Once he concluded his session in the Hall of Names, Wolf visited Roger. The young Mage rode a carriage instead of casting Merge With Wind and storming over. He didn’t stint on Soul Force. Wolf saved time. He used the hours spent in transit to contemplate his visions.

When they reached Cornucopia, Wolf ordered the driver to wait for him, enjoying some benefits of his status. He walked out of the cab, no longer wearing Mage Academy student’s uniform.

Instead, he wore a fancy robe Mandy bought him yesterday. She used Headmaster Smith’s money, which caused Wolf’s eye to twitch. It made him feel like he paid the bill; grossly overpaid it.

Seeing the short noble, guards bowed. They treated Wolf the same as when he visited in disguise. The only difference was that this time they flanked Roger. The elderly merchant waited in front of his group’s gate and bowed deeper than the guards.

“We’ve been awaiting Your Lordship ever since we got Your Lordship’s note that Your Lordship would pay us a visit. If Your Lordship doesn't mind, we would like to host Your Lordship. Please don’t take offense at our humble headquarters.” Roger stuttered, fumbling for words. He kept his back bent, hiding his fear.

Wolf’s reputation was abysmal. He slaughtered begging nobles in front of a stunned crowd. He was a virgin-hunting woman eater, and he lived with his future wife, along with a mistress of questionable morals. Rumors stated that he took them at the same time, or watched them for his perverse pleasure.

This monster chose to visit Roger of all people, and he couldn’t figure out why. Even if he faced his final judgment, Roger wouldn’t know which action summoned this omen of disaster. In his letter, Marquis Wolf Hillman revealed no reason for his visit, nor what connection existed between them.

“Straighten up and let’s drink some tea. We have a lot to discuss.” Wolf rolled his eyes at the theatrics, unaware of Roger’s unease.

Roger hastily led the way after hearing Wolf’s order, leaving behind the still bowing guards. One of them frowned; he'd heard Wolf’s voice before.

Roger entered the lavish guest room and clapped. Seven scantily dressed women hurried in. They were young and shapely, their faces attractive. They carried cups, hot water, tea leaves, milk and a tray of biscuits. Before Wolf came over, Roger racked his brains, thinking how to justify seven unique beauties entering the office instead of one serving girl carrying a tray.

Wolf noticed the women and their getup, but didn’t comment. He had important matters to discuss with Roger.

“Ahem, Marquess Hillman.” Roger casually moved his arm, showing the women and their offerings. “These are gifts for our first meeting. They are fresh and to your taste, unsullied by others.”

Roger kept his words ambiguous, but he obviously offered girls, not tea and biscuits. The young Mage frowned slightly after the merchant mentioned their first meeting, but when he mentioned unsullied gifts, he wished to slap Roger.

“Roger, what the hells is wrong with you? I’m here on business. Have these servants leave. We have important things to discuss.” Wolf wanted to cry. Roger never behaved that way before. It just proves how much one's reputation influences others.

“I want you to send these letters to Rand and Frida with your next caravan.” Wolf handed two sealed envelopes to the confused merchant.

Rand, Frida? Don’t tell me… Roger was sharp. Those two names were clues enough to realize Wolf’s identity. Why didn’t you mention anything in the letter? Would I embarrass myself if I had known? I mean, you could’ve said you’re my investor, and I would’ve connected the dots.

Roger nodded with a polite smile as he received the letters, burying his inner bitterness. He and Wolf sat in silence while the trembling serving girls placed refreshments on the club table and scuttled out.

The door closed with a squeak, and Wolf cleared his throat. “What I wished to discuss privately is… Would you be my treasurer? I need someone trustworthy to handle my marquisate’s finances?”

Roger blinked. He opened his mouth. Then he closed it. He opened it again, then nodded, his jaw still hanging slack.

Mandy was trustworthier. However, the position of Mage Academy’s Chief of Finance paid better. If Wolf intended to relocate to his capital, Mandy would’ve taken the job, but without “special incentives” there was no need for her to give up her job.

“Yes! Yes, my Lord.” Roger grinned.

He rejoiced, and the conversation with Wolf became a blur in his memory. They agreed to draft a contract later, since Wolf planned to stay in Silver City for a while.

Wolf left the smalltime merchant group and went towards the next person on his list.

South was his typical drunken self. No inhuman visages of horror haunted Wolf’s eyes, nor did the bum have any witty remarks. The only peculiarity was a slight knowing smile.

“So, will you cook for me every day?” the hobo asked his little brother once the duo finished their meal.

“Why?”

“Well, you plan to leave for several years. Right? And you have to bring along enough barrels for your medicine.” South shook the object of worship he held in his hand.

“It’s fine.” Wolf considered it before shaking his head.

“I already have enough to last me a decade.” He grinned, recalling the enthusiasm with which South asked for barrels.

“Nonsense. You can never have enough of this.” To prove his point, South chugged.

“Ahh!” The bum wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Good stuff. Worth an arm.”

He smiled and tossed the wineskin to Wolf. “Here, catch.”

The exotic container struck Wolf with the weight of a meteor. Surprised, he lost his balance and nearly toppled over.

“Big Brother—” But South raised his hand.

“Don’t.” Vagrant brooked no argument. “If you’re capable, this is rightfully yours. If you’re incompetent, there’s little waste lending it to you temporarily. Besides, I can snatch it back whenever I need it.”

Wolf didn’t doubt those words.

“Thanks. I’ll try my best to prove my worth.” He nodded, a glint of resolution shining in his eyes.

“I’m mad, but I believe in you.” South nodded. “Now, since you’ve taken my sustenance, start showing me how much you care by feeding me.”

Wolf laughed and agreed to feed South until he got the ingredients for the Star Body’s fourth stage elixir.

“Right, do you know anything about an item called Cube of Fusing?” Wolf asked and South shook his head.

“It’s another cheat shit. Don’t get suckered into blindly relying on it. Think whether you need it, and whether you can make something yourself. You should trust your creations the most. However, having others make things for you saves you time. Consider how valuable your time is before acting. Just like you took the carriage today. It’s better to handle other chores while hitching a ride, even if it’s slower than when moving personally.”

Wolf listened to the rather lengthy lesson. He wanted to say that South didn’t really answer his question, but seeing the bum so happy to have a reason to praise him drew Wolf’s smile.

His next destination was the Alchemists’ Guild. Again, people around him acted oddly. As soon as he entered, an attractive attendant approached him, but didn’t say the usual lines.

“Good day, Lord Marquess.” She bowed while trying to hide her curves. Her face was red and her voice quivered. “The manager beseeched Your Lordship to wait in the private room. He will attend to you shortly.”

Wolf followed the woman, feeling as awkward as she did. What the hells? I won’t knock you down and molest you in public.

Wolf’s mind went blank.

I wouldn’t do it privately either.

Yes, yes, Master. I know. There’s no need to explain yourself. Silver’s voice had a hint of exasperation. These past few days Wolf explained and justified his every errant thought regarding the opposite sex. Silver wasn’t interested. In her book, whatever Wolf did was right.

The clerk scurried out the instant Wolf sat. She tried to maintain a professional appearance. However, her steps were rushed, and she sighed with relief while closing the door.

Will everyone view me as a monster now? Wolf wondered, sitting alone in the fancy reception room.

Do you care? Silver asked after a moment.

Yes. Wolf wanted to say ‘no’. Surprisingly, he realized that deep down, he cared. Otherwise, he wouldn’t even notice these people’s quirkiness.

Then, do you think you shouldn’t have done what you did? Nothing in this world interested Silver more than Wolf’s true nature.

No. Wolf needn’t consider this. I’d hide my identity better, but I’d do it all over again. If I could find willing female Archmages or True-Namers, I’d pay them as well. Those three virgins were very useful, and they were mere Fifth Order.

Master, I don’t understand. What do you regret? Wolf frowned at Silver’s question and sank into thought.

I regret my stupidity. Wolf realized, but then the Alchemists’ Guild’s manager walked in.

“Good day, Marquess Hillman.” The administrator half-bowed and sat. “What may I do for you?”

“I would like to purchase the highest tier healing potion recipe you’re willing to sell, as well as two hundred sets of ingredients to brew them.” Wolf stated his request. Headmaster Smith already told him this was an awkward matter, since such items were exclusive to guild members.

The manager grimaced awkwardly, then nodded.

“I owe you a favor.” The murderous aura Wolf erupted with over that potion of Regeneration still haunted him.

He waited, stabbing Wolf with his pleading gaze. Wolf took a moment to realize what was happening. Then he nodded. The guild master didn’t antagonize him, and even sued for peace.

The Alchemist grinned. “I’ll take care of everything personally.”