Outside the Tower of Babel, Central Park.
"Recruiting teammates? What's your level? What's your position?"
"Vanguard! Level 1, durability F-rank. Don't worry, I'm very professional."
Charles squatted in a corner of the park, two cursed weapons—one long, one short—hanging at his waist, and a cardboard sign propped up: Looking for Teammates.
The orc before him eyed him suspiciously. "F-rank? Where's the power?"
"H."
"Tsk. You're clearly a newcomer, just switched from supporter. Well, our team needs a porter. Want to join? Five hundred valis a day." The orc sounded disdainful.
"Thanks, but no thanks."
Charles didn't even glance at him. Around the park, many groups were recruiting temporarily, most seeking supporters or applying as supporters themselves.
Compared to this kind of inefficient, hit-or-miss free recruitment, paying the guild to publish recruitment info might be more effective.
Unfortunately, after leaving the Soma clan, he'd spent his last valis on a small cup of divine wine. After a sip to ease the craving, he'd resisted drinking the rest.
Yet that only made the itch grow worse.
"Ugh."
Charles touched the cold test tube of divine wine, his mouth trembling, body shaking.
He forced himself to resist. The feeling was like cleaning your gun but never going to battle—the more you clean, the more restless you become, and the more restless, the stronger the urge to...
The more he thought, the more overwhelmed he felt. Like cleaning a gun that's about to explode, while a teasing sister-in-law taunted:
"Touch me? Dare you?"
"Dry…"
Minutes passed. Most early-morning teams had already entered the dungeon maze. His chance was slipping away.
Just as Charles was about to give in and gulp down the wine…
"Little brother, what's wrong? Hungry? Try my cooking."
The tempting aroma and golden skin of the food caught Charles's attention.
He looked up to meet a pair of kind eyes.
"Eat these fried potato balls. Sister's treat."
Charles swallowed hard, grabbed the oil paper, and took a big bite.
He hadn't had a proper meal since yesterday. In the dungeon, he'd relied on drinking to maintain energy. Canoe and the others hadn't shared their breakfast.
To Charles, this was just junk food—fried potato balls wrapped in taro and oil—but at this moment, it shattered his craving and filled him with warmth.
Seeing him eat quickly, the shopkeeper's sister prepared two more pieces and handed them over.
"Alas, even children have to work hard to enter the dungeon and make money in this world…"
Charles smiled. "How much? I'll pay."
But when he checked his pockets—empty.
He looked up awkwardly, meeting the shopkeeper's crescent-moon smile. She pointed to her stall, with a sign that read:
"Share delicious food and bring smiles to your face! potato Balls, the city's new source of vitality!"
"Here, share the delicious food, little brother. Your smile is the best reward."
The shopkeeper was a little plump but genuinely charming when she smiled. No wonder fried potato balls were so popular in Orario, once competing with Bell as the real male protagonist!
Perhaps people simply missed the little happiness it brought in the city's darkest moments.
Charles stood by the stall, savoring the fried potato balls with focus. Each bite brought precious warmth in this cold era.
Perhaps it was fate that he met the world's only true protagonist here.
While eating, he pondered how to get some money to tide over his difficulties…
Suddenly, an "ah ah ah ah" sound came from beside him.
Charles turned his head. His vision seemed caught in a dream.
An elf-like girl, as if stepped from a painting, stood before him.
About nine years old, with golden hair shining in sunlight, crescent-shaped lashes fluttering, and her small mouth puffed as she chewed fried potato balls like a hamster.
She wore a slightly loose blue combat uniform, armor over chest and waist, shoulders deliberately bare, revealing delicate young skin. Beneath the light-blue skirt was a matching miniskirt, and black tights led down to pristine white combat boots.
Leather leg rings connected to combat packs on her legs broke the youthful look, lending a subtle hint of allure.
Charles had to sigh for the designer's aesthetics. The outfit avoided showing undeveloped cleavage but infinitely magnified her girlish beauty. Even in his past life, this would be considered fashionable.
Charles's gaze was obvious.
The girl noticed it immediately.
She glanced at the fried potato balls in his hand with golden eyes, then returned to her "business."
In her opinion, people who like potato balls weren't bad.
Her name was Ais Wallenstein.
The current record-holder for fastest level 2 upgrade, the "Sword Princess" doll girl. Though young, in elf- and god-filled Orario, her doll-like beauty was undeniable.
But Charles didn't care about that.
With his current strength, if he leveled up in a dungeon around the 7th floor, he could improve rapidly. But with a strong companion, he could venture to the mid- or even lower floors—and use the [Crispy College Student] blood-locking ability to kill level 2 or 3 monsters with potential abilities more efficiently.
His only worry: If seriously injured near death, no one would drag him back. Beyond his skill range, he might die suddenly.
But here stood someone—a puppet ignorant of the world—delivered right to his door.
"Hey…" Charles spoke, catching Ais' attention. She blinked curiously at the strange "potato friend."
"Hello, young lady. Excuse me, need a supporter?"
Ais held a potato ball in her mouth and tilted her head.
Charles smiled warmly like the sun and pointed to his sign.
"Confusing? It's simple. A poor supporter wants to share profits with a noble adventurer, so here I am, selling my services."
"Miss?" Ais paused, chewing softly.
Is that what you're wondering?
"Uh… you look strong, but calling me a lady doesn't fit."
Ais was nine. Though Charles was thin from malnutrition, he looked about the same age.
"Supporter? Usually it's Riveria…" Ais muttered.
Charles counted on his fingers, selling his pitch:
"Supporters bring spare weapons—no forced adventure-ending due to broken gear."
"Oh…" Ais' lashes fluttered.
"Plus, lots of fried potato balls. No more dry rations."
"Oh…" Ais' eyes widened.
"And I help fight monsters and manage spoils. You get at least 50% higher combat efficiency and kill more monsters."
"Ooooh!" Ais gasped.
"Secretly, sister, our clan developed a potion that instantly boosts strength! If things get tough, we drink and return safely!"
Charles pulled a corner of "holy wine" from his pack. Sunlight made the clear liquid glow mysteriously.
A divine creation, pinnacle craftsmanship, beyond human intelligence.
"Oh oh oh!" Ais grabbed Charles's black robe with small hands, refusing to let go.
If I team up with him, I won't have to pause adventures for weapon damage. Riveria promised an "indestructible" weapon, but it's not here yet.
And the supplies are fried potato balls. Can I stay in the dungeon several days?
A journey Riveria would never agree to—but this brother might make it possible.
Plus time to refine magic stones, and… a potion to grow stronger! A deeper dungeon…
Most important: anyone who likes potato balls can't be a bad guy.
The troubled girl declared silently:
I want to be stronger! Still too slow! I need more time, more monsters, and to defeat them all!
Rebellious fire lit in Ais' eyes. She was ready to embark on an expedition anytime.
"Let's go!"
A small but strong hand grabbed Charles's wrist and dragged him toward the dungeon entrance nearby.
"Wait, do you have weapons and supplies?"
"Wow!" Ais froze, eyes wide. As if to say: Isn't that the supporter's job?
Charles scratched his head. "Ah, well… do you have any money?"
Ais obediently pulled a cloth bag from her backpack.
Charles counted. About 50,000 valis.
"Well, enough for two weapons."
"My valis were confiscated by Riveria." Ais confessed honestly, like a child whose New Year's money was taken.
"Wait…" Charles interrupted again. "If you're staying overnight, you must prepare dry food and healing potions."
"Okay." Ais handed over the valis without hesitation.
Charles bought two bags of around 30 from the potato ball stall, then said:
"Let's pick two spare weapons at Weapon Babel Tower, then restock potions before we go."
"Yeah." Ais nodded and followed.
Unbeknownst to them, a hooded Palum girl carrying a huge package watched from a distance.
"So… it can be done like this?"
-End Chapter-
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