The morning sun shines on me, warming my shivering body as I queue up in a line, bucket in hand. Though there’s no mighty plague or virus rummaging the lands, people look to be keeping their distance from me.

To be frank, things have been horrible for me. It’s been a week here in Astata and not only have I made no progress, but I’ve also drained my wallet. The only piece of food I’ve gotten is a now stale piece of bread that cost fifteen Vira. The baker took pity on me and gave it for ten. The rest of my Vira was used for a night in the stables. The smell of manure was so strong, that I can still feel it in my nostrils to this day. Straw constantly poked me, and to be honest, it was the same experience as the inn. That was better than sleeping on the ground though.

These buildings used to look so cool, but now they just feel like a monotonous mess of wood and bricks, even the city back home looked more interesting. I’ve tried circling the city but right now, conserving my energy is more important, so I haven’t gone too far from where I am. Getting lost would also not be ideal. The only notable thing I’ve seen other than the castle and walls is a river to the side of the city, and the snow-capped mountains with the purple cloud above them opposite to it. During the night, I think I saw a faint glow come from the cloud.

Despite how stupid it may have looked, I’ve tried to enter many buildings hoping I could get a job, but I get kicked out every time. 

I haven’t heard from Gron for days, so it looks like I’ve been properly abandoned. 

I’ve survived on the piece of bread I’ve been rationing and water I’ve been collecting in this bucket I found in an alleyway. Fortunately, free water can be drawn from pumps scattered around the city. I’ve been having very little food, so I feel quite weak.

I’m all alone now, but at least I have you, water pump. You’re my best friend. 

As I start filling my bucket, I plan my next course of action. Getting a job is out of the question now, so what’s next seems to be alternative ways of earning money. I’ve tried begging on the streets for it, but all I was met with are stones to the face. The pieces of shit, fortunately, missed my glasses but I hope these scabs don’t make me look ugly. 

The option I will be trying today is selling the sword, hopefully, I can get a hefty bag of Vira out of that. Another option I have is to explore the city and hope there’s something anywhere, there might be no hope here though because of the bullshit that is the “Order of Iron”. I think I classify as a beggar now so it applies to me. 

My last option is to leave the city. Hopefully, I can scavenge for food out there. Heck, maybe the Order of Iron doesn’t even apply there so someone can help me. I could maybe shoplift and steal food, but I would rather starve than sabotage people's livelihoods.

On another note, my progress on understanding Cordia. I’m trying to understand Cordia through patterns, but what everyone says sounds drastically different. I’ve heard two people ask me if I’m alright, but they said two different things. I’ve heard many iterations of ‘Hello’, ‘Yes’, ‘No’, ‘Goodbye’, but it sounds meaningless because of everyone’s different speech. The more well off looking people have more similar speech, but I don't get to go near many of them The only thing that’s the same with everyone are nouns. Despite the different words everyone says, to my ears it all sounds the same. 

If I could understand them, why can’t they understand me? What makes what they say so special? Does it have anything to do with how Cordia “communicates to the soul” or was the dickwad Orc just saying random shit? Since everyone treats my inability to speak, but my ability to understand them as normal, I’ve ruled out this being a gift from the goddess. 

I’ve been the only one I’ve seen like this, but there has been no mention to me about Raquia. This doesn’t seem common enough that people would omit the mention of divine magic or whatever in conversations, but it doesn’t seem rare enough that they’re weirded out. Maybe she left me here to die after all. A sick goddess that likes to watch earthlings suffer and starve to death in a strange cruel world.

Even so, I do not want to go back to earth. I can survive here. It's a fresh start and I know I can make it.

Then, I feel a tap on my shoulder. Finally, could it be?

“Oi dickhead! Your bucket’s overflowing! There’s like twenty people behind you!”

I feel like I’ve been hearing swears and insults more often. It's starting to feel like when I visited my aunt in Australia.

Ignoring the creature screaming behind me, I gulp out of my bucket to stop it from spilling and leave. 

After walking for a couple of minutes, I arrive at the alleyway I’ve been sleeping in. Before I’m able to drop off my water bucket, two men, one sitting, the other standing are in my alleyway. It looks like the slime bags have uncovered the cloth I’ve been using as both a cover and a tarp, and have taken my last piece of bread. 

One of the men is wearing some clothes I don’t see around here often, must be a foreigner. It vaguely reminds me of native American garb. He seems to be giving the beggar some food. 

Is the Order of Iron a lie? A lie made up by that stupid cat hat guy to trick me? This man is feeding another man right here and nothing is happening. Just a man getting fed while I stand here without anything.

Wait. Maybe he’s kind enough to help me too. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched if he also had something for me, right? 

I approa-

“Out of the way!”

A man in armour shoves me away from the alleyway. I crash to the ground and my head is knocked into a daze. The muffled sounds of yelling, pleading, and shuffling armour fill my ears. It takes me a while to get myself together. By the time I get up, the only thing left in the alleyway is blood on the ground.

My eyelid instantly shuts itself as the blood flowing down my face makes its way down to my chin. At least it missed my glasses which are still miraculously intact.

Despite my killer headache, I’m able to think of getting myself patched up. 

As I rip a piece off the cloth I’ve been using as a tarp and wrap it around my wound, my vision starts spinning. I start to taste the little bit of food I’ve eaten coming out of my mouth, but I manage to hold it down.

I have time to do whatever I was going to do. Maybe I just have to doze off a little and I’ll be ok…

“What was I gonna do again?” 

My head is still spinning as I open my eyes. How long have I been out? It feels like it’s only been a split second. There’s a wound on my head which I can vaguely remember how I got. 

Taking a large gulp out of my bucket, I choke on it a little but it makes me feel a bit better.

I think I was gonna sell my sword… Yeah, that’s right. I was planning to go and sell my sword, but some dickwad stole my bread, then he and some guy got arrested.

Ah! That human garbage of a guard knocked me down. I remember now. Why is everyone in this world so garbage? This garbage Rule of Iron, the garbage guards, the garbage idiot shopkeepers who won’t let me in, and something still smells like shit!

It’s still the afternoon, I should have more than enough time.