He stood up. The hard lines of his face, etched by years of calculations and cultivation, softened considerably.
But this softness lasted only for a moment.
The next second, his gaze grew sharper than ever before.
In this cold, unfeeling Wizarding World, a place filled with transactions of convenience and slaughter.
Someone was thinking of you from across a vast distance.
That feeling... wasn't half bad.
'Since that's the case, I have even more reason not to lose.'
"Seventy thousand Magic Stones..." Allen touched his chest. "I'll accept this 'huge sum'."
He strode toward the fortress's materials exchange district, his steps more resolute than when he arrived.
"Jarvis, update the shopping list."
"Upgrade the 'Freedom's' armor coating by another tier."
"Also..."
Allen paused, his gaze sweeping over the crimson wasteland and volcanic ranges outside the fortress.
"Since I've taken the money, I should bring back a local specialty."
