Chapter 111 - 110 – A Date × Information
It did not take long before Fiona came out.
She was wearing a light jacket over the upper half of her maid uniform.
"Sorry for keeping you waiting... I’m ready," she said.
"It’s fine. You’re not really late. Let’s go."
"Where are we going?"
"To wherever you like. This is your city—you may choose the place," I said softly, then extended my hand.
The girl smiled and placed her hand in mine.
A short while later, we boarded a royal white carriage drawn by two white horses.
It was extravagantly luxurious.
Half an hour later, we arrived.
The carriage door opened, and before us stood two attendants dressed in red.
Both bowed.
Then I stepped down before the girl and lowered my hand for her.
In front of us, the place revealed itself.
"Are we at a palace?" I asked.
Fiona smiled and linked her arm with mine.
"No. A restaurant—for the upper class. I’ve always wanted to visit it as a lady."
"You are already a lady. Please," I said.
"Not yet," Fiona replied, pulling me along.
The path branched into several directions:
a wide red carpet leading toward the palace itself,
and three smaller carpets leading elsewhere.
I had no idea where we were heading.
I did not ask.
Asking might only expose uncertainty.
So I let silence remain over me, contenting myself with a smile as I followed her.
After a while, we arrived at an annex connected to the palace grounds.
A white door, half made of glass, stood before us.
A young woman waiting there greeted us, her eyes widening before she smiled warmly at Fiona.
It was obvious the two knew each other.
Of course they did.
Fiona had never hidden the fact that she once worked here.
We entered the annex.
The moment we stepped inside, sunlight flooded everything.
The walls were entirely glass, and the curtains had been drawn aside to let the sun pour freely into the interior.
I smiled.
"Why are you smiling?" Fiona asked, returning a pure, innocent smile.
"I was wondering why you didn’t suggest buying suitable clothes for a place like this... but it seems you already thought of that."
"Hahaha," Fiona laughed.
"Did you expect the lady accompanying you to enter wearing her work uniform? What would people say about you?"
"They would say their opinions mean nothing to me," I replied,
"because I brought my lady as she is, without the need for decoration."
"Then let’s go fix that," Fiona answered, stepping back as if about to leave.
I caught her hand and pulled her gently back toward me.
"It would be rude to enter without shopping first. Choose whatever you like."
Tilting her head with a smile, she dashed off excitedly.
I found a place to sit.
Dinner might last no less than three hours.
But I would let fate guide me and build my plans accordingly.
The information Fiona had given me was worth making her happy for an entire day.
And this palace...
Who knew what encounters fate might prepare within it?
If I navigated carefully and with measured thought,
I might find myself somewhere entirely unexpected.
And I meant the positive kind of unexpected.
If my plan to sell weapons in exchange for accumulation succeeded...
...it would be truly extraordinary.
Fiona had said they owned other shops that sold ordinary weapons.
In the future, I could bring weapons from the forge and display them there in exchange for accumulation.
That would create a certain advantage:
No one would ever know I possessed a weapon forge.
Everyone would simply assume I had immense wealth—
enough to buy weapons with money, then resell them for accumulation.
As for where the money came from...
I would eventually create some trade front or business cover using the primary vault as a facade.
For now, I needed to understand the city better.
"Sir," one of the attendants said respectfully.
"Yes?"
"My lady requests your presence. She wishes to show you her outfit."
I followed her to a curtained dressing chamber draped in white silk.
The attendant stopped outside and gestured toward it.
I stepped forward, parted the curtain, and entered.
"Ooh..."
My eyes widened in shock.
"What beauty," I whispered.
Fiona turned gracefully left and right.
She wore a long violet dress,
decorated with elegant black accents.
Her hair was now black and long,
falling like a serene waterfall over her half-bare chest.
Her lips were crimson—
sharp and fierce, like a cat poised for battle.
I smiled.
"Your hair is truly beautiful," I said.
"Sorry... the previous hair was fake," she said coquettishly.
"That’s alright.
Before, you were like the moon.
Now, you are like the sun."
Then I extended my hand toward her.
"Shall we go now?"
"Of course not," she answered.
"I still need shoes, a handbag, bracelets, and perfume."
Then she added:
"And most importantly—you too need an outfit."
She pointed toward one corner.
"There. You’ll find something that makes you shine even more."
I laughed.
But I went anyway.
This was a perfect opportunity to copy all these outfits and learn the fashion tastes of the elite.
After some time...
I finished trying on the selections.
The clothes truly looked luxurious.
Many of the suits seemed heavy and cumbersome from the outside,
yet once worn, they were astonishingly light and comfortable.
In the end, I copied them all.
Perhaps I should also find a place that sold combat clothing.
"Sir," one of the attendants called from several meters away.
I turned toward her.
She did not wait for me to respond before speaking:
"If you need any help or guidance, I am here."
I smiled.
"Thank you. I’ve already chosen. I’ll take this one—and wear it now as well."
I pointed toward my choice.
A long coat of deep crimson flowed behind like a royal shadow,
its black edges embroidered with delicate golden threads.
Its chest was reinforced with fitted armored fabric,
crossed by black leather straps fastened with gleaming metal buckles.
On the shoulders rested intricate metallic ornaments resembling noble insignias from medieval commanders.
Black leather gloves tightened around the hands,
while long boots rose to the knees,
bound with crimson laces like threads of blood weaving the wearer’s authority.
It was the perfect choice.
Not the most beautiful among them—
but the one I felt I must wear to wherever we were going.
After a while, I finished dressing and adjusted my hair.
I had not truly noticed before—
It had grown longer.
"Ooooh!" Fiona cried out from behind me,
while I was still distracted by the thickness of my hair and how it now fell heavily over my eyes—
Like some protagonist from those revenge dramas.
Perhaps I was one.
I narrowed my eyes bitterly.
Then quickly shut them.
A fleeting smile returned to my face as I turned around.
"You... look wonderful, sir," Fiona said in her sweet, spoiled tone, pouring a mountain of praise over me.
I smiled deeply.
Then it was finally time to leave.
"Why did you choose that outfit, sir?" Fiona asked.
"I don’t know," I said.
"I simply liked it.
We men are much simpler than you women.
I bet when you chose your dress, you were searching for something suitable for a restaurant—
and if you were going to a festival or a party, you would choose something entirely different.
For men, it’s simpler:
we wear what we like."
Fiona clung tighter to my arm.
"You’re right. Men really are simple."
"Yes," I murmured.
She might think I did not understand the game.
But I was a player.
Perhaps not a master,
but I played—
and with every move, my skill and level increased.
A simple, calculated exploitation like this was not hard to understand.
I might not be some unparalleled genius—
But neither was I a reckless fool too stupid to see what was happening.
Still...
That was fine.
Everything was proceeding according to my calculations.
"Here we are," I said.
We stood before more than six attendants,
lined before a gate over five meters high and equally wide.
Two extended their arms in welcome and guidance,
while two others placed their hands upon the gate handles.
The moment they touched them—
The giant doors opened effortlessly.
My eyes darted quickly, searching for some mechanism or device
that could allow doors of such size to open so smoothly.
I found nothing.
And Fiona gave me no time to investigate further.
She moved immediately, and I had no choice but to follow.
We walked together for no less than ten meters.
Then golden lights began shining from within the grand hall.
The only things that preceded the dazzling brilliance—
were whispers,
and the fragrance of perfume.
The moment we entered the dining hall—
I stopped.
All my senses flared violently.
Dozens of analytical assaults surged toward me from every direction.
"This hall..." I whispered inwardly,
"...contains many Lords."
"Do you like it?" Fiona turned toward me.
"Of course.
It feels more like a royal ballroom than a restaurant.
Everything here radiates elegance and status."
We moved onward in search of an empty table.
There were new attendants here—
dressed differently.
Each of them appeared powerful.
Their bodies emitted tremendous energy,
and they allowed it to flow freely without restraint.
That made sense.
Even if this was a restaurant for nobles and wealthy elites—
Order still had to be maintained.
At the far side,
one table stood empty.
We sat down.
Fiona sighed in disappointment.
"I wanted to be closer to the dance floor."
"It’s not far if we decide to go there," I said with a smile.
Again—
waves of analysis struck me.
I showed no reaction.
"Idiots," I mocked inwardly.
I was beginning to feel it more clearly now—
Hidden and visible eyes alike.
Everyone...
was analyzing everyone else.
Though outwardly it appeared to be a place for enjoyment, dancing, and conversation—
this vast hall,
with its towering gleaming white pillars,
was in truth more like a battlefield of analysis and unseen inspections.
I began looking here and there—
commenting on the shapes and elegant carvings decorating the pillars and walls.
I analyzed nothing except the architecture itself.
Meanwhile, the others continued trying to analyze me.
And enough repeated attempts would eventually yield results.
Analytical abilities were unlike ordinary attacks.
If they failed, they failed.
Unlike attacks,
which could accumulate pressure over time.
Suddenly—
One of the distinguished attendants approached me.
His uniform was white as well,
but it resembled combat attire more than servant clothing.
"Welcome, sir," he said, bowing respectfully.
Then he leaned closer and lowered his head toward me.
"If you would permit, sir..."
"My master asks whether you would reveal your rank."
I smiled.
"No. I cannot.
What I can offer instead is to leave—
if my presence causes misunderstanding for your master."
The attendant bowed once more.
Fiona remained silent until he left.
"Sir... are we leaving?" she asked.
"If that is what happens, then so be it.
Do not trouble yourself."
"Sir... can’t you simply give them what they want?" she asked.
I looked into her eyes.
The smile vanished from my face.
I gave no answer.
The attendant returned again.
"My master offers his apologies, sir.
Please enjoy your meal.
And if you honor us by staying longer—
there will be an important announcement."
He paused briefly.
"Perhaps... one that may please you."