Outside Bedford City, a carriage bearing the emblem of the Adventurers' Guild descended gracefully from the sky.
The winged horse folded its mighty wings, and the moment the wheels touched down, the coachman hurried forward to open the door.
"So soon? We've arrived already?"
The voice was aged yet brimming with vigor. An elderly man stepped out, dressed in refined attire. His thick, graying hair flared out like a lion's mane, and though his expression seemed casual, he radiated an intimidating presence that commanded respect without a word.
Taking out a golden pocket watch, he checked the time.
"Two hours earlier than expected. Hmph. The guild probably hasn't even prepared the welcome ceremony yet. Let's stroll through the city first—I hear some interesting things have happened recently."
"Mr. Sid, I think—ugh—I think we should—ugh—head to the guild first…" A strained voice followed as a capable-looking woman climbed—or rather, crawled—out of the carriage. Her complexion was pale, and every few seconds she suppressed a dry heave.
"Considering your position, ugh…"
"Gina," Sid said sternly, "for my assistant to suffer from motion sickness is disgracefully unrefined. I order you to rest in the carriage."
"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't insisted on speeding through the sky," Gina muttered bitterly, clutching a tree trunk as she retched before forcing herself to follow.
No matter how miserable she felt, she couldn't leave this old man to wander the city alone. He was bound to cause trouble if left unchecked.
The moment they entered Bedford, a vibrant wave of energy washed over them.
Adventurers of every race, shape, and size filled the streets in an unending flow. Steel and leather armor clinked and rustled with every step. The noise of the crowd was constant, amplified by magical loudspeakers blaring shop advertisements along both sides of the road. To hold a conversation, one practically had to shout.
Most people moved briskly, but it wasn't the weary march of workers heading to labor. No—their faces were lit with anticipation, eyes sparkling, lips curled into eager smiles.
Whatever they were heading toward, it was something they truly looked forward to.
Which meant it definitely wasn't work.
"Were there always this many people here?" Sid's lips never moved, but his voice reached Gina's mind through telepathy.
"According to headquarters, since the Sein Dungeon mutation, the number of adventurers staying in Bedford for more than three days has nearly doubled—and it's still climbing fast." She flipped through her notebook, her professional tone returning.
"Especially after the so-called 'Gourmet Zone' was discovered last week. Merchants across the kingdom smelled profit and have been flooding in nonstop."
"A week ago, eh…" Sid stroked his graying beard.
"Count Philip converted an entire commercial street into a specialty market for Gourmet Zone goods. Would you like to take a look?" Gina asked, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
"Count Philip's instincts are as sharp as ever. To pull off something this grand in mere days…" Sid sighed in admiration. "Yes. Let's go see this market."
The moment they arrived, both of them froze.
Hanging from a wooden beam at the entrance was an enormous roasted pig, radiating waves of heat. Its body dwarfed normal swine many times over. Though clearly long dead, it still exuded warmth—and an intoxicating aroma that seemed to seep into one's very bones.
Anyone entering the gate would first be struck by its sheer size, then overwhelmed by the fragrance that followed. Only then, tracing the smell back to the beast itself, would they truly grasp the meaning of this "Gourmet Zone."
"Was this pig slaughtered and then roasted… or…" Gina's eyes widened. "Was it… born cooked?"
Sid stepped closer, but a man who seemed to be the market's manager quickly blocked him. Spotting Sid's refined attire, he spoke politely.
"This one isn't for sale, sir. Merely for display. If you'd like a taste, please head inside."
Sid nodded, pointing toward the beast. "Which chef prepared this? To perfectly roast such a massive piece of meat… I'd very much like to meet them."
The manager's eyes lit up, and he answered with a proud grin.
"Ah, you must be new here, sir. That explains it. This wasn't roasted by any chef at all."
Sid frowned.
The man savored the pause, clearly enjoying the moment. He had seen this reaction countless times, and every time it gave him a sense of superiority.
"It was born this way—cooked from the moment it came out of the womb."
Born… cooked?
Even as they walked deeper into the market, Sid still couldn't wrap his head around it. How could a creature be born roasted? Unless… some sort of elemental existence?
"Sir, look over there," Gina's excited voice snapped him from his thoughts. "Everything here is… unlike anything I've ever seen before."
Sid almost scoffed. I was raised in the royal capital—what could possibly surprise me?
But when he turned toward the stalls, his steps faltered.
Fish with octopus tentacles, trees sprouting skewers of steaming meat, willow branches dangling with soba noodles, lobsters glittering like gemstones…
Damn. He truly had never seen any of this.
Scanning the stalls in desperation, he finally spotted something familiar—a confectionery stand selling sponge cakes.
At last. Sponge cake. Surely this was safe. Surely this had nothing to do with monsters.
Sid strode over. But just as he was about to speak, his keen eyes caught sight of something disturbing inside the shop.
A lion-like beast carcass hung from the rafters. The plump shopkeeper was calmly slicing its mane with a knife. But the mane wasn't fur—it was square, spongy, and unmistakably cake.
Don't tell me…
He glanced at the sponge cakes on display. His mouth twitched.
They were pieces of that mane.
"Hello there! Care to try something?" the shopkeeper greeted warmly.
"I'm just… looking," Sid muttered before quickly leaving. The truth was, he wanted to taste it—but his pride would never allow it.
"Sir, try this," Gina said cheerfully, handing him two skewers of golden-battered fried treats that looked like potatoes.
"Potatoes? No… the smell—"
Sid bit into one, and his eyes went wide. "A pork cutlet?!"
The texture and flavor were unmistakable—premium fried pork cutlet.
"I thought the same," Gina said between bites. "But I saw it myself. They pulled this straight out of the ground. A potato—already fried when unearthed. Isn't it incredible?"
Sid stared at the skewer in his hand, his worldview trembling on its foundations.
Even the most deranged alchemists couldn't imagine such monstrosities.
And all of this… all of it came from the Sein Dungeon?
They wandered on, nibbling as they went. The market was hastily built, yet surprisingly well-equipped, and the sheer variety of goods made it impossible to leave.
Then Sid noticed a stall unlike the rest. It was bare, save for a single tightly sealed box.
The vendor—a young man with black hair and dark eyes—sat lazily behind it, arms crossed, half-dozing. A rare sight in this bustling place.
Curious, Sid approached. "What are you selling?"
The youth rubbed his eyes, glanced up, and answered with a lazy drawl:
"Rainbow Fruit. Just a small piece."
Then, after a pause, he added casually:
"It's expensive. Want it?"