After saying goodbye to the others, Roland and Sasha boarded the regular bus back to their slum—Shen Alley.

Even at this hour, the alley buzzed with life. Residents greeted them warmly the moment they spotted the pair returning.

“Roland, Sasha! Been busy again these past few days?”

“Have you eaten? The pumpkin porridge’s still warm.”

“I saw the news! You did great in Heichuan, right? Made us all proud!”

Voices overlapped in cheerful chatter, radiating genuine warmth toward Sasha and Roland. Most here were simple folk, content with little, asking for nothing more. Those sent to this slum ranged from non-poor citizens of the Lis Empire to bankrupt entrepreneurs or fugitives—yet to Roland, none revealed their past.

After politely declining the offers, they returned to their room in a three-story apartment building. Roughly thirty square meters—neither cramped nor spacious.

Though absent for days, the room was spotless… except the quilt, still tossed aside exactly as left that morning. Roland frowned slightly. Just as he stepped forward with his right foot—

“Welcome home, Roland, Sasha.”

A steel sphere rolled off the table and slammed onto his toes. A sharp jolt shot through him. He jerked back half a step—*thud*—bumped the wall corner and tumbled down. This combo hurt worse than the Lionbite Shark’s attacks.

“You scrap heap!” Roland clutched his throbbing toes and head. “One day, I’ll sell you off.”

“Per Regulation No. 8, that action is prohibited.”

The scrap heap was named Sara—a parting gift from Master Gudao. Rumor said its database held nearly all imperial magic. As Master Gudao once said: *“Treat it like a textbook. Tap wherever you’re stuck.”*

Yet Sasha remained an Elemental Apprentice, while Roland barely scraped by as an Elemental Envoy.

Oddly, though Elves should be elementally gifted, Sasha struggled. She mastered every formula and theory—but her elemental affinity stayed stubbornly low, blocking even basic spells.

“Roland, Sasha. Dinner?” Sara asked again.

It cooked nearly all their meals. They’d left it behind lately simply because it was too noisy. And it couldn’t fit into the Spatial Storage Ring. *Aren’t machines inanimate? Even a smartphone fits… why not this hunk of metal?*

Forget it. Overthinking changed nothing.

“Make the usual.”

“Confirmed. Egg fried rice?”

Steel wings sprouted from Sara’s back. It fluttered toward the kitchen.

Seizing the moment, Roland and Sasha headed to the bathroom. Stripping quickly, they rinsed under the shower. Bathing together had its perks: unreachable spots got cleaned thoroughly. No hidden grime. Every corner gleamed.

…

Dressed in loose clothes post-shower, they found Sara’s egg fried rice waiting. They sat side by side, eating quietly.

After a pause, Sasha murmured, “Today… brought a lot of trouble.”

“Yeah,” Roland replied.

They’d said it before. Almost to themselves. But Roland felt it necessary.

“Miss Aini… truly kind. Sharp with Thuke, a little harsh with Xue Die—but she cares deeply for everyone. Gentle, yet decisive when needed.”

Roland nodded.

“Thuke seems rough, but his heart’s with ordinary people. He lifts dull moods and stands by his word. A loyal friend.”

Sasha added, “Though… we still owe him a hundred gold coins.”

Roland gave a wry smile. “Depends when he remembers.”

“Xue Die loves games. Quiet normally, but talks endlessly about them. Is she shy or outgoing?” Sasha tilted her head, puzzled while eating.

Roland continued, “Her swordsmanship and magic stunned me. In the final clash with the Lionbite Shark—she predicted every move.” He shifted tone. “Autumnwater… he hid himself all along. Only in that last moment did we see the real him.”

“You mean… he refused to force Faith Power onto me? But without it, we’d all have died.”

Sasha didn’t blame anyone. She’d felt a flicker of regret under that overwhelming Faith Power—but she endured.

“And then…"

“Tina.”

What *was* she? Her smile felt genuinely warm. Harmful? Helpful? They still had no answer.

As the thought settled, the bowl was empty.

“Another serving?” Sara’s mechanical voice chimed. “I can prepare more.”

“…”

Roland stared at his reflection in the oily plate gleam.

Right now, he had no right to resist.

[*Do not seek your memories, Roland, Sasha.*]

Master Gudao’s voice echoed softly.

[*What matters isn’t the past, but living now. Aren’t you creating beautiful memories together? That is enough.*]

He was right. Lost memories only bred confusion. Roland valued stability—he wouldn’t let ghosts shatter his present peace.

But…

Sasha watched him.

In that shared silence: Roland saw only his reflection. Sasha saw the real Roland.

Both were *him*.

Yet the distance felt vast.

Indeed…

If truth existed—

He still wanted to know.

What truly happened to him.