I finally made my way toward the inn sector. Yes—sector.
Not some random street full of question marks, or a narrow alley reeking of mystery and illegal tour guides.
A sector.
With a system.
With clearly labeled signs like:
"Official Imperial Lodging Sector – Service in Accordance with Standards."
Honestly, I was still half-convinced I was dreaming.
As soon as I entered the area, I saw dozens of buildings lined up neatly, each with polished bronze plaques displaying the inn's name, comfort level, and—even more unbelievably—the nightly rate WRITTEN OUT FRONT.
No "special prices for foreigners."
No "fake discounts for slow readers."
Everything was open.
Transparent.
Painfully so.
A middle-aged woman at one of the inns smiled at me from behind the reception desk, which was... clean.
Not the kind of moldy desk I usually hide behind to protect myself from curses or hidden traps.
No.
A normal desk.
With flowers. And brochures.
I even saw a guestbook.
A guestbook.
Who still uses that in a world where people charge "universal balance tax" for walking on the street?
"Welcome," she greeted me warmly. "Need a room, Adventurer?"
"…Yes," I replied, still suspicious. "But there's no blood sacrifice form or organ donation request involved, right?"
She laughed.
Laughed.
Not the evil kind.
A genuine, sincere laugh.
I was almost offended.
"No, don't worry. Just show your Adventure Knight license, and we'll apply the imperial government discount."
Ah.
Of course.
A discount.
From the government.
Is this some kind of collective dream?
I handed over my license with a slightly trembling hand. She wrote down my name, gave me a room key, and even offered me herbal tea as a welcome drink.
I nearly cried.
I hadn't even drawn my weapon yet.
No bizarre requests.
No soul traps.
No "mysterious challenge from a dimensional gatekeeper."
I climbed the stairs to my room with a feeling of… confusion.
Awe.
And to be honest, a little fear.
Because there's no way the world is just… comfortable.
There's no way the empire actually has a working system.
There has to be a crack somewhere.
There has to be madness hiding underneath.
Surely, I was supposed to undergo a spirit cleansing ritual just to take a nap.
But no.
The room I found was clean.
Bright.
With a soft bed, a writing desk, and a window that opened to the outside.
I stood there for quite a while, staring out at the city through the glass, and one question echoed in my mind:
What exactly is this place hiding?
Because if there's one thing I've learned from all the chaos I've survived so far, it's this:
When everything seems too perfect... it just means you haven't dug deep enough yet.
And I suppose… I'll start digging tomorrow morning.
After I sleep in a real bed.
One that doesn't scream when you touch it.