Entering the Swampside District got her nose assaulted by the stale air that permeated the area's every inch.

  Carts and wagons filled to the brim with food pass them by, no stench came from such things and it can even be said that the opposite is true: the food on them smells so good that it's capable of turning heads.

  Families in Flotol have chosen to follow Rontress' path four years ago, where they come out of Flotol to sell food, because of this, the inner parts of the Swampside District is full of stalls, restaurants, and family owned diners. There are sweets, roasted, fried, or baked food for anyone to enjoy and the supply is often higher than the demand.

  Besides that, there are also smithies that sell tools, butcher shops that sell raw meat, and stores full of spices, raw vegetables, and fruits. The only thing lacking around here are family owned buildings since most of the sellers live in Flotol and only come here in the morning to sell.

  Why is that? It's simple: The Swampside District isn't the best place to live in, even with all the guards patrolling it, this place is far more dangerous than Flotol due to all the high leveled adventurers frequently visiting.

  "Hi miss! Would you like to buy this apple?" A kid around 7 years old came up to them, he wore an old shirt repaired with a patchwork of stitches and shorts that stopped above the knees.

  This was one of the urchins who lived on the streets or within the house of the many merchants who settled here. If they don't or can't do physical labor, such kids either steal, lie, and do just about everything to survive. The apple he was holding would have come from the first thing.

  Questioning the kid where the rest of his apples are or why he only has one isn't a good idea so Rontress shook her head, "I don't want one, I just finished eating."

  "Oh okay." Disappointed but not quite clear on giving up, the kid moves past them and searches for another person to sell his stolen apple to.

  "How come people like that still exist? I thought you fixed Flotol?"

  "I did." Rontress answered without hesitation, of course she already fixed Flotol, the pier is functional now and everyone in that town are living lives they would have thought were impossible in the past. Even Laself's parents tried for another kid due to how easy life has been.

  "Then why? Or rather, how?"

  "Because merchants bring them in here, or families in Ghorise can't raise them properly so they're either tossed out or sold. Simple as that." Calling Rontress cold would be fitting considering that she's not doing anything to fix that particular problem.

  And she would, if it didn't stem from the people and instead was an economic one, she would have done everything to fix it assuming it was possible. But it isn't, not unless she uses mind control.

  At the same time, she's also at fault.

  "That tank still hasn't been cleaned?" Ifira's nose wrinkled in disgust as they passed by a wooden platform with a glass tank at the bottom, what she complained about were the hand stains on the glass. "Disgusting."

  Despite all the laws that she placed around the tourist spots and just within Flotol as a whole, the Swampside District still wasn't the best vacation spot. But that's intentional, the district was designed to be a somewhat lawless area where poorer merchants can do shady stuff.

  Drugs are the sole exception to this and whenever she discovers that people are selling such addictive things, a public execution is quickly scheduled and she makes sure that it is as painful as possible.

  Hence why there's three water tanks in the middle of the road, they aren't just for how but are execution blocks meant to show what happens to criminals who commit atrocities Rontress hasn't permitted.

  Drowning people publicly would be outlawed in the future, if it didn't come from the royal family then she herself would seek to ban it within Oberlon. Right now though? It's a necessary evil that keeps Flotol safe from drugs that can ruin people's lives.

  But that kind of death wouldn't come to a criminal right as long as they aren't selling or using drugs. Here, every other crime is fair game and only has a few month's worth of imprisonment should someone be caught.

  Rontress deliberately loosened the rules around this place for the sole reason that she didn't want nobles and rich merchants to come here, as it is a risk to their safety and finances. There have been complaints in the past about how it's unfair for a thief to not lose their hands even after stealing but she ignored it and let the thief live.

  That got the greedy bastards to be wary of putting up stalls around the Swampside District. This also coincidentally keeps the prices of the local area low, allowing for the poor to enjoy it without worrying about digging themselves into debt.

  Unlike the Gilded District. There, debts are a common occurrence for those stupid enough to think they are worth more than their estimated net worth.

  Having the Swampside District in this state means that she has to keep up a constant balance of safety and danger, which would be impossible in a modern world but here?

  "Hey!"

  "I'm sorry—"

  Rontress didn't even stop to look at the commotion, a man had caught a kid trying to steal something from his stall and had reacted accordingly. Will he be fined for beating up the kid after the guards get to him? No, not really. Rontress loosened the laws around here for that exact reason: so that people can say they simply defended themselves and were not accountable for the harm they caused others.

  She has forgotten their faces but the vague impressions of her old friends in the depths of her memory tells her that they would be horrified if they see what Rontress has become.

  Weirdly enough, she doesn't understand why they would freak out. She herself is terrified of this, as it's becoming clear that her modern morals have eroded over time and whatever life she leads on earth is starting to lose importance over time.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Maybe she should just stop thinking about it and just focus on her new life here in Pwofuria. Her modern education has helped her a ton but unless it's the very thing she used to do as a job— coding. — then everything she knows can be summed up in a few sentences.

  Rontress knew that her knowledge base is shallow, education from high school and below ensures that kids are versatile but do not specialize, the latter happens in college and Rontress has already put her college education to good use by making her current gear.

  Is that not enough? To her, it is.

  'I don't understand why I need to work on my morals anyway, I mean, I don't even remember most of Earth's etiquette. Or did it have any? I'm not sure.' She remembers social situations where she has to pretend to be kind... Vaguely.

  Everything else is just fuzzy now. What did she do during her first childhood? What about when she went to high school? Was it fun? She can't recall anything anymore.

  Actually, most of the memories from her past life's childhood have already been impossible to remember in her mid-twenties. She knows that whenever her parents talked to her about how she was as a kid she just spaces out, she did not know what they were talking about because she couldn't remember.

  Now? Nothing comes up, not even feelings. It's all just empty every time she tries to remember, the little bit of fear that she felt from the thought of losing her last identity is slowly disappearing as well, becoming obsolete in the face of growing logic.

  Rontress, after a while, chose to ignore it completely.

  The knowledge of her past life still exists even if the memories of her existence no longer do, as shallow as it is, the former is far more useful right now.

  A shop that sells lunch was the place they chose to stop at, since it was still early, the two of them found a seat shortly after entering.

  "All of these feel like they won't taste good, what even is "aberrant meat with milk sauce"? I don't get it." Ifira continued reading the menu anyway, unaware of the store's state all around her.

  Rontress could feel the mold growing on the walls calling to her, the amount of spores in the air made it impossible for her to ignore them and the moss on that table gave an outline of the furniture in her mind.

  Uncomfortable wouldn't be right to describe her current state as she is on the verge of snapping. She wanted to grab the owner of this place and ask them why it's so unhygienic or if the food is even safe, she has a feeling that it isn't. Seriously.

  Rontress pushed through it anyway, she ordered food— just simple omelettes with meat, onions, and fish. — and waited for it to come to her.

  She didn't dare spy on the kitchen while her meal was cooking nor did she bother to worry about the chef's cleanliness while waiting. Her worries don't matter until she sees the result for herself, whatever her gut is telling her might be wrong. Even if it rarely isn't.

  Letting the source of her worries slide this time around had been done because she knows she's biased when it comes to food thanks to one of her sub classes, which means her opinions on the shop aren't the same as that of a normal person.

  The only option here is to wait for Ifira to eat and see her reaction, and if Ifira says that she doesn't like the food then Rontress is gonna move and give this place hell. She almost wishes this shop has gotten warnings in the past, that way it can just be shut down.

  When the food came, Rontress' face creased in distaste, she picked up the spoon and transmuted it, her touch cleaned the utensil thoroughly, this gave her some peace of mind to what she is about to do.

  Her spoon found the soft flesh of the egg and Rontress could feel the texture through the utensil, and she didn't even have an intimate connection to it! The way it crumbled under the bluntness of the spoon was soggy, like a piece of sponge that had been filled with water and mold. Something resisted her efforts to cut.

  'Oh thank god, at least the fish is cooked properly.' And it also doesn't have bones! Which is saying a lot given the quality she expected this thing to have. 'Too much spices, and the taste doesn't even blend that well. The fish meat is too soft, I can't even chew it.'

  Overall, this thing felt like someone's art project that they thought was somehow amazing? But it turns out it was actually the worst thing in the world, putting this in their menu might as well be a grave sin.

  Genuinely speaking, Rontress considered making a law that stops people from cooking bad food thanks to this.

  "How's the food Ifira?" She stopped eating for a moment, removing her personal bias from the equation was what a leader should do. "Pretty good?"

  "Yep!" Ifira gave her a thumbs up, so at least her best friend was enjoying this. "It's incredibly good!"

  Ending her thoughts with— 'Yeah, okay, guess this slop isn't actually bad, I'm the problem.' — left a sour taste in Rontress’ mouth, which quickly disappeared the moment she forced herself to eat her food.

  The egg was soggy— seriously, did they deep fry this or something? — the meat was hard, the fish was soft, and the flavors didn't blend together well, this is only made worse by the fact that the omelette has too much spice. But underneath all of that, past the texture and physical state of the food, the omelette at least didn't taste bad.

  Good enough is the standard here in the Swampside District, no one is competing to make the best food in the world, nor are they bragging about how they're the best chef ever.

  People here are just cooking to sell, it isn't an art nor is it anything of grave importance, they want to earn money and this is their way of doing it. Is the food bad? No. Is it amazing? Also no. But it's good.

  And that's enough.

  'I'm still gonna send an inspector here though.' Rontress thought with a scowl. 'Good food or not, it doesn't change the fact that they need to clean this place.'

  Finishing the entire omelette took a lot of willpower.

  She needed to drink something, preferably boiling milk. Rontress raised a hand and flagged a nearby waitress, the young woman smiled and rushed towards them.

  "Rontress, are you worried that Light Academy might not know what to do with us when we do the entrance exams?"

  "What do you mean?" Rontress tilted her head. If she remembers correctly, the academy did do something during canon. "Of course they would, they can just put us in the best classes and that's done isn't it?"

  "Okay, but what if—"

  "Ifira, calm down, we still have a year. What got you so worked up anyway?"

  "I'm just scared, that's all. Other nobles will be attending the academy, and maybe you'll... Start talking to them, you know?"

  "Whatever they say to me won't matter." Well, she is curious what kind of reputation Ifira had with children from other families. Especially during the years before the two of them met.

  "Uhm... I'm sorry to join in so suddenly but did I hear your names correctly?" When she came over to their table, she really didn't expect anything. They were talking by the time she reached them and the distance was just close enough for her to overhear their names.

  Rontress and Ifira. Now, she's no gossip like her aunt and mother but in all of Flotol and Ghorise, there are only two girls with names like that. Maybe she's wrong and there are other girls with the same name but what are the chances? Right?

  And she could be also wrong in assuming that these two are who she thinks they are. Because what are the chances?!

  Here?! Of all places?! What are they even gonna do here?! And doesn't Rontress herself cook for the two of them? Anything she cooks would put everything in this diner to shame, everyone knows that!

  So are they really the real deal? Are they?!

  "Sorry miss, I'm afraid you were mistaken." One of the girls turned and the waitress managed to take a peek at the face beneath her hood. She had the [Night Vision] passive due to all the scavenging she did as a child and that was enough to let her see the girl's features.

  Green hair, green eyes.

  Her heart began racing. Is this really her?

  "Ah—"

  "You were mistaken." Rontress, the real one, said with a smile. "Right?"

  "Y-yes of course! I was! I'm sorry!"

  "Oh, would you look at that, you attracted the attention of other people." Rontress stood up. "Let's go?"

  "We're done here anyway." Ifira— because who else would it be? — followed by her friend and the two of them silently left the shop.