On the streets and in the alleys, dogs were busy with their "old dog cart-pushing" antics.
A cat arched its back, tail raised high, staring intently at the scene before letting out a sharp yowl and slipping away.
At this time of year, the City of Chaos was already filled with the breath of spring.
Ron rode in a carriage to the construction site of the private experimental zone.
Since Ron had provided ample funding, the place was always bustling with activity.
The Mana–Element Reaction zone had only just laid its foundation.
Meanwhile, the framework of the experimental research area was mostly complete.
In the eastern corner of the site, a simple laboratory had already been built. It could now be put into temporary use for basic experiments.
Unlike Harper's research, Illya's study of the Element Potato could be divided into several parts.
Some of the foundational research didn't require complex equipment.
All she needed was a quiet, clean laboratory.
So as soon as this corner lab was completed, it was assigned to Illya, allowing her to begin her research on the Element Potato.
Ron didn't disturb the construction crew. After taking a quick look around, he noticed Edith and Harper both helping at the site using earth magic.
Without going over to greet them, he headed straight to the corner laboratory.
"Any progress?"
It had been two or three days since the lab was completed. Because of the importance of the Element Potato, Ron came by every day to check on things.
Inside the lab, Illya sat at the experiment table, deep in thought. She was interrupted by Ron's voice and let out a sigh.
She shook her head, her expression troubled.
On the table were several metal plates engraved with different versions of mana storage arrays, capable of storing magical power.
The Element Potato was embedded within them, serving as a source of elemental replenishment.
"My perception clearly tells me that the Element Potato absorbs all six types of elements from the air—and doesn't release them again, storing everything inside."
"But the elements it stores end up as only one type."
Illya rubbed her forehead, still unable to comprehend what was happening.
Could it be that the six elements were fundamentally the same thing?
But how could that be?
Just thinking about it made her feel like her entire understanding of the world was on the verge of collapsing.
"In a few days, the instruments for measuring elemental concentrations in the air will arrive. I'll run more precise tests then."
"Once the single-element isolation chambers in the experimental zone are completed, I'll place the Element Potato in an environment completely lacking its corresponding element and see whether it still replenishes itself."
Illya muttered to herself, staring at the metal plates as if possessed.
"The equipment isn't complete yet—you don't have to overthink the theory for now."
Seeing her tangled up in her thoughts, Ron suggested:
"Just assume it really can absorb all elements indiscriminately to replenish itself. Where could it be used in everyday situations?"
"For example, your water condenser—if you install a water-element Element Potato, wouldn't it continuously produce water?"
"Or if you inscribe a levitation array onto a carriage and install a wind-element Element Potato, wouldn't it allow the carriage to float indefinitely?"
"If the Element Potato can be reused in this way, then in many cases where using elemental stones would be wasteful, it could easily replace them."
"You might want to think more about applications like these."
After hearing Ron's words, Illya fell into deep thought again.
Looking at the metal plates on the table, she realized she had indeed been overthinking things.
The power of the Element Potato was already evident. Rather than speculating blindly without proper equipment, it would be better to focus on something more practical.
"I understand, Your Highness Ron. For now, I'll focus my experiments on practical applications. Thank you for your guidance."
"No need to thank me. Your research is useful to me—that's enough."
After confirming the situation at the experimental zone, Ron took a carriage back to the flower shop. Passing through the storage room, he arrived at the café on the second floor of the Royal Capital.
Ever since the flower shop opened on Monlis Street in the Royal Capital, noble ladies who frequently gathered on Queen's Street had gradually learned about Ron's café.
And about the game, it is said to be utterly addictive once you start—War of the Gods.
Many noble ladies had initially been skeptical, but in the end, they all fell for it, coming back one, two, three—even seven times a week.
Although many of them couldn't participate in the first 'War of the Gods' Cup due to scheduling, they often came by to watch matches in their spare time.
So when Ron sat at the counter sipping a drink, noble ladies would come up one after another, greet him, and then head straight to the third floor.
"How's Sylvie's record?" Ron took a sip of the drink that looked like poison—"Starry Sky"—and asked casually.
Yuna sat behind the counter, sprawled lazily, tapping glasses of different sizes with a stirring spoon to produce crisp sounds as she replied:
"What do you think?"
"All I can say is, Sister Sylvie is incredibly persistent—strong-willed and unyielding."
"Even though she's always dead last, and the gap between her and second-to-last is bigger than the gap between second-to-last and first place, she still keeps going."
"Respect, truly."
Ron let out a dry chuckle, silently offering a moment of sympathy for Sylvie.
This was true love for mahjong.
Even after losing this badly, she could still keep playing—her mental state must be on the verge of collapse, right?
Thinking this, Ron carried his drink upstairs.
On the third floor, in Mahjong Room No. 4, seven or eight people were gathered.
Sylvie and three other contestants sat around the table, locked in an intense match.
Several noble ladies sat nearby watching, all gathered behind the other three players.
Even though Sylvie's side had the most space, no one was willing to sit there.
Because it was too frustrating to watch.
And since she was a sixth-tier mage, the noble ladies didn't dare to comment—they could only avoid looking.
Standing outside the room, Ron saw that Sylvie looked full of energy, her expression bright and focused. He was momentarily stunned.
The seriousness and concentration in her light green eyes bore no resemblance to her disastrous score.
She really does get stronger with every setback… I underestimated her…
Ron shook his head with a laugh and wandered back downstairs.
Looks like getting her to quit her mahjong addiction is impossible.
After finishing his "Starry Sky," Ron was just about to go find Nora when she came upstairs, looking anxious.
"Boss…"
"What's wrong?"
Nora glanced around the café, then grabbed Ron's hand. "Let's go back to the City of Chaos to talk. It's not convenient here."
Following Nora back to the flower shop in the City of Chaos, Ron was just about to ask what was going on when he saw Jorina, looking extremely anxious.
"Go on—what happened? Something wrong at Jorina's home?"
Jorina shook her head, then nodded. Upon seeing His Highness Ron, she found herself unable to speak.
Whether it was because of his status or his looks, it was hard to tell.
Nora explained, "Jorina said she rescued a beastfolk a few days ago."
"A beastfolk?" Ron was surprised.
Hearing this, Jorina grew visibly nervous and stammered, "I—I didn't just save him randomly… he helped me drive away some thugs…"
"Alright, alright." Ron felt a headache coming on. "One person talks. Start from the beginning and explain everything clearly."
"You go ahead," Nora said, patting Jorina's shoulder. "Don't be afraid. The Boss isn't like other nobles. Just tell it as you told me."
Encouraged by her idol, Miss Nora, Jorina nodded and began recounting the whole story.
Only then did Ron understand what had happened.
That day, after rescuing the beastfolk, Jorina carried him into a small storage room in her house.
But because of his identity, she couldn't ask anyone else for help.
If she went to the Church of the God of Healing, it would be no different from killing the beastfolk.
Asking a priest from the Church of the God of Healing to treat a beastfolk was like inviting your neighbor to your spouse's bed—completely unthinkable.
So Jorina could only use the leftover fragments of Scalevine she had, boiling them into medicine and feeding them to him.
At first, it worked somewhat.
After all, it was system-produced—top quality.
The beastfolk even regained consciousness briefly, only to fall unconscious again shortly after.
His external wounds stopped bleeding, but the internal injuries showed no improvement.
Especially after the medicinal dregs had been boiled over and over, they lost nearly all effectiveness.
Soon, the beastfolk developed a fever, his body burning hot, as if he could die at any moment.
With no other options left, Jorina finally sought out Nora.
If she did nothing, the beastfolk would surely die.
In that case, even if others discovered his existence, it was better than letting him die silently.
And since Nora was a half-beastfolk, she shouldn't be too hostile toward one, right?
With that thought, Jorina went to Nora.
But she hadn't expected Nora to immediately bring Ron.
That scared her badly.
After all, Ron was the Seventh Prince of the human empire—humans and beastfolk were mortal enemies. Why would he save one?
It would already be merciful if he didn't kill him on the spot.
But now that things had reached this point, Jorina could only force herself to finish the story.
"Got it." Ron nodded and walked toward the door. "Let's go take a look at this beastfolk at your house."
"Huh?" Jorina froze as Nora pulled her along. "His Highness Ron is coming too?"
"Of course."
A beastfolk…
As Ron got into the carriage, he thought about how, since arriving in this world, he had seen many dwarves, goblins, and elves.
He even had half-beastfolk like Nora and Yuna around him.
But he had never actually seen a true beastfolk.
Now that he had the chance to meet a living one, of course, he had to see it for himself.
Moreover, the appearance of a beastfolk in the City of Chaos was strange in itself—something worth investigating.
Usually, it would mean a beastfolk slave had escaped from some noble household.
But it was also possible that this one had traveled all the way from the Frozen Tundra.
If it were the latter, then its strength could not be underestimated.
If it suddenly lashed out after recovering, that would be troublesome.
The best approach was to assess the beastfolk's danger while it was still weak.
With these thoughts in mind, Ron's carriage slowly came to a stop outside Jorina's home in the eastern part of the city.