"Adventurers?" The Inspector looked at the three ragged figures before him, not particularly surprised.

"You don’t much look the part—and don’t be so quick to argue. I’ve seen plenty of people, both real Adventurers and fakers trying to slip through."

"Where’s your gear?"

"Stripped off us by goblins." Aive coughed twice and pushed Ron aside. ’Now’s my chance to shine,’ she thought.

"Right... looks like you’ll have to buy a new set," the Inspector said, dipping his quill in ink. He continued his questioning as he wrote on a sheet of paper. "So you were out hunting goblins?"

"As far as I know, the villages over there are often harassed by goblins—who gave you the commission?"

"We weren’t hunting goblins. We were just passing through," Aive said smoothly, without a hint of hesitation. Ron guessed this was her own story she was telling.

"We set out from Rose City, escorting a merchant to Cloud Port. He was in the spice trade."

The Inspector nodded, gesturing for Aive to continue.

"But when we were passing through goblin territory, we were ambushed. The merchant was killed on the spot by an arrow, and my companions and I were captured one by one. We went through hell to escape and ran all the way here."

"A well-spun tale," the Inspector said with a small laugh, "but if that’s all you have, I’ll have to deny you entry. The taverns have plenty of Bards; we’re not in need of any more storytellers right now."

"But you definitely need professional Adventurers," Aive said, plopping herself right down on the desk. She pointed a finger at the record book on its surface. "Write. Rose City Adventurer IDs: C-7211, C-7213, and C-7216."

"Then take that to your local Adventurer’s Guild—if a backwater place like this even has one. They’ll tell you whether I am who I say I am."

"You?" The Inspector paused, his gaze lingering for a moment on the enticing curves of Aive’s backside before he looked up at the Half-Elf. "You’re really from Rose City?"

That was a famous center for the spice trade on the continent; even many of the refugees had heard of it. And Cloud Port was one of the most important harbors on the continent’s west coast, equally renowned.

That was why he hadn’t believed Aive’s story at first—both places were so famous that anyone could casually mention their landmarks or stories.

"I was born in Federico, a small Elven city. My dad brought my mom and me to Rose City when I was three," Aive said with casual confidence. "So I’m not just from Rose City, I’m a local. There’s a somewhat famous tavern in Rose City called Night Wind. My dad named it after my mom’s family name."

"As you know, a lot of spices are used as flavorings, which is how I got to know that spice merchant. Any other questions?"

"Er... yes, there are still some routine procedures." Beads of sweat began to form on the Inspector’s brow. He truly hadn’t expected to find a "big shot" mixed in with this crowd of refugees.

Fromm was just a remote little town. Someone from Rose City was undoubtedly a big deal here, even if she was just the daughter of a tavern owner.

’People like that probably charge by the Gold Coin for even a cup of water!’

"I’m sure you and your companions can enter, but I must register you all. It’s my duty, so please cooperate."

"Of course," Aive said, hopping off the desk and giving him a slight smile. "Aive de Kaperen, thirty-seven years old, Adventurer, Half-Elf Warrior."

"I’m Delaford!" the Goblin Hunter shouted. "Delaford, eighteen, Adventurer, Gob—MMMPH!"

"Gob—?" The Inspector paused and looked up, only to see Ron and Aive desperately clamping their hands over the goblin’s mouth.

"Go-Goliath!" Aive stammered out. "Yes, a Goliath! A Wanderer!"

The Inspector gave the three very strange Adventurers a suspicious look, but ultimately chose to believe Aive. He just muttered to himself as he wrote in the register:

"Eighteen years old... a bit too young, isn’t he..."

After all, Underground Dwarves are generally considered adults at twenty-five, Goliaths at twenty, and goblins usually at eight. The human Inspector certainly had reason to be puzzled.

"Last one. And you, my fellow human?"

Ron thought for a moment. "Just write Ron. Twenty-five. Pharmacist."

"Not an Alchemist?" the Inspector asked curiously. "Friend, you don’t have to hide who you are. The lord of Fromm is also human, and we are in dire need of someone with your talents. If you were to say you’re an Alchemist, I could make an introduction for you."

"Thank you for the kind offer, but it’s... inconvenient for me at the moment, so I’d better not." Ron shook his head with a smile, politely declining the man’s generous and well-intentioned proposal.

As for why it was "inconvenient," he’d let them imagine whatever they wanted. Only Ron himself knew the real reason.

In his past life, he could have proudly called himself a professional, but in this world, he was a gold bar made of pure brass.

’God knows how much Magic is mixed into this world’s "Alchemy"! For all I know, things like the Philosopher’s Stone might actually be real!’

’If I recklessly bragged about being an Alchemist, wouldn’t I be exposed the moment my skills were put to the test?’

"I always thought you were a real Alchemist," Aive whispered in Ron’s ear after the Inspector at the gate finished their registration and let the three of them into town. "You’re really not?"

"If I were, would I have needed to smear that medicinal mud on you?" Ron said with a wry smile. "But I have been thinking about it—learning some Alchemy to round out my skills."

"That’s easy!" Aive laughed, clapping Ron on the shoulder. "Once we’re done here, I’ll take you back to Rose City. There are plenty of master Alchemists there!"

"Then I’ll have to trouble you for an introduction," Ron said jovially. "But for now, let’s go find some real Alchemy Potions."

The streets of Fromm had clearly been meticulously planned by someone with vision; they were simple, but not simplistic. Following the main road, Ron and the others easily found nearly every shop they might need to visit: a general store, a tavern, an inn, and even the Adventurer’s Guild. Everything was prominently displayed.

"The original town lord and designer were definitely no ordinary people," Aive said in amazement as she surveyed the small town she’d never even heard of before. "And did you hear what that old man said last night? They even had the foresight to build aqueducts to prevent droughts."

"I think we should meet the current town... Hey, Ron, where are you going?"

Ron’s figure had already appeared at the entrance of a shop, with Delaford trotting along right behind him.

"To buy you a Healing Potion, of course!"