"Hey hey hey, youngest guild master in history—you’re seriously heartless! Ignoring Haina and that other girl’s duel like this? They’re fighting over you! Even I, Halway, a down-on-my-luck noble brat, can’t stand your cold act."

"Shut it, Halway. Down-on-your-luck noble? Take off that earring, leave the guild, and maybe—just maybe—a blind person would believe you."

Halway’s ancestors were indeed nobles of the Leo Kingdom. But by his generation, the title was revoked. His bloodline was noble; Halway himself just had rotten luck—born right as his family lost everything.

Haha!

The guild members burst into laughter at Alan’s words. Their young guild master often dropped witty zingers—sometimes infuriating folks, other times leaving them helplessly amused.

Like just now: only a blind person would buy Halway’s story. Meaning anyone with eyes knew he wasn’t some tragic noble.

Bewildered, Halway heard the laughter. He replayed Alan’s words, then snapped: "Watch me eat you bankrupt at lunch today!"

Alan shrugged, unfazed. "If you can."

He headed upstairs. Lunch needed cooking—no time for guild bickering. Haina and Medi’s duel would stay controlled; no need to worry.

Little Emma was sweet—no arguing, no fighting. If only Haina and Medi were half as well-behaved.

Upstairs, Alan washed up and started cooking. An hour later, aromatic Chinese stir-fries covered the table. Knowing Emma’s huge appetite, he’d roasted three Beastmonster legs just for her. Beastmonster meat packed ten times the energy—and cost—of wild game.

Alan figured: if Emma stayed a year, her eating alone would bankrupt him. Time to earn real money.

As food scents filled the air, Emma shuffled out of Alan’s room, drooling. Saved him the trouble of waking her.

"Alan, Emma’s hungry. Can we eat?" Drooling, she stood before him, eyes locked on the golden-brown Beastmonster legs. Right then, nothing else existed for her.

"Of course."

No sooner had Alan spoken than Emma eagerly reached out her fluffy little hands. "Emma, forget what I said this morning? What do you do before eating?"

She pouted, withdrew her hands, and trudged pitifully toward the bathroom. Wash hands first—but she’d already licked them clean. Look, in the sunlight, they even glowed faintly blue.

She didn’t say that aloud. Instead, she kept glancing back at Alan every few steps. She preferred him to wash her hands.

Alan smiled helplessly. "Want me to wash them for you?"

Emma happily wagged her little wolf tail, pale pink eyes squinting in a grin.

Alan stepped over, gave her a playful head pat, then led her to the bathroom by the hand.

Moments later, washed-up Alan and Emma sat at the dining table. They’d barely settled when Haina and Medi appeared upstairs.

Pfft!

Alan choked on his cooled soup, stunned by their state. Their appearance was… utterly indescribable.

If they’d been goddesses before, now they were madwomen—hair wild, dresses in tatters. Their once-flawless legs were bruised black and blue; faces smeared as dark as charcoal. Strangers might think they’d just crawled out of a coal mine.

Emma, who’d just finished a Beastmonster leg, jumped in fright. Only her nose recognizing their scents stopped her from thinking beggars had invaded.

"Cough… cough… uh, Haina, Medi—what happened? How’d you change looks so fast?"

Alan stood, biting back laughter. Goddesses to madwomen—classic.

Haina shot him a death glare and stormed toward the bathroom. "Bring me clothes. One minute—I want them now!"

"Got it."

Alan darted into Haina’s room. He grabbed a black-and-white maid dress from her wardrobe, plus matching stockings, underwear, and a bra. He rushed it all to the bathroom.

Opening the outer door, he saw Haina’s ruined outfit in the trash. Water roared inside. Her voice echoed: "Leave them on the sink. I’ll grab them after."

"Done. Take your time." Alan backed out.

They’d bathed together as kids growing up—no weird thoughts crossed his mind.

Bacas Medi stood at the second-floor doorway, eyes burning with fury. Damn that blue-haired woman! If not for fearing Alan’s rage, she’d have scarred that face during the duel.

"Medi, use the third-floor bathroom. Clothes? Can’t buy new ones yet. Borrow Haina’s for now. I’ll take you shopping this afternoon."

Alan fetched a light pink fluffy dress from Haina’s room. He added unused underwear—but skipped bras. Haina’s flat chest and Medi’s ample curves? No match possible.

"Alan, you’d have this one wear that blue-haired girl’s clothes? Never. I have a germ phobia—I refuse used garments." Bacas Medi shoved the clothes away. Mistress’s hand-me-downs? Absolutely not.

"Relax. All unused. Just make do. Or… you’d rather wear mine?"

Medi’s alluring eyes sparkled. "I want to wear yours, Alan!"

Alan: "..."

Loose lips sink ships. Could he even refuse now?

"I insist on your clothes, Alan. Do you disdain my body? Fear I’ll stain them?" Tears glistened in her eyes.

Alan turned silently and walked to his room for clothes.