Dreamweaver.

The pact was successful.

Loren stood up, and Seyla followed.

Loren looked at Seyla with a smile, raised his left hand for a handshake, and said, "Welcome to the team, Sheriff Seyla."

Seyla raised his right hand and returned the smile, nodding as they shook hands.

They both sat down again, continuing their conversation.

Loren leaned back slightly. "If you're planning to buy a gun, go to Nathan's Bar. Most businesses in the Eastern Continent are named after their owners. It's common. The bar's up north, on Daffodil Street."

He paused, then added, "When you get there, head to the counter and mention my name to the bartender. They'll know what to do."

"They'll either lead you to a room or give you the room number. Inside, you'll meet Ace Andersen. He's my cousin. He's the one you'll buy your gun and ammo from."

Loren reached into his coat and pulled out a few folded paper notes. "I'll also give you ten crown notes , your first salary, straight from me. You work under me, after all. Whether or not you get paid depends on me… and how well you complete the tasks I give you."

He handed the money to Seyla and continued, "Buy yourself a wallet, some decent clothes. You can't expect clients to trust you if you look like a stray. There's a store on the west side of the city for that."

Seyla nodded, taking the crisp crown notes. After a moment, he reached into his pouch and pulled out several gold marks.

"Can you exchange these for crown notes?" he asked, holding them out to Loren.

Loren took the gold, rummaged in his pocket, and handed Seyla a five-crown note in exchange. "There. That should cover it."

Seyla nodded.

Loren smirked and added, "Also, I'll be publishing your name in the newspaper. Consider it your official debut as a sheriff under the East Police Station." He chuckled lightly. "You're also our first sheriff, you know. Be proud of that."

After a few more exchanges, their conversation wrapped up. Seyla gave Loren a polite bow as a sign of respect for his elder.

Turning on his heel, Seyla left the long hallway and emerged into the familiar interior of the L'oreal East Police Station.

Nicole spotted him immediately. She smiled and waved. "So, you're officially one of us now, huh? Let me introduce myself properly this time. I'm Nicole, part of the Captain's team. What role did you choose?"

Seyla returned the smile. "Sheriff."

Nicole's eyes lit up. "Ah, so you'll be our station's very first sheriff. Not bad." She gave a playful smirk. "I'm the receptionist here at the station, but when I'm with the Captain's team, I fight. Yes," she added with mock pride, "I use a sword."

Seyla chuckled lightly at her sarcastic tone.

Nicole tilted her head. "Have you met the rest of the team yet?"

Seyla shook his head. "Not yet."

"Then it's a shame they're not here. They're out on a mission the Captain assigned," Nicole said with a grin. "It would've been fun introducing you."

"It's fine," Seyla replied with a small smile. "I'm sure there'll be missions where we'll need to work as a team eventually."

Nicole nodded. "Yeah, that time will come."

"Anyway, I should go. The Captain told me to buy some equipment… and decent clothes, apparently. He said clients won't trust me if I look like a stray."

Nicole laughed softly. "He's got a point."

Seyla gave a small wave. "See you around."

As he walked away, Nicole stared after him, thoughts racing.

He's a bit cold… or maybe that's just his personality… or…

Her cheeks warmed slightly. What if… he's already in love with me and just avoiding me?

She shook her head quickly. Calm down, Nicole… you're being delusional again.

Clearing her throat, she called after him, "Ehem… alright, see ya!"

Seyla lifted his left hand without looking back. "Bye."

With that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving Nicole smiling to herself.

Seyla on the Street

He looked around, scanning the busy street for a carriage. After a moment, he spotted a two-wheeled carriage nearby and raised his hand to signal the driver.

The driver noticed him and steered the carriage toward Seyla, bringing it to a stop beside him.

Seyla climbed in and leaned forward slightly. "North. Daffodil Street. Nathan's Bar."

The driver gave a short nod and flicked the reins.

The journey was quiet, the city passing by in a blur of old stone buildings and gas lamps. After about seven minutes, the carriage rolled to a stop in front of a rather large building tucked along the corner of Daffodil Street.

"That'll be three Silver Marks," the driver said.

Seyla reached into his pouch, counted out three silver coins, and handed them over. Stepping down from the carriage, he looked up at the building. Weathered wood and faded paint framed the entrance, yet the place carried the steady hum of activity.

Nathan's Bar.

He straightened his coat and approached the door.

A sense of familiarity rose inside him.