"Are you the mage from the Guild?"

"If you mean the Magic Consultant of the Adventurers Guild in Tata Town, that would be me. I heard the town’s defensive barrier needs maintenance, so I’ve come to assess the situation."

Before Mei Yige even entered the town, a short elderly man and a young couple stepped forward to greet her. Judging by their demeanor, they were likely the town officials.

Mei Yige took a quick look around. The streets weren’t clean—scattered rocks and yellow sand covered the ground. Everyone visible, including the three before her, wore face veils.

*[Sandstorms run rampant here…]*

Her silent observation was interrupted by the elderly human man:

"I’m the mayor of this town. To be frank, this mess is exactly what happens when the barrier fails. If it’s no trouble, Mage, perhaps these two could show you around first? That way, you’ll know how best to repair it."

Straight to the point. No nonsense.

Mei Yige felt an instant fondness for the old man. *A town elder is a treasure.* This place clearly thrived because of his efforts. She couldn’t refuse such a practical suggestion.

"That works. I’ll trouble you two, then."

After a polite nod to the nervous young pair, Mei Yige focused on the task. Sand barriers were just modified defensive arrays. Mining towns like this faced only two real threats: monster outbreaks or environmental sandstorms. Whoever had set up a barrier covering a thousand-resident town was no ordinary mage.

As she walked, listening to the mayor’s proud yet solemn recount of the town’s history, Mei Yige’s mind drifted to elementary school field trips back in her previous life.

"This is our memorial statue," the mayor said. "After the Hero came to our town to deal with the Demonic Beings, the mayor back then carved it. Proof of the Hero’s grace upon us, haha…"

Mei Yige stopped mid-thought. Her gaze fixed on the five figures. Her expression grew distant.

The sword-wielding Hero. The bow-bearing Elf. The shield-carrying vanguard. The eyes-closed Priestess. The nameless Mage.

"Did the Hero really come here?" she murmured, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "And why five people?"

"The Hero and her four companions fought the Demon King’s southern army," the young man escorting her said proudly. "Anyone older in town remembers. It’s only been thirty years—we haven’t forgotten our saviors. Without the Hero, River Opening Town wouldn’t exist today. This statue’s our symbol."

"The sand barrier was set up by that nameless Mage in the Hero’s party," the mayor added smoothly, testing her expertise. "The old Magic Consultant could only do basic upkeep. When real trouble hit? He was at a loss."

*So that’s your game.* Mei Yige’s earlier goodwill vanished. *Blatant distrust. Clever old fox.* She’d bet her staff this "tour" wasn’t about assessing the barrier—it was about pressuring her with the Hero’s legacy.

"A barrier crafted by the Hero’s own Mage must hold profound meaning," Mei Yige said lightly. "Altering it would disrespect that legacy. If I impose my own methods—even if I fix it—I’d be defacing your town’s symbol." She smiled. "I understand your concerns. I’ll build you a new barrier instead."

Ignoring their stunned faces, she clapped her hands and strode toward the barrier’s core. Her steps were confident, as if she’d walked these streets a hundred times. The trio trailing her exchanged bewildered glances.

"B-but—" the mayor stammered.

"Extra costs shouldn’t trouble a town that honors its heroes so deeply," Mei Yige cut in smoothly. "Surely preserving the Hero’s legacy is worth a little expense?"

Her earnest tone wrapped in unspoken moral pressure silenced the sixty-year-old mayor. Mei Yige nodded, satisfied. *The commission just doubled.* She never hesitated to profit—especially from Hero-worshippers.

*Now I remember why "River Opening Town" sounded familiar.* Thirty years ago, this was just a village called Kaihe. And that "sand barrier"? It was originally an anti-insect array. *Some "genius" must’ve rewritten history.*

*"...Thirty years. All those bastards are heroes now. Tch."*

She’d been the nameless Mage. Few knew her face—the Hero had called her their "secret weapon," ordering her to wear a mask so Demonic Beings wouldn’t recognize her. She’d believed it.

And when the King handed out rewards? That "secret" left her gravely wounded and unpaid.

"Mage, the core’s this way—not that direction."

"Ah, right."

The mayor and accountant hadn’t followed, too busy calculating the inflated bill. Only the Guild liaison remained. The barrier’s core sat in the Guild basement—a practical choice for maintenance. Facing her own shoddy thirty-year-old design, Mei Yige recalled a friend’s rant about legacy code:

*"These old systems are unfixable trash. Just when you find a solution? Turns out it was the boss’s masterpiece!"*

*Sorry, old Consultant.* She silently pitied her predecessor—and wisely ignored her younger self’s handiwork.

Watching Mei Yige press her palms together and weave runes with practiced ease, the Guild agent marveled. *A true master.* She hadn’t even needed directions—the basement felt like her own home. *This* was professionalism.

"Done. Have the mayor settle the installation fee. I’ve stabilized the old barrier too—consider it a keepsake."

"Of course. We’ll rely on you for future magical matters. Tata Town hasn’t received proper support from the capital yet…"

With only five staff—including this young woman—the River Opening Guild branch was understaffed. But the pay was generous. Mei Yige smiled and agreed.

Back on the street at 3 PM, few pedestrians braved the wind. Tumbleweeds rolled past half-closed shops, adding to the mining town’s desolation. Near the exit, a peculiar mailbox-like structure caught Mei Yige’s eye—a round slot instead of a letter flap.

"What’s this?"

"The Wishing Box," the agent explained. "It’s been here since the town was a village. People write wishes and toss them in. Some believe it works—it’s part of our faith."

"Must be quite effective?" Mei Yige mused. Simple customs like this made this world feel alive.

"Some use it to curse wrongdoers," the agent added. "If you write a sinner’s name and throw it in, they might face retribution. A good thing, in its way."

"Not bad at all." Mei Yige waved farewell. "This is far enough."

The newly hired mage walked off, effortlessly cool.

*"No ingredient requests in this town yet, it seems."*

Thirty minutes later, a golden-haired girl left River Opening Town, disappointed after finding nothing in the Wishing Box.