Mr. Yellow pulled back the chair one seat off from the Otherworlder and sat down it with slow movements. He rested his elbows on the desk in front and slightly turned his face to gaze at his companion.

“The world I was born in... it was a beautiful place. A place with blue skies and bluer oceans. Hundreds of different creatures, born from the same land. Some smart, some fast, some strong, some big. There were no monsters or calamities like in this place. It was... a world of peace.”

Though Mr. Yellow was looking at the Otherworlder, his gaze was far, far away.

“Sounds like a dream,” the Otherworlder said.

“Nah!” Mr. Yellow exaggeratedly clicked his tongue and reeled back. “Though there was no magic or mana, the people that lacked strength had something much worse.”

“What was it?”

“Greed.” Mr. Yellow paused for a second, finally seeing the Otherworlder’s eyes. “Their greed took over their science. They burned the trees, culled their animals, and fought with each other over imaginary boundaries. They were killing the very land that birthed them and also themselves. Just like me... That Earth, what a strange world it was.”

The Otherworlder watched as Mr. Yellow lightly giggled at his own words.

“How long ago was it? Since you died...?”

“Three hundred years. It’s been three hundred since my soul lost its path and ended up here. In this pit at the bottom of the realms.”

The Otherworlder’s ears perked up as he heard the time Mr. Yellow had spent here. To think the old man who ran a bookstore in the back of the town was someone so proficient with mana that he could increase his life to twice the average. It was certainly a scary occurrence.

“Three hundred years here... Did you ever look for a way to go back?” the Otherworlder asked.

Mr. Yellow looked away from the Otherworlder and turned his gaze to his hands, clenching them into fists and then opening them up again. “I did. I searched for a way... for many ways. But what could a mere old man do against the realms? Who am I to go over them?”

The Otherworlder sighed and lowered his gaze. A brief bout of silence enveloped the bookstore before the Otherworlder broke it. His voice remained low and his words soft as he asked, “What exactly are the realms?”

“Hah! I don’t know myself.”

“What?” the Otherworlder was left surprised a second time in a row.

“What I said. I have no idea.” Mr. Yellow simply shrugged his shoulder and turned his gaze away again. Realizing it was useless to push for more details, the Otherworlder too left the matter behind. He didn’t feel disappointed in the slightest. Whatever he didn’t know, he just had to learn.

“But,” Mr. Yellow interrupted. “If this world at the bottom of it all is any example, I can only imagine how terrifying the realms must be.”

“Haha, yeah. I can only imagine. Like you and me, if this is place is where all that has fallen from the realms ends up at, just what terrifying things could be up there?”

“What have you even seen?” Mr. Yellow said with a smirk, his face exactly like that of an old grandpa teaching his grandkids about the hardships of the world. “You have never even left Angnarmarak! This is the safest place of them all!”

“Is that so?”

“It is! Let me tell you a tale of how I had to fight a cyborg dragon terrorizing a village, or do you want to hear about the river that turned people into soul-sucking candy monsters?”

Like a parent telling their tales to an excited child, Mr. Yellow broke into recitals of his decades-old epics as the Otherworlder listened with open ears and a wide smile.

The morning sun started making its way down while Mr. Yellow told him both the stories and then some more. Tales of mountains pointed at the base and broad at the top, of rivers of clouds and towns of stones, Mr. Yellow told the Otherworlder all about the little he had seen of this world.

Being fully immersed in the man’s tales, the Otherworlder too obediently listened to each and every twist and turn, interrupting only when he couldn’t hold in his curiosity. He didn’t even realize when the sun went down and when the moon lit up the sky.

Only after Mr. Yellow’s stories came to a stop did they notice the time.

“My, it sure is late.”

“Ah, now that you mention it.”

Mr. Yellow smiled and slowly got up from his chair. “Thank you for indulging this old man today. I must have bored you to bits.”

“No way! I should be the one thanking you,” the Otherworlder said. “I learned a lot today. I would love to hear more.”

Mr. Yellow smiled and patted the Otherworlder’s back. He escorted him to the door with a smile. As the Otherworlder stepped out of the gate, he turned back to Mr. Yellow one last time.

“Is there... really no way to go back?”

“Do you wish to go back that much?”

“I... don’t know. I wonder myself.”

Mr. Yellow found himself smiling again at the Otherworlder’s response. “Did you not hear a single tale of mine? This world at the bottom of the realms... I doubt there’s anything impossible here. There must be. I wouldn’t know. I stopped my search long ago.”

“You stopped searching?” the Otherworlder asked. “Why?”

“Haha, if there was one thing my people had more than greed, it was love.” With a wry smile, Mr. Yellow looked up into the night sky and gazed at the twinkling stars. Like lamps shining up in the sky, the stars embraced the dark night sky and brightened it with their soft light.

“I just fell in love with this world... Now go, this old man needs to rest. Get out.”

Mr. Yellow pushed the Otherworlder out and closed the door on him. The Otherworlder fumbled over his steps before coming to a stop in the center of the streets. The small town was already rather quiet. Naturally, such a desolate part of the place seemed like a deserted street.

With a long sigh, the Otherworlder shook his head and stepped away from the streets. Taking a few steps ahead, he too turned his gaze up and stared at the night stars.

“Love, huh...” a soft smile appeared on the Otherworlder’s face as he faced away from the stars. “Should I drink tonight?”