Alfred drove with visible excitement, his hands steady on the wheel but his mind already racing ahead; at that moment, he genuinely wanted to rush home, fetch the cat and the dog, and conduct an experiment.

No, not an experiment, merely a procedure, a formal process; He needed to prove his loyalty to the young master. He needed to prove to those two pets who truly had the right to stand in the second row, smiling.

However, this urgency had to be temporarily restrained, because they could not return home just yet. His young master needed to buy clothes.

What surprised Alfred was that his young master did not choose a clothing store in the city center. Instead, he instructed Alfred to drive back towards Bluebridge Community. When they had nearly exited the central district, Alfred was directed to turn west. There was a clothing plaza composed of small individual shops. The entire place was bustling with pedestrian traffic. It was a locale that catered primarily to working-class customers.

Whether the goods were beautiful was debatable, but the prices were certainly low.

“I remember passing by here the day we were in Alaia’s car.”

“Young Master, do we really need to buy clothes here?” Alfred asked.

“Yes. It’s convenient here.”

Alfred could only follow Karon inside.

Karon did not browse for options, but walked straight into a shop near the entrance. From the display window, it was clear that the store had a fairly wide selection, but specialized in men’s clothing.

“Please come in.” With someone approaching, a woman stepped forward to open the door. What slightly surprised Karon was her purple hair.

At one point in Veyn’s history, the country had engaged in the slave trade. Large numbers of slaves had been imported to fuel industrialization. Even now, illegal immigration remained a significant problem each year, and most of those people had purple hair.

When Karon had disembarked in York Harbor, he had seen a large number of malnourished, purple-haired laborers working the docks. They generally were unable to obtain citizenship and lived as undocumented residents. Their social status was low, and they also suffered from racial discrimination.

Even just running a small clothing shop like this meant that this woman was doing relatively well for her background.

She wore a gray sweater with black trousers. It was a conservative outfit, but given her full figure, even in loose clothing, slight movements revealed her curves.

Her face was not fair or smooth, bearing traces of weathering. She appeared to be in her thirties. Her voice was somewhat hoarse, and the backs of her hands showed obvious cracks that had healed, leaving behind permanent ridges. They were marks of hardships she had endured.

“Help me choose two sets of casual clothes. Just something that fits.”

“Of course, sir.”

The shop owner immediately grabbed a hanger to select clothes from the rack, but Karon stopped her. “Nothing too bright. Ordinary colors, please.”

“Hm?” She gave him a curious look.

“Color similar to what you’re wearing will do,” Karon added.

“Alright, alright.” She quickly selected two sets. One pair of trousers was coffee-colored, the other blue, and both were casual styles. One of the tops was a gray sweater, like her own, while the other a knitted white turtleneck.

“Is there a fitting room?”

“Yes, there is inside. Please follow me.”

Karon followed her to a back room. There was a bed in it, with a paralyzed man lying on it. Judging by his skin and hair, he was likely a native of Veyn. Nearby on a blanket sat a little mixed-blood girl, quietly playing with toys.

One way for immigrants to obtain citizenship was by marrying locals.

The fitting room was a small separate compartment that had a mirror and a bed.

“Would you like me to help you try them on?” the owner asked as she reached to assist Karon remove his coat.

“Please step outside. Thank you.”

“Oh. Of course.”

She withdrew, and Karon changed alone. The clothes fit well, and he still looked handsome in them, but the sharp, refined aura grew more subdued.

He had not come to this store in order to save Piaget money. Rather, when sitting with clients, their eyes would naturally examine your clothes and shoes during conversation. If they discovered your clothing was ordinary, or even inexpensive, it would give them a sense of ease and reduced resistance.

When a client sat across from a psychiatrist who wore luxury brand attire, they would suffer an invisible pressure that would hinder discussions regarding their condition.

Considering the location and positioning of Piaget’s clinic, and the type of people in this era who were willing to spend money on psychological treatment, in a materialistic age, seeing that the psychiatrist was not dressed more expensively than the patient themself would make the patient feel relaxed, comfortable, and composed.

Of course, one could also not go to work dressed like a beggar.

After trying on the clothes, Karon changed back into his original clothes and stepped out. The paralyzed man had turned towards the wall and fallen asleep.

The little girl, who had been playing on the floor, unwrapped a piece of candy and popped it into her mouth. When she saw Karon emerge, she walked over with a smile and held out another candy for him. “Big brother, have some candy.”

“Thank you.” Karon accepted and stepped into the shop. The owner approached.

“How much?”

“Let me calculate.” Her gaze repeatedly shifted between Karon and Alfred. “A total of 1,241 rels, but I’ll give you a discount; How about 1,200?”

Karon smiled. “That’s too expensive.”

“It’s really not. Look at the material; It’s good quality.”

“I’ll pass.” He turned, pushed open the door, and prepared to leave. Alfred followed.

“Wait, wait. Don’t go.” The owner grabbed Karon’s arm. “Name a price. As long as I don’t lose money, I’ll sell.”

“120 rels,” Karon said.

“That’s a loss.” She pleaded, shaking his hand. Her rough skin lightly scratched against him.

“Then forget it.”

“Add a little more.”

“No. If you refuse the sale, I’ll leave.”

She clenched her teeth and stamped her foot. “Fine. Let’s call it making a friend. Deal.”

Karon signaled Alfred to pay. Since the demonkin had started accompanying him, Karon had ceased to carry cash himself. The demonkin even carried Karon’s savings, and there was no concern about embezzlement.

Alfred took out his wallet, but did not immediately pay. “Young Master, shall I buy two sets as well?”

Karon glanced at him. This was the same man who had once insisted on fine suits in Roja City and who had changed outfits to match morning sun, the dusk glow, and the midnight stars.

“You don’t need to. This is for work.”

“No, I think I do.” Alfred pointed at the clothes. “Pack these first, then take down that one, that one, and that one. I’ll try them on.”

“Of course.”

“Young Master, I’ll go try them.”

“Mhmm.” Karon wanted to object. A man who casually purchased garments worth thousands of rupi now needed a fitting room for something worth only dozens.

Still, Karon did not want to dampen Alfred’s enthusiasm. Since leaving Roja City for Veyn, Alfred had sacrificed and supported Karon constantly. He would not deny him this small pleasure.

“Please sit,” the owner offered, bringing a stool over.

“Thank you.” Karon sat.

“You don’t look like someone who would shop here,” she began.

“My family went bankrupt,” Karon replied with a smile.

She paused awkwardly, then changed the subject. “Are you married?”

“No.”

“I can introduce you to a suitable girl. Very pretty and clean. She can do housework. Very diligent.”

Karon suspected the woman also served as a marriage broker, likely to facilitate citizenship through marriage.

“I have a fiancée.”

“What about him?” She gestured inside.

“He’s married.”

“What a pity.”

She thought for a moment, then asked, “You said your family went bankrupt?”

“Yes.”

“Will your fiancée despise you and leave?”

Karon frowned slightly.

Seeing his expression, the woman assumed she had struck a nerve. “I know several marriageable girls who are willing to endure hardship with you.”

“No need,” Karon said.

“Why cling to unrealistic love? You’re deceiving yourself.”

“...”

“Look at my husband. He married me. I gave him a daughter. He’s become paralyzed, yet I’ve never abandoned him. That’s a responsible wife.”

“You are indeed responsible,” Karon agreed. “But I truly don’t need it.”

At that moment, a teenage girl entered carrying a large box.

“Michelle, this is today’s yarn.” She set the box down. She appeared to be about sixteen. Her clothes were worn, but clean, and her skin was a bit dark. She had a brisk, lively air.

“Look.” The owner pulled her forward.

The girl bowed politely. “Sir, hello.”

“Hello,” Karon nodded.

“Her name is Ciri. Hardworking and reliable. Look at her hips.”

“Michelle!”

“Stand properly! Do you want your parents to marry you off to that fifty-year-old cripple to secure your brother’s school admission?”

Karon spread his hands sincerely. “Ms. Michelle, I believe there’s a misunderstanding; My fiancée and I are very close, and her family is supporting my new start.”

Alfred, how long does it take to try on clothes?

Michelle sighed.

“I believe your fiancée must be very beautiful,” Ciri said with a smile. “You are very handsome, so you two must suit each other.”

“Thank you. You’re beautiful as well.”

Finally, Alfred emerged. “How much for these two outfits?”

The owner hesitated. “150 rels.”

“That won’t do. My clothes can’t cost more than the young master’s.”

“It’s fine.” Karon stood. “Settle the bill.”

“270 rels total.”

“Give her 300. The difference is for the child’s candy.”

“Thank you.”

After paying, they returned to the car. Alfred placed the clothes in the back seat and started the engine. “Young Master, we need a maid.”

“Oh?”

“I need to accompany you and ensure your safety. There is a cat and dog in the house, but neither can clean. You also can’t cook every meal yourself, especially after you begin work tomorrow.”

“Very well. Arrange it.”

“When Alaia returns, I’ll have him accompany me to buy the car and help me to find a maid. Inviting his family to dinner was wise. In a new place, an Alaia is always necessary.”

“Mm.” Karon closed his eyes to rest. His base salary was ten thousand rels, plus performance bonuses, so it should never go below that. It was sufficient income to sustain a respectable lifestyle. After all, he did not have to repay the mortgage himself.

The thought brought a slight feeling of guilt, but he then remembered that he had purchased the house for less than half of the expected price. His uncle and aunts were likely facing far less pressure than anticipated.

Given the income of Immers Funeral Home, the mortgage should not be a problem. It was not as if Mason had to haul cargo at the docks to repay the loan.

With that thought, Karon felt much lighter.

Beep, beep. A car blocked the road ahead. Alfred honked, but the vehicle did not move.

“Young Master, look; Isn’t that a hearse?”

Karon opened his eyes. It did appear to be a modified hearse.

Two thin workers were trying to push a stretcher into the rear compartment. Though a ramp was lowered, they could not get it up.

“Let’s help.” Karon unbuckled and stepped out. As he closed the door, he almost smiled. Was this professional instinct returning?

The “guest” on the stretcher was enormous; tall and obese. Even covered with a white sheet, the round belly bulged prominently. He was the type crematorium owners loved and funeral home owners dreaded.

“Sorry, sir. We’ll move soon,” said a red-haired young man, thinking Karon was annoyed.

“Pike, push harder.”

“Okay, Dinkom.”

“One, two, three.”

They strained again without success.

“Have one person get up to help guide them in. Watch the wheel angle,” Karon advised. He then waved to Alfred. “Go on up.”

“Yes, Young Master.” Alfred climbed into the hearse and grasped the stretcher’s upper end. “Push from below. I’ll hold him steady. Now, push.”

With a heavy thud, the stretcher finally slid into place, largely thanks to Alfred’s strength.

“Thank you, sir.” Dinkom offered a slightly crushed cigarette. “Please.”

“No, thank you. I don’t smoke.”

“Neither do I,” Alfred added.

Pike started the car and parked it aside, then returned with soda bottles. “If you don’t smoke, have some soda.”

“Thank you.” Karon took one and sipped. “Lemon.”

Alfred accepted one as well, but as he turned to leave, Pike called out, sounding embarrassed, “Please return the bottle. I need the deposit.”

“Of course.”

The four men sat on curb, drinking soda together.

“Sir, aren’t you afraid of corpses?” Dinkom asked.

“They’re just guests,” Karon replied. “No different from guests in a restaurant.”

“Then a toast to today’s guest and to helpful gentlemen,” Pike said.

They clinked bottles.

“Is it just the two of you?” Karon asked.

“The boss came out with us, but got off midway to visit a lady. We’ll pick him up later. His wife keeps him on a tight leash.”

“I see.”

Pike finished first and placed his bottle down. Alfred finished and set his bottle down beside it. Dinkom finished and placed his bottle behind Alfred’s, the spacing nearly symmetrical. The three formed a right angle.

Karon noticed the two men looking at him. Two obsessive personalities.

He drained the last sip and placed his bottle to complete the square.

Dinkom clenched a fist. “Perfect.”

Pike laughed. “Praise Order!”