At the southern end of Nyd, the streets narrowed. The road, paved with brick, was laid in a V-shaped pattern that gently sloped downward. Houses of all sizes lined either side—some leaning slightly with age, others standing proud with fresh paint. Children played marbles in the dust, and women gathered near doorways, gossiping in hushed voices under the late afternoon sun.
Down the slope stood a wooden house—two floors tall, made entirely of polished timber. Its roof slanted in a traditional style, not unlike the old houses in rural Japan. A small patch of bushes adorned the front, giving it a humble, welcoming look. The front door, placed slightly to the left, was made of oak and shined with recent polish.
"So that's the house for sale," Jay said, scanning the structure from the street. He folded his arms, head tilting slightly as he examined the details.
"You want to stare at it all day, or are we going in?" Han grinned, giving Jay a light shove from behind as the group approached the entrance.
Inside, the first floor had a central hall surrounded by four rooms. Two doors were on the left wall, one directly ahead, and the last tucked near the corner where the staircase wound upward. The bottom-left door led into the kitchen; the top-left opened into a bathroom. The door ahead revealed a cozy guest bedroom.
The top floor had three rooms—two bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, and one empty room at the back.
Scarlet stepped into the kitchen first. The floor creaked under her steps—soft in places, slightly rough in others. The walls were discolored from age but sturdy. A few cabinets hung on the upper shelves, and most basic furnishings were already in place. She noticed a slight dip in the far corner.
"Looks like the floor's sunk in a bit here," she murmured, crouching to examine it. "But I think Jay can fix it later."
Han and Jay were upstairs, checking out the bedrooms. The air felt a little dusty. The wooden floor planks looked aged, the varnish fading. The beds were small, enough for two people. Beside each was a drawer with a rusted oil lamp on top. Thick glass windows adorned the walls—slightly opaque but hinged.
"Oh! These can open up," Han said, fiddling with a latch.
Martha explored the empty room. Dust blanketed the floor, though its condition was better than the rest of the house. Something had clearly been there before—perhaps a desk or bookshelf. A narrow pipe ran along the right wall.
"That must be a water pipe," she said, running her fingers along the dusty wall. "Not bad."
Nana, meanwhile, peeked into the bathrooms. The floor sloped gently toward a drain—a style common in Eastern homes. There was a crystal-handled shower switch, glowing faintly turquoise.
"So… when you channel mana into this, the water changes temperature," she observed. Looking up, she noticed an old lamp resting atop a wooden shelf. "Ugh, that's too high for me to reach."
After thoroughly inspecting the house, the group regrouped in the central hall—the largest room of all. An old, cushioned sofa sat in the center, its fabric faded but intact. A few paintings hung crookedly on the walls. In one corner, chairs and a table were stacked haphazardly.
"I think that's the dining table," Scarlet said, pointing.
A crooked voice echoed from the doorway.
"Do you like the house?"
A man stood at the entrance. He wore a black leather suit, a patch covering one eye—lost, perhaps, during his time at war. He was the property agent sent by the Guild.
Martha sighed quietly.
"Yes, the house is nice," Jay replied. "A bit worn, but definitely livable."
"What's the rent?" he added.
"Seven silver a month, with one month paid in advance," the man replied, adjusting his tie.
The group exchanged glances, giving small nods. It was a fair offer.
Martha stepped forward and took the lead. She pulled seven silver coins from her pouch and handed them to the agent. He handed her a key in return and unfurled a few worn papers—terms and conditions of the lease. She signed them without hesitation.
"Congratulations on your new house," he said, tipping his head before taking his leave.
"We… actually rented a place," Han said, sitting on the edge of the sofa. His voice held a strange mix of surprise and happiness.
"Don't get too comfortable," Martha said sharply. "We've got cleaning to do."
And so the cleaning began.
Or more accurately, Jay and Han started cleaning while the others quietly disappeared.
"They played us," Jay groaned, scrubbing a window.
"Absolutely," Han muttered, wiping a shelf with a dusty rag.
Meanwhile, Scarlet and Nana were in the kitchen, preparing dinner with the salmon they'd bought earlier from an old man at the black market.
Scarlet laid the fish on a cutting board. With precise motions, she sliced through the ribs, smoothly removing the bones before cutting the fillets into neat, bite-sized pieces. She lit the oil stove—custom-built by Jay—and placed a steel pan over the flames.
"The Blacksmith Lagoon is truly amazing," Nana said, admiring the craftsmanship.
Once the pan heated, Scarlet poured in a bit of oil and laid the salmon pieces down gently. The sizzle filled the room. She sprinkled in pepper, sugar, and salt for flavor. As the pieces turned golden, she set them aside and tossed some chopped vegetables into the same pan, letting them cook in the salmon's oils. Sprouts came next, cut and sizzling. Then, chopped tomatoes went in, releasing a fresh aroma as they broke down. Finally, she added the salmon back in, letting all the flavors blend together. The mouth watering smell filled the house.
Once the cleaning was done, everyone gathered in the main hall to eat. Jay and Han were completely covered in dust. They quickly washed up and changed into their previous clothes.
They plopped down onto the chairs, letting out synchronized sighs of exhaustion just as Martha returned.
Before them was a marvel of a dish—crisply fried salmon, a glowing golden-brown with puffed, juicy flesh. The vegetables were tender, glazed with oil and gently steaming. The aroma alone made their stomachs grumble.
Martha placed a bottle on the table. Its glass shimmered in hues of silver and deep red.
Jay raised an eyebrow. "So that's why you went back to the market."
Beside him, Scarlet's eyes widened. "Hey! Nana's still too young to drink!"
Martha smirked and casually pulled out another bottle—this one orange, labeled with fruity markings. "Relax. This one's made from some good fruit juice." She handed it to Scarlet. Her eyes softened a little.
They poured their drinks—four glasses of wine, one of fruit juice. They raised their cups, clinked them softly, and drank.
"Cheers."
After they'd eaten to their heart's content, plates emptied like it never served, the most important topic came— who will sleep where.
Everyone suddenly looked serious. Atmosphere becomes heavy. No one wanted to share if they could help it. A heated debate followed— arguments, appeals to logic, and a few bribes involving chores.
After an hour, a resolution was finally reached.
Han volunteered to sleep on the old sofa downstairs. "I don't really like beds anyway," he mumbled, already eyeing the couch like a faithful companion.
Jay and Martha took the two upper rooms, both insisting they needed private space to "train" and "experiment."
That left Scarlet and Nana, who gladly agreed to share the spacious first-floor bedroom. Nana was more than happy—having Scarlet beside her was both comforting and fun.
And so, as night fell, the group finally drifted to sleep in their new home—for the first time in this strange world, they slept peacefully.
• • • • •
The night faded quietly as the sun rose, casting a golden blush over Nyd.
Han stirred first, arms stretching above his head as he yawned. "That was… actually a good sleep," he muttered.
Peeking through the window, he saw the soft morning light just beginning to flood the streets. The air was crisp, the heat not yet arrived.
After a quick cold bath—shocking but invigorating—Han dressed in the new clothes he'd bought cheaply from the black market. A frilled white shirt, covered by a light brown leather jacket with deep side pockets. Grainy brown pants with a sturdy black belt, and polished formal shoes completed the look.
He stepped outside quietly, locking the door and sliding the spare key back inside through a crack near the floor.
As he walked the early streets of Nyd, hands in his pockets, he observed the slumbering city. Stalls were still closed, smoke hadn't yet risen from chimneys. A few sleepy guards patrolled the stone paths.
"Market's still not open," he noted, glancing around idly.
But just as he turned a corner, his ears twitched. Two guards talking, one fat and big while other short and quite young.
He instinctively stopped and leaned closer. Eavesdropping was less a habit and more a skill now.
"Hey, did you hear about the mysterious disappearance of the King of Drognar?" said a fat man to a shorter companion.
"What?! A king disappeared? Don't tell me he ran away?" the shorter one replied, baffled.
"No, idiot. He was kidnapped. By some human with crazy powers."
"A single human?! You serious?"
"Yeah! They say the guy was insanely strong!"
Han's eyes narrowed. He didn't interrupt—he just listened.
"What kind of power did he have?" the short one asked.
"No idea. But there's one thing everyone keeps saying…"
"What?"
"His eyes… were bloody red."
Han's expression changed slightly. He backed away slowly, walking off just as the sun crested the buildings. For a moment, a thought flickered in his mind—Kazuki.
"…No. Can't be sure," he muttered to himself. "his eyes are not red".
But something was off.
• • • • •
Far from Nyd, hidden in an unknown region, there lay a decrepit lab—its walls cracked, overgrown with moss. Vines crept through shattered windows, and the scent of rusted metal and old chemicals lingered.
Inside, a lone man sat calmly at a rust-covered desk. He stirred his coffee, then added a few crushed leaves from a small tin—sweetening the bitter taste.
The wall in front of him was soaked with bloodstains and faded chemical burns. Yet, one phrase stood out—written in large, smeared letters near the top:
"The second one is an illusion."