After leaving the monotonous, poorly maintained desert highway… Phaga and the others finally saw a town before noon.
Hmm...
Calling it a town might be overstating it. Even compared to the rundown Canvas Street, the place before them was in shambles. The people's faces were drained of color—expressionless, hollow, as if they'd long abandoned any hope for the future.
Ruby rolled down the car window, curiously taking in the scene.
A tumbleweed drifted by in the distance, but no one even glanced at it as they hurried along.
An elderly man walked past and stepped on a cactus, yet didn't cry out in pain.
It wasn't because his straw sandals were particularly sturdy. Ruby zoomed in with her phone and saw the cactus had long since withered, its spines limp and soft—no longer able to defend themselves.
Of course. In a wasteland like this, humans barely had enough water to drink, let alone plants.
Ruby turned, bracing herself against the seat behind the Class President as she stood up. She stared down at him in disbelief.
"Class President, your family's clothes actually sell in the Outer Ring?"
Judging by what she had just seen, calling Outer Ring residents "pale-faced" might be too much, but they were certainly far from wealthy.
Even the cheapest coarse linen clothes—Outer Ring folk probably wore them new for three years, old for three years, and patched for another three.
"What you're seeing now are the ordinary Outer Ring residents, not the gangs. Let me tell you, the Outer Ring's got all sorts—from TOPS executives all the way down to beggars."
The Class President raised an eyebrow and shot a look at the naïve Ruby through the rearview mirror as he slowly drove, searching for a spot to park.
"This is Blazewood. If I remember right, it's under the Sons of Calydon. They got assigned a bad trade route this year, so things look pretty shabby... Want to eat here? If you don't like it, I can drive half an hour—to the Vanquishers. They've got money to burn."
"No need. Here is fine."
Phaga unbuckled his seatbelt, got out of the car, and closed the door.
"You've been driving all morning. Take a break."
"Oh? Showing concern for me now?"
The Class President stepped out and stretched dramatically, then switched to a mischievous grin. Leaning through the car windows, he bent over and said:
"What if Ellen gets mad? Phaga, would you stop Ellen to protect—Ow! Ow ow ow!"
Before he finished, the rear door suddenly swung open. Startled, he leapt back, but still got smacked by the door and hissed in pain.
"Serves you right! Nyeh!"
Ruby stuck out her tongue, grabbed the black-and-white plush, tucked it under her arm, and took off running.
A moment later, Ellen also stepped out. She shot the Class President a cold look and walked off without a word.
"Wow, what kind of attitude is that? Attempted murder of the Class President? I'm writing all of this down in my little notebook."
Clutching half his face, he pointed dramatically at Ruby and Ellen's backs, sounding half irritated, half theatrical.
"Alright, let's move. Hopefully, when you're negotiating with the Vanquishers this afternoon, your aura is still this... unique."
Phaga walked around the hood, patted him on the back, and motioned for him to follow the two girls and the pet up front.
"Hey, it's just business—I'm good at that. What's annoying is having to dig intel for you while doing business."
He rubbed his face for a moment, then let go, grabbed a bottle of water from the car, chugged it, tossed the empty bottle back inside, and looked at Phaga.
Phaga had asked to stay close to the Class President, posing as a project manager sent by his family elders to assist with negotiations. He'd selectively shared some intel with him.
The Class President had agreed right away—barely thinking it over.
Because of business ties, he had met Pompey, the Vanquishers' leader, several times. Pompey struck him as a grounded, straightforward man—definitely not the type to get entangled with shady city enterprises.
So as far as he was concerned, no matter how deep Phaga dug, there'd be nothing to pin on Pompey.
Which meant everything else was small stuff.
Just then, while Phaga and the Class President were talking, a voice rang out nearby.
"Hey~~~ What are you still talking about? We found a restaurant! It looks super fancy!"
Ruby stood not far away, legs planted wide, shouting at full volume while waving both arms.
The black-and-white plush sprawled across her head let out a sleepy yawn.
Hearing her, the Class President kicked off the tire and propelled himself forward.
"Come on, let's see what kind of place these girls found. Just hope it's not some kiddie meal joint."
Phaga chuckled and shook her head.
"In a town like this? No such luck."
The two walked over. Ruby was stomping impatiently at the entrance.
"Hurry up, you two! Seriously! Ellen's already ordering—how's she supposed to know what you want if you're not inside?"
"No need. I already told the staff to bring everything they can still make."
The lazy voice drifted over like a sudden cold breeze, making Ruby jump aside. She turned and finally saw Ellen behind her.
"Whoa—you scared me!"
Ruby pressed a hand to her chest, relief softening her face—until panic snapped back in.
"Wait—Ellen, you ordered everything on the menu? That's gonna cost a fortune!"
"It's fine. I'm not treating. Lucius is paying. Anyway—what's the situation?"
The Class President perked up too. Even if he wasn't paying, he was curious why she ordered so much.
Instead, Ellen crossed her arms, resentment flickering across her refined features.
"When I tried ordering Phaga's favorite dish, the store Manager rushed out from the kitchen and said they couldn't make it—no ingredients."
"I tried ordering a few others, same result. When I asked what they could make, she said it depended entirely on whatever was left in their inventory."
Ruby's expression went wild—eyebrows shooting up, every pore radiating disbelief.
"How does this place even stay open?"
Ellen shook her head and shrugged.
"No idea. She said they're closing for a while, and we might be their last customers before they shut down... Oh—here comes the Manager."
As Ellen spoke, she heard the door behind her open. She turned to see the Manager stepping out.
Phaga and the others looked over.
The woman approaching wore a revealing outfit, her skin a warm wheat tone. Her black hair was tied in a ponytail with an ethnic-style headband across her forehead, and two loose strands framed her face.
"Hello. I'm Kasa, Manager of Cheesetopia."
Kasa bowed and apologized.
"Due to a shortage of raw ingredients, we have to close early."
"My apologies—perhaps you won't become Cheesetopia's final customers after all."
"But..."
Not wanting to disappoint them, she quickly added:
"I just heard the Sons of Calydon are holding a funeral feast for someone. You might want to take a look."