"What's with that outfit?" Aiden looked Alan up and down, confusion written all over his face. "It's a long story…" Alan let out a heavy breath. He opened his mouth as if to explain, but in the end, he only sighed again. "Forget it." He turned and walked away without a second glance, his oval-shaped silhouette radiating pure desolation. "Well… d*mn." Watching Alan leave with his hands shoved in his pockets, Aiden could tell how crushed he was. Yet he felt no sympathy at all. If anything, he wanted to laugh. It was hard to imagine what kind of mental state someone had to be in to come up with an outfit like that. It was so over-the-top that just looking at it felt painful. "What's going on here?" Aiden turned to the silver-armored guard standing watch outside the room."Mr. Nighthale, it's more complicated than it looks." The guard sighed deeply. "Mr. Dankworth didn't do this on a whim. He was thinking entirely about Leafport." "Leafport?" Aiden froze. He never expected Alan's breakdown to be for such a noble reason. The guard nodded toward the room. "Didn't you bring those Dwarves back to Leafport, Mr. Nighthale?" "Yeah. So?" Aiden replied. "You know how unmatched the Dwarves' forging skills are," the guard explained. "They're second to none. And with Leafport in the middle of rebuilding, their help would be a godsend." That part made sense. "So once Mr. Dankworth heard the Dwarves had entered the city, he rushed over right away," the guard continued. "He tried everything to negotiate with them, hoping they'd stay and help with reconstruction." "I get that," Aiden said slowly. "But what does that have to do with him wearing… that?" After the explanation, Aiden was even more confused. The logic didn't connect at all."Mr. Nighthale, those Dwarves are strange folk," the guard said in a low voice. "For days now, no matter how Mr. Dankworth approached them or what method he used, they wouldn't give him the time of day. He could barely get a word in." There was a trace of bitterness in his tone. "So… he got desperate. He thought maybe he could cater to their tastes. He heard you brought the Dwarves into the city using several wagonloads of rice, so he…" "No way." Aiden stiffened, his eyes widening in horror. What? Don't tell me… He dressed up as rice? Absolutely unhinged. Aiden couldn't understand this kind of performance art, and he was completely shaken by it. This was beyond insane. What kind of deranged thought process could lead to something like this? The silver-armored guard sighed and wiped at the corner of his eye, struggling to keep his lips from curling upward. "Mr. Dankworth is carrying too much on his shoulders.""That's… true," Aiden said. He looked in the direction Alan had disappeared, his emotions tangled. This wasn't just carrying too much. This was legendary madness. Aiden could practically picture it. Alan, meticulously dressed, wriggling with enthusiasm as he knocked on the Dwarves' door, thinking to himself, If you won't look at me, at least look at the rice. You may hate humans, but you don't hate rice, right? Maybe, if they were happy enough, they'd finally be willing to talk. Then the Dwarves, eyes deep and unreadable, would say they were open to terms. Alan, ecstatic, would declare that as long as Leafport could be rebuilt, he'd do anything, and he'd start stripping on the spot. Only for the Dwarves to say, calmly, "Don't. We just want the rice." And just like that, a deal would be struck through sheer absurdity.But reality was far less kind. Alan's unhinged logic failed to win over the Dwarves. Every sacrifice he made was meaningless, and he was unceremoniously thrown out. Aiden couldn't imagine what state of mind Alan was in at that moment, but it definitely wasn't a healthy one. Just looking at his retreating figure told the story. That bleak silhouette against the sunset was the funeral of his dignity. Mr. Dankworth… why go this far? Aiden sighed. As expected of Leafport's City Lord. In two lifetimes, Aiden had never seen a brain circuit this explosive. Even fairy-tale writers wouldn't dare make this up. "I understand now." Aiden nodded to the guard and pushed open the door. "Again? Are you done yet? I told you, if you come back one more time, I won't hold back. I don't care if you're Nighthale's friend, I'll still pound you into the—"Before Aiden could say anything, Thor's thunderous shout filled the room. The air roared as a short, stocky figure grabbed a massive hammer and charged toward the doorway with murderous intent. "Thor. It's me." Aiden spoke calmly. "Huh? Nighthale? Oh, it's you." Thor froze mid-swing, awkwardly stuck in place. "I thought it was that blind idiot Alan again. Sorry about that." "It's fine," Aiden said, unfazed, as he walked inside. Judging by Thor's level of rage, Alan hadn't exactly been a rare visitor these past few days.