Silas walked straight into the dark quiet living room of his luxury apartment.

He didn’t bother flipping the wall switch to turn on the overhead crystalline chandeliers, because they were already on.

’I really didn’t off these things...?’ Silas thought, but regardless even if they were off, he would have still been able to see.

His Mythic Gold Core provided flawless perfect night vision.

The sprawling high-end furniture and the polished hardwood floors were perfectly illuminated in his eyes.

"Fucking hell!"

Silas tossed his damp coat casually over the back of a plush leather armchair.

He walked directly toward the massive, wall-mounted, high-resolution smart TV hanging perfectly flush against the white marble accent wall.

"Before heading back... I should actually use my apartment at the very least." Silas muttered, he had bought this place to be a base of sorts but still... what was the point of paying for the monthly electrical bill if he didn’t even use it?!

’If it was like that then I’d be the very rich mongers I hate.’ Silas thought, imagine buying a whole vacation house just to never use it!

He picked up the sleek minimalist remote control resting on the glass coffee table and pressed the power button.

The massive screen instantly flared to life as the aggressive fast-paced audio track of a local evening news anchor immediately filled the quiet apartment.

"—and the unprecedented global phenomenon surrounding the anonymous rookie Lord of ’The Blessed Land’ continues to completely dominate the market index!"

The screen displayed a massive rotating holographic graphic of the Global Evaluation Leaderboards.

Silas’s exact, specific kill count of 1,420 was plastered in massive glowing blue digital numbers right next to his SSS-Rank evaluation.

The news anchor practically leaned entirely out of the screen.

The man wore a pristine expensive alchemical silk suit and was aggressively, frantically hyping the situation directly to the camera.

"The major corporate syndicates are in a bloodthirsty bidding war tonight, folks!" the anchor yelled enthusiastically, waving a digital data-pad. "The standing bounty offered to the individual who can legally prove they hold the territorial deeds to The Blessed Land has officially skyrocketed! The offer is now sitting at a staggering four billion Spirit Credits! I repeat, four billion liquid credits just to sit down at the negotiating table!"

Silas stood in the center of the living room, staring at the screen.

He let out a short chuckle.

’Four billion to sit down at the table,’ Silas thought, highly amused by the sheer desperation of the elites. ’They are entirely willing to bankrupt a small country just to buy me over to their side?’

Regardless he was not falling for any trap, he wanted to be the kind of Lord that these girls would follow... He didn’t want to share them with any corporation or any other man or woman.

’Mine... all of them... they’re mine.’ Silas thought then blinked. ’I’m making it really weird... but that’s how I feel.’

He casually pressed the channel up button on the remote. He had zero interest in hearing the corporate media glaze his combat stats any further.

The screen flickered black for a fraction of a second.

"—LET GO OF ME! YOU ARE OPPRESSING MY TRUTH!"

The new channel displayed a live shaky-cam street broadcast right outside a local Valoria City news station.

A young agitated man was actively being dragged away from a public podium by two heavily armored and thoroughly exhausted local police officers.

The guy wore a crude homemade cardboard sign around his neck.

He was completely frothing at the mouth, kicking his sneakers wildly against the wet cobblestones.

"MEN SHOULDN’T EVEN HAVE BASIC HUMAN RIGHTS!" the protester screamed hysterically into the nearest extended microphone. "We are fundamentally defective! Every single male child should start their life in a maximum-security prison from the exact moment they are born!"

The camera zoomed in on the guy’s wild crazy eyes.

"We should only be released on strict state-monitored probation when we legally mature!" the guy shrieked, fighting the handcuffs. "Men are absolutely not worth the oxygen we consume! Put me in a cage!"

The two armored police officers finally managed to physically throw the hysterical guy into the back of a hovering patrol cruiser.

They slammed the heavy metal door shut, cutting off his muffled screaming. Silas stood completely frozen in the middle of his living room.

He stared blankly at the TV screen with his jaw dropped slightly.

’What in the actual hell did I just watch?’ Silas wondered, he was genuinely bewildered.

Silas rubbed the back of his neck.

’Did he just legally advocate for his own permanent lifelong incarceration? Is that a real functioning political movement in this city, or did that guy just lose an incredibly high-stakes bet?’

He let out a long exhausted sigh.

Earth politics were officially far more confusing and significantly more annoying than dodging toxic monsters in the mud.

The pampered citizens of this city had too much free time on their hands.

He pressed the button and changed the channel again, leaving it on a generic broadcast.

He tossed the remote back onto the glass table and walked directly into the sprawling, state-of-the-art kitchen.

His stomach gave a low, heavy rumble.

’I wonder if Kaelia has already cooked dinner back at the Keep,’ Silas thought, pulling open the heavy door of the sleek silver refrigerator. ’The girls burn through a massive amount of caloric energy locking those iron shields all day and they probably aren’t even expecting me to drop back into the realm tonight.’

He decided to cook for himself.

He needed to make absolutely sure his own baseline mundane culinary talents were still functional.

He couldn’t rely completely on a summoned S-Rank Chef every single time he wanted to eat a decent meal.

Self-sufficiency was the cornerstone of survival!

He reached into the fridge and pulled out the fresh ingredients he had casually purchased from a street vendor while the mag-cab was stuck in commercial traffic.

’Apparently there’s technology that can automatically teleport items to your fridge...’ Silas thought.

He set a heavy block of seasoned ground beef, a bundle of robust dark red tomatoes, fresh garlic cloves, and a box of dry spaghetti noodles onto the pristine white marble island.

"It’s just something really simple."

He grabbed a heavy cast-iron pot from the overhead rack, placed it squarely on the induction stove, and filled it with filtered water. He cranked the heat to maximum.

As he began rapidly dicing the fresh tomatoes with a heavy kitchen knife, he noticed a glowing, semi-transparent holographic icon floating directly in the corner of his peripheral vision.

[Portable TV]

"Portable Television? Is it like a hologram or something?" Silas muttered as he paused. He was still not used to the luxuries of the people that were pretty well off.

He tapped the icon with a wet finger.

It was an advanced integrated smart-home feature linked directly to the living room TV.

He had briefly read about it in the apartment’s lease manual.

It allowed the resident to project a secondary audio-visual feed straight into the kitchen workspace.

Silas swiped his finger smoothly through the air.

BOOP!

He anchored the floating high-definition hologram directly above the stove.

The broadcast playing on the screen was a massive regional beauty contest.

Despite physical beauty being a highly superficial, easily purchased alchemical commodity in this specific world, the models currently walking down the illuminated runway still possessed a staggering amount of natural biological symmetry.

The announcer enthusiastically read off their heavily curated measurements, praising their flowing, perfectly styled hair and completely flawless, glittering silk gowns.

Silas watched the screen casually while he dumped the dry spaghetti noodles into the boiling water.

He scraped the chopped tomatoes, the crushed garlic, and the seasoned ground beef directly into a hot skillet.

The olive oil instantly, violently sizzled, filling the kitchen with a rich savory aroma.

He looked at the highly trained models posing on the holographic screen.

He subconsciously, automatically ran a direct comparison between the women currently competing for a plastic crown and the women currently sleeping in their beds in the Warlord Barracks..

’Honestly,’ Silas analyzed while stirring the simmering meat sauce with a wooden spoon. ’Brida has significantly better shoulder definition and core stability than half of them. Tamsin’s resting combat posture is infinitely more athletic.’

His mind instantly flashed to Eluned.

He pictured the SSS-Rank Goddess standing in the center of the stone courtyard.

"Eluned is really beautiful..." Silas muttered as he pictured her perfect flawless silver-green hair blowing in the wind, and her glowing eyes.

She was a Goddess so it was to be expected...’

’Eluned naturally eclipses every single woman on this stage combined,’ Silas finalized the thought with zero hesitation. ’Rowena too... she’s quite beautiful, maybe even Kaelia.’

It wasn’t even a fair comparison.

The models on the screen looked like fragile mass-produced porcelain dolls while Eluned looked like a walking breathing force of nature because she was...

He reached out to pull the hot, bubbling skillet off the active burner.

SHHHHH!!!

He completely forgot to grab a heat-resistant silicone towel. His bare, calloused hand clamped directly down onto the white-hot heavy cast-iron handle.

Silas flinched instinctively.

His brain braced for a violent, searing wave of pure thermal agony to shoot straight up his forearm.

He looked down at his hand.

...Nothing happened.

"Oh... I forgot."

The skin on his palm didn’t blister. It didn’t even turn slightly red or itch.

The sheer baseline physical density of his Mythic Gold Core rendered his flesh entirely, completely immune to standard thermal damage.

A hot frying pan simply lacked the required energy output to breach his defense.

’Right,’ Silas realized, casually lifting the sizzling white-hot pan completely off the stove with his bare hand. ’I am literally bulletproof now... I really need to get used to that...’

Silas smoothly plated the drained spaghetti.

He poured the rich steaming meat sauce perfectly over the top of the noodles, garnishing it with a pinch of salt.

"Haaah~ what a good job if I do say so myself..."

He grabbed a heavy silver fork, walked over to the small polished kitchen dining table, and sat down.

Silas flicked his finger in the air, using the holographic interface to casually change the channel from the beauty pageant to a generic contact sports broadcast.

He took a generous, steaming bite of the pasta.

"Not bad..." Silas complimented his own work aloud, chewing thoughtfully.

He took another bite.

"It lacks the perfect and refined taste that Kaelia achieves with her class skills," Silas critiqued fairly, and it was okay because he could never be as great of a cook as her. "But the garlic ratio is solid so its definitely good."

He rapidly finished the meal in comfortable silence, completely cleaning the plate.

He stood up, walked back to the deep stainless-steel sink, and washed the plate and the silver fork.

"There’s not too much to do here." Silas said, he didn’t have friends to talk to or a girlfriend to take out on a date... He preferred it like that though.

Silas rinsed them thoroughly and set them carefully in the drying rack and then he closed the floating holographic tab with a quick dismissive swipe of his hand.

’I’ll upgrade the items first and then I’ll head back.’ Silas thought

He walked back into the living room, picked up the remote, and clicked the TV completely off, plunging the luxury apartment back into comfortable silence.

He turned toward the hallway, heading directly for his sprawling master bedroom.

He needed to upgrade his gear...

Silas stopped halfway down the corridor.

He suddenly remembered the piece of embossed parchment paper he had collected from the blonde lead clerk back at the textile boutique.

’Fuck, I should probably save her number...’

He reached into the deep pocket of his dark tactical trousers, fumbling around for the paper.

His fingers brushed against a smooth, rigid edge and Silas pulled the object out.

It was the expensive Hero Summoning Card he had received from Elora.

"Idiot," Silas muttered to himself, shaking his head in genuine self-deprecation.

He had completely stuffed a half-million-credit magical artifact directly into his casual pants pocket right next to his spare change.

He instantly triggered his Lord Interface.

A small spatial tear opened, and he sucked the glowing card safely and permanently into his secured digital Lord Inventory.

He reached into his opposite pocket and pulled out the folded piece of expensive parchment.

Silas read the elegant handwritten digits inked across the center then he pulled out his sleek black Spirit Phone and dialed the number.

The line rang exactly twice before picking up.

"H-hello?" Elise’s voice answered.

She sounded incredibly breathless and heavily anxious.

"Elise. It’s Silas Graves..." Silas greeted her smoothly.

He could practically hear the blonde retail worker physically melt through the encrypted phone line.

"Lord Graves!" Elise gasped. Her voice completely dropped its rigid professionalism as it instantly became shy and incredibly eager. "I... I honestly wasn’t entirely sure you would actually call."

"I told you I would keep your offer in mind," Silas replied easily, leaning his shoulder against the hallway wall. "I’m just saving your number to my active contacts... I am heading back into the Sovereign Realm tonight. I’ll reach out directly to you when I need another bulk supply order processed."

"O-of course!" Elise agreed frantically with her excitement bleeding through the speaker. "I will personally ensure your orders are heavily prioritized above all other clients! Please... please stay safe out there in the territory."