"Morning. Care for some fresh corpses?"

For a corpse collector who had just wheeled out his barrow, seeking "goods" in the dim morning light, this was undoubtedly the most cordial greeting among neighbors.

When the first rays of sunlight attempted to pierce the darkness, what this city used to welcome the dawn was a dull, eerie indigo, like the color that would appear on the neck of a strangled man.

Purple City.

It was like a wedge, driven into the borderlands of the nations in the southeastern delta of the God's Grace Continent, an inconspicuous vassal city-state of the "Golden Isle," believing in the more worldly God of Wealth and Fortune, separate from the Seven Great Hall Gods.

The weather today was reasonably clear.

Of course, the brighter the sunlight, the more intensely… purple the city became.

As far as this corpse collector knew, it was all thanks to their uniquely tasteful City Lord.

His Lordship firmly believed that purple represented supreme wealth and nobility, and he was a City Lord generous to the point of being somewhat pathological, insisting on unreservedly sharing this "honor" with every single person in the city, calling it "sharing joy with the people."

As for why the city's residents so meekly accepted this almost obsessive "grace"?

There was no other reason—this City Lord was also the Deputy God Envoy of the God of Wealth and Fortune, so powerful and noble that no one dared to resist.

Thus, it had created this suffocating "Purple Swamp" before their eyes.

The streets were paved with purple bricks, the walls were smeared with varying shades of purple, and even the clothes worn by the residents were mandatorily required to be of a purple hue.

Damned purple.

Of course, considering that if one really couldn't afford compliant purple clothing, they could go to the relief station at the city gate to receive free, older-style garments—thinking of it this way, the "damned" degree seemed to lessen somewhat.

Anyway, the corpse collector pursed his lips; apart from the few clinking copper coins in his shriveled purse, everything here, all things purple, belonged to that City Lord.

The one who had just greeted him was a youth with short black hair and red pupils.

He looked like a boy, but his entire body was wrapped in a cloak, revealing only his face and a little hair.

His figure was somewhat slender, about one meter seventy in height.

Perhaps one might think him a bit short for a male, but in Purple City, where malnourished children were many, this was considered normal to above-average height.

The transaction was quick.

The youth led the corpse collector into an alley.

Inside, wrapped in straw, were some corpses he had picked up, or perhaps bought from families who had just lost someone—after all, a burial still cost money, so it was better to sell them directly.

After some back-and-forth price discussion, the final price was set at six blue silver coins and three steel Lishis; both sides were quite satisfied. (Twenty-five steel Lishis exchanged for one blue silver coin, and the exchange rate for blue silver coins to purple coins, and purple coins to gold coins, was twenty to one for both.)

The youth even helped the corpse collector move the corpses onto the cart and tie them down as an after-sales service.

Then, the corpse collector, with a forceful lift of both hands, pushed the cart forward.

"A few more hauls like this and I can knock off early today…" the corpse collector began to think about what to do after work: should he go to the bar early for a bite and a drink, or head to the brothel? This was a slightly difficult thought.

"Hmm?" The corpse collector saw a group of people wearing linen-colored cloaks walk by from across the street.

Not being purple meant they were outsiders; if they were traveling merchants or tourists staying here for a short time, they wouldn't need to change their entire attire to purple.

Merchants or tourists were very common here.

But what made the corpse collector suspicious, based on his many years of experience looking at corpses, was that he could tell several of the cloaked people were very sturdy.

And one of them had a skeletal frame that was probably more perfect than the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life, yet there was an indescribable, subtle sense of danger about them.

But the suspicion only lasted a moment; the corpse collector soon stopped looking at those people and pushed his cart away.

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In this world, every god would generously sow divine grace, bestowing upon countless mortals power and partial divine abilities; these people were respectfully called "Grace Bathers."

And a "God Envoy" was the god's sole and most favored representative left in the mortal realm, endowed with the privilege of direct communication with the god, and terrifying power capable of shaking mountains and rivers.

A Deputy God Envoy, as the name implied, was a direct subordinate of the God Envoy, similarly possessing formidable power beyond the reach of mortals.

It was just that, under the God Envoys of other faiths, there were often several Deputy God Envoys serving as trusted aides and strategists; whereas His Majesty the Golden King, who wielded the authority of the God of Wealth and Fortune, had appointed only the City Lord of Purple City—"Purple Man"—as his sole Deputy God Envoy to command.