Chapter 1143 - The Difference between Martialists (1/2)

As one night in the Dream World was equal to two days in the real world, Roland took the three witches to Crown Hotel the next day evening.

“Your Majesty, is it true that we can eat whatever we want there?” Dawnen asked as she poked her head out of the rear window of his car, her eyes sparkling.

“Of course. It’s not that different from the party held by nobles. You should have attended many such parties back in the Union age, right?”

“But you couldn’t eat whatever you want at those parties.”

“Really?” Roland asked with curiosity.

“Yes,” Saint Miran, who was sitting in the passenger seat, supplied the answer with a nod. “Those parties were for prominent figures. They cared more about networking than the feast. Nobody wanted to talk to a person wolfing down food like a savage. You’d become a laughingtock if you did so. If it was a big party, most people would eat something first before going.” She swallowed hard and then said, “If Your Majesty fears that we will disgrace you, we’ll restrain ourselves.”

Roland was amused at the looks of the witches sitting in the back, who were not able to disguise their eagerness in time. He laughed, “Don’t worry. I always keep my words. This isn’t the Union. You aren’t in the king’s city either. We’re all just normal people. As long as you don’t make trouble, eat whatever you like.”

“Can… can I bring some food back?” Dido asked with excitement. “Many of my friends wished to attend this first class party.”

“Make sure nobody sees you doing that,” Roland replied indifferently. “Stay close when we get there. If someone approaches you, don’t get involved in a conversation. Let me deal with them.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the three witches chorused.

Around half an hour later, Roland and his party reached their destination.

Roland immediately understood this was a first-rate party. The vehicles parked in front of the hotel were, without exception, luxurious cars. Their car paint reflected off the lights in the city and formed a glaring contrast between them and Roland’s shabby little van.

Although martialists earned a lot of money, they were still not able to compare to real capitalists. To avoid unwelcome attraction, Roland had bought the most common van available on the market. He had not anticipated, however, that his van would become the most eye-catching vehicle among all the fancy cars.

“Sir, the hotel is reserved today. Do you have an invitation card?” A waiter came up to Roland after he parked his car.

Roland produced the card Garcia had given him from his pocket and brandished it triumphantly.

“Welcome to Crown Hotel. The meeting room is on the top floor. A customer representative will soon receive you.” The waiter then summoned a smile and said, “I’ll take care of your vehicle.”

Roland did not care what the waiter actually thought of him, but he had to admit that this was really great service.

He led the witches into the splendid hotel hall. To Roland’s surprise, they didn’t seem interested in this magnificent building. Perhaps, they had seen architecture like this illuminated by Stones of Lighting many times back in the Taquila age. The chandelier dangling from the ceiling, for instance, was probably nothing special to the Three Chiefs.

Roland found it a little amusing to notice that these three witches were more awestruck by some cakes than the spectacular hotel interior. Their extremely beautiful appearances, however, soon attracted a lot of people. It seemed that no matter what world he was living in, witches were always going to be the focus of attention.

The customer representative went through a series of security check. He first scanned Roland’s invitation card and then reported to someone over his walkie-talkie. Finally, he returned the card to Roland and said, “Mr. Roland, sorry for the wait. May I know who these three ladies are…”

“Cousins,” Roand said while shrugging. “Garcia told me that family members are allowed here.”

“I see. Please come this way.”

The customer service representative guided them to an elevator, pushed the button to the top floor, and then bowed courteously outside the elevator. “I wish you a good evening.”

The wall around them soon sank rapidly. A sinking sun diffused its perpetual splendor into the elevator. A dense group of high-rise buildings slid into their sights and formed a forest of walls in the far distance.

The witches finally uttered exclamations of surprise.