If it had been half an hour earlier, Ronan would have struggled to come up with a response. But now, after reading through the book, he had already formulated an answer.

In fact, it was only after reading the history of Acrolius that he had come to the conclusion that continuing with the smokescreen of being from The Sanctuary was a bad idea. It was not a solid foundation on which he could safely weave his story. That plan had a huge risk of him getting exposed.

"I am from the North," Ronan replied.

"From the North?" Elicia questioned with a frown.

"Yes," Ronan responded. "Have you heard of North Star City?"

There was a flash of surprise on Elicia’s face, and her eyes widened slightly.

"North Star City?" she mumbled. "You are from North Star City?"

Ronan shook his head.

"No," he replied. "I am not from North Star City. I am from a hidden settlement, a hidden city located one-hundred kilometres further north of North Star City."

"But there is nothing north of North Star City," she interjected instinctively.

"As I said, my settlement is a hidden place," he answered. "It is barely known by anyone in the outside world."

"My city," he drawled, "is a unique place with a unique history. I won’t go too deeply into that right now. I could, but there are certain rules I need to follow, and I cannot tell you much about my home. These are safety protocols we must follow."

"Though I am a bit of a rebel in nature," he added with a chuckle, "there are certain lines that even I do not cross."

"Just know," he continued, his voice turning serious, "that in recent times, a group of researchers in my city have come up with a few unique products."

"Like the bread you saw. The fried chicken rice you ate yesterday. The water bottles. And I am an agent who has been tasked with establishing a supply chain to sell these products," he concluded.

Elicia did not react immediately. She simply stared at him with narrowed eyes.

"Are you telling the truth this time?" she asked, a moment later.

Ronan shrugged with a nonchalant expression.

"It is up to you to believe it or not," he responded. "I cannot really give you any physical proof."

"But looking at it from another perspective," he continued. "You are holding the biggest proof in your own hands right now. The packets of bread and the water bottles. And that is what should truly matter."

"I am not going to persuade you or force you, but you have a choice to make. You can become my partner in this business and earn some serious wealth for yourself. If not, I am sure I will find plenty of other people who would be willing to do this without even caring where I am sourcing these products from."

"Who said I do not want to do this?" She almost snapped. "I was merely pointing it out. Besides, I do not care where you are getting these things from either."

"Great!" Ronan smiled.

"One more thing," Ronan added. "If possible, I do not want to reveal anything about my city to any other person apart from you. I would prefer it if you kept this completely to yourself."

"I only told you because you wrongly assumed that I was from The Sanctuary," he said.

"I do not see a problem with that," Elicia responded. "If he asks, I will just tell him that this is something that cannot be revealed."

A few more minutes passed before a succession of knocks sounded at Elicia’s door.

"He is here," Elicia said, whispering toward Ronan.

She moved toward the door and unlocked it. She stepped aside, and an old man walked inside the apartment.

The man appeared to be in his late sixties. He was completely bald, without a single strand of hair on his head, but was sporting a short, trimmed white beard that seemed meticulously well maintained.

The man was short in stature. He was dressed entirely in black. Black jeans, a black shirt, a black coat over it, and heavy black boots. His face was gruff, and from a single glance, Ronan could tell that he was a highly experienced man. He was someone who had seen a great deal in his lifetime.

People like him were dangerous. Ronan resolved in his mind to be extra careful around this man. He also spotted a metallic black coloured handgun strapped securely between the old man’s shirt and jeans.

"Ronan," Elicia said, standing between the two of them. "This is Alartun."

"And Alartun," she continued the introductions. "This is Ronan, the friend I told you about."

Alartun smiled warmly, or at least, he attempted a warm expression. He took a couple of steps forward and arrived in front of Ronan with his hand extended. Ronan also smiled in response and shook the old man’s hand.

"Let us have a seat," Elicia suggested.

Alartun nodded and took his seat on one of the metallic sofas. Ronan sat directly opposite Alartun, right across the table from him.

Elicia walked toward one of the rooms and emerged a moment later carrying a packet of bread and a water bottle in her hands. It was the same open packet that Elicia had opened back in the building where Ronan had first arrived outside the city of Kovliar. She placed both items on the table and took her seat next to Ronan.

Alartun raised his eyebrows in response. A deep frown had formed on his face. And though the old man did not show it explicitly, he was obviously not very pleased with the situation.

"When you told me that you had something you wanted to sell," he said, his voice hoarse and deep. "I was expecting something uniquely valuable. I was definitely not expecting a half eaten packet of bread and a single bottle of water."

"Or is this perhaps something that you have brought along for me as refreshments?" He asked sarcastically.

"The bread and the water bottle are exactly what is for sale," she replied confidently.

The old man raised his eyebrows once again.

"I will admit that the plastic wrap around the bread and the design of the bottle look a bit different, but I highly doubt it is something that would actually sell."

"Why do you not taste it first?" She asked. "Only after that will we truly be talking on the same page."

Alartun gave her a hard stare for a couple of tense moments before he slowly moved his hand toward the bread packet.

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