"
Michael plastered on a weary expression. "Lost them," he lied smoothly.
The guard didn't move. "Entry is prohibited without identification. Also—your clothes. They're unusual. Where are you from?"
"From a faraway land. Too far for you to know. I came to trade, but bandits attacked me on the road and stripped me of everything."
"Hmph. Those bandits again…" the guard muttered, his voice muffled behind the helmet. "The Town Lord needs to handle this before things get worse."
Michael wanted to take advantage of this opportunity.
He clasped his hands, posture humble, voice carrying just the right strain of desperation. "Please, sir. I've nowhere else to go. I only seek to make a living. Tell me, good sirs—does the city not welcome honest commerce? Even a merchant with empty hands today may bring riches tomorrow."
The guard gave a heavy sigh, then shook his head. "Sorry, boy. No ID, no entry. Next time, try to bring your goods and papers with you."
Michael cursed inwardly. Tch, those bastards… But where rules exist, loopholes always follow.
He glanced around, then slowly reached into his pocket.
Let's try it. It should work. The one law that governs all worlds.
He pulled out some silver coins.
"Would… this be of any use? There are five coins here."
The guard's helmet tilted slightly, examining the coins. The two guards near the gate looked at each other and shook their heads.
A moment of silence. Then—they quickly took the coins.
"…Go."
Michael didn't wait for them to reconsider. He strode past the gate, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Bribery is everywhere, isn't it?
[Congratulations, Host. You have completed the Extra mission.]
[You gained +50 EXP.]
[You gained +20 D-Coins.]
Current EXP: 200/500 → 250/500
D-Coins: 649 → 669
He was happy to receive the reward.
It was too easy. People are predictable. They'll resist pride, reason, even pity—but not money.
The moment he stepped inside, the city roared to life.
Rows of shops lined the streets. Merchants shouted over one another, their voices filled with energy.
"Fresh mantis crab! Right from the River Bane!"
"Magic stones—three for a silver!"
"Fire charms! Wards off beasts and spirits—limited-time discount!"
The people were even more fantastical.
Some wore light leather armor, others long flowing robes. A man in a red cloak walked past carrying a staff topped with a floating crystal that pulsed faintly. A pair of adventurers passed by, laughing—one with a sword bigger than Michael's torso strapped to his back.
His fingers twitched. He wanted to touch everything. Ask about every item. Try every food. But he held himself back.
While feeling this excitement, Michael's stomach suddenly growled.
Right… I haven't eaten since breakfast. And that was… maybe 8 hours ago?
He looked around and spotted a small food stall tucked beneath a faded green canopy. Smoke wafted from behind it, and the scent hit him instantly—meat, grilled over charcoal, rich and smoky.
Michael approached.
The vendor was a stocky man with a thick beard, his apron smeared with grease. He turned skewers over an open flame, each piece of meat glistening with charred edges. He caught sight of Michael and grinned.
"Hey, you! Hungry, are you? I've got horned goat kebabs—fresh and juicy. I'll even give you a discount."
Michael's mouth watered. The meat glistened with oil, sizzling as it cooked. The aroma was intoxicating.
"What kind of meat is this again?" he asked, already leaning closer.
"Horned goat. From the southern highlands. Real tender. Just 5 copper per skewer," the man said with a smile.
Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver coin.
"I'll take one."
The vendor raised an eyebrow. "Silver, huh? You don't have any change?"
Michael scratched his head. "Nope…"
The man gave him a curious look. "You're not from around here, are you? What country are you from?"
"Ah, uh… it's a faraway place," he said quickly, waving a hand. "You wouldn't know it. I'm just really hungry right now…"
The vendor paused, then let out a hearty laugh. "Huh? Alright, alright. No need to explain. You're not the first foreigner I've fed."
He plucked a skewer from the rack, fat sizzling as it dripped onto the coals, sending up a burst of smoke and savory aroma. Turning it once more, he held it out carefully.
"Here. Fresh off the fire. Careful—it's hot."
Michael accepted it, the wooden stick warm against his fingers. He hesitated only a moment before sinking his teeth into the meat.
The flavor hit him like a punch—smoky, juicy, laced with some wild herb he couldn't name. His eyes almost rolled back. He hadn't realized just how empty his stomach was until that first bite.
Oh god… this is incredible.
He hadn't thought food from a medieval fantasy world could be this delicious—or perhaps it was simply because he was so hungry.
Still, even as he chewed, his eyes never fully left the vendor's hands, who was taking out copper coins from a wooden box and counting them—one, two, three…
Michael chewed slowly, watching. Not because he didn't trust the man—though he didn't—but because counting money had always been second nature to him. Numbers were more reassuring than words.
Finally, the vendor counted all the coins and tied them in a small cloth.
"Forty-five copper. Your change."
Michael took the bundle, felt the weight in his palm, gave it the faintest toss as if testing. Feels about right… He slipped it into his pocket without further fuss.
"Thanks," he said simply.
The man wiped his hands on his greasy apron, still smiling. "No, thank you! First-time customers are always special. If you liked that, come again, okay? My kebabs beat anything else in this market, you'll see."
Michael chuckled under his breath, tearing off another piece of meat. "We'll see."