The night passed peacefully.

Somehow, Bob managed to sleep well. Alther, however, slept terribly.

After being saved by the weirdo in a costume from a person weird in the head, they were bought into one of the tall squarish buildings that the city seemed to mostly comprise of. The man said some strange things and found them a room with two beds, where they slept in.

Initially, Alther was planning to escape, but he decided to take the risk of staying. If he tried to escape, who knew if he'd be apprehended by some random guard again? And besides, the room was rather luxurious. Despite the plain white walls, the beds and tables in the room seemed to be extremely well made, with even some sort of advanced device showing strange recurring symbols that changed every second. A timekeeping device?

At any rate, it seemed fairly unlikely that they were going to be sent to prison. Unless of course, prisoners were treated very well in this country, which seemed even more unlikely to him.

But despite that, he was fraught with anxiety. He couldn't think of any reason how they were sent to this country or why they wouldn't just be sent to prison after being caught stealing. Crazy scenarios as to why flashed across his mind, but none of them seemed possible. The best lead he had was that the machine that "killed" them was actually common here. But from what he could tell, it seemed like they were only ordinary transportation devices, basically just carriages that didn't need horses.

Bob too was panicking after being escorted here, but a few words from Alther calmed him down. The joys of having someone to rely on! Alther wished he had one too. Only in this situation of course.

During the night, he attempted to use various spells to pinpoint his location and the way back, but to no avail. He also pick-locked the room and left, grabbing books and newspapers he found. The paper seemed to be of very high quality. But what worried him was how he couldn't figure out what language it was.

As an avid reader, he had read translated books from various countries, be it fiction or just interesting spellbooks that shed light on how people of other cultures use and cast spells. He only bothered to learn 3 languages, but even so, he could tell which language was what language based on how the letters looked.

Maybe it was some country that was isolated? No, that didn't seem likely. He even spotted a huge flying machine high the sky much to his shock (mostly because it was extremely noisy)! A country this advanced would surely have reached out and found other countries. No country could deny the benefits of international trading, so such a country would definitely be known.

What was going on? Could it be that he was summoned as sort of hero from- No! What type of stupid childish thought was that? Infuriated, he buried his head under his pillow. If this kept on, he wouldn't be able to get any rest. It wasn't like thinking constantly was getting anywhere either.

But his mind did not cooperate and continued to think constatnly despite his efforts. Hours passed before exhaustion claimed him.

The sun rose. Birds began to chirp.

The weird costumed man (who was now in normal clothing) opened the door. Inside was a man snoring with his head face-first in a pillow and another greedily eating a huge chunk of cold ham.

The ham eating man, Bob, tried to quickly swipe the ham behind his back but wasn't fast enough.

"I got hungry!" he said, embarrassed.

The now uncostumed man did not understand what the ham man said but was not too pleased to find his fridge ransacked and the main component for his breakfast defiled. And to think he felt bad for locking the bedroom door yesterday! Of course the thieves pick-locked it.

"Whatever. Let's grab some bre-"

What was he doing? The man stopped himself. He spoke to them even thought he knew they didn't understand subconciously!

Now in a bad mood, he walked over and shook the pillow man awake. Pillow man mumbled something disgruntledly and seemed reluctant to get up. So pillow man was shaken more violently.

Their attention was piqued, the uncostumed man pointed at himself, then the two bandits and pointed outside the door. Luckily, pointing was a gesture that had the same meaning in both worlds. Alther and Bob reluctantly got out of the room and followed him into the kitchen.

The man snatched the ham from Bob, and sliced off the part covered in bite marks with a kitchen knife. He took out cheese and mayo from the fridge and cut two more chunks off the ham. The combination of the three ingredients was put between bread, the bite-mark covered one naturally going to the Bob.

Just as Bob was about to take initiative, a hand blocked the sandwich from entering his mouth. The man pointed towards the door and had them follow him out of the building and into an area filled with vehicles. Bob was terrified but after some assurance from Alther, he calmed down somewhat.

The man opened the doors of the car and ushered him in. Indeed, these machines were really just transport, like Alther thought. But that only made him more confused as to how one of these sent him and Bob here.

The car droved out of the garage and off onto the roads. Naturally, the "gods of traffic" decided to bless them with a bounty of cars which was more commonly referred to as traffic jam.

"Cal. You're late."

"Shut up, Misha!" grumbled the man. "Traffic was bad again today."

Misha glared at him.

"Tell me. How many times have you used that excuse for being late?" she asked.

"As many times as traffic decides to be a bitch! How is telling the truth an excuse?"

"Then head out earlier! It's not that-"

"Calvin, Misha." said a man in a tuxedo calmly. "As much as I like to watch you two get along, that's not the reason we came here today."

They turned and starred at Bob and Alther who followed in. Somehow, Bob had not finished his sandwich and was still nibbling slowly.