"Hey, perfect timing, I just wanted to talk to you about something!" Before he could even speak, Garcia's voice came through the phone.

"Uh... what is it?"

"It's not convenient to talk about it on the phone, come to my room. You just woke up anyway, right?"

Roland could feel the disdain emanating from the other end of the line, as if sleeping in was a heinous crime for a martial artist.

"Okay... fine," he thought for a moment, deciding to first feel out Garcia's mood in 0827. If she was in a bad mood, he could always choose to talk another day.

Hanging up, Roland told the three witches to wait in the living room for a moment, then went to the door of 0827 alone.

"The door's open, come in." Garcia had obviously heard his footsteps.

Roland pushed open the door and walked into the living room, seeing her wearing a loose summer dress, holding two glasses in front of the refrigerator. Wet gray hair fell over her shoulders, tiny beads of sweat still clinging to her nose, and with a pair of cartoon flip-flops on her feet, she looked less like a serious martial artist and more like an ordinary college student enjoying summer vacation. "Want something to drink? Plain water, tea, cola... all iced."

That's right, Garcia's actual age isn't that different from mine, only two or three years at most, he thought. If he hadn't been set by the dream world as a dropout, working in a bar and losing his job, a down-and-out landlord of a tenement building, he should still be in school now.

"Cola," Roland replied casually. "Did you just finish your morning workout?"

"Did you think everyone was as lazy as you?"

He paused slightly. Even though she was so unguarded, she still spoke like she did when they first met, as if she wasn't comfortable without throwing in a sarcastic remark or two. It's a miracle she's managed to survive this long.

But after knowing her for so long, Roland could at least be sure of one thing: her mood wasn't bad at the moment... even quite good.

Could it be related to what she wanted to talk about?

"Here, iced green tea." Garcia placed the drink in front of him.

"I thought I said cola..." Roland raised his eyebrows.

"You didn't do your morning workout, drink less sugary drinks." She said with a straight face, as if suppressing a smile. "The evolution of Natural Power has nothing to do with body shape. Even people who look weak can unleash powerful power. This also means that it can't help you reshape your body. If you want to go on stage for martial arts competitions in the future, you should pay attention to it. Martial artists with well-proportioned bodies are always more popular than fat ones."

If that's the case, why did you list that option? Roland rolled his eyes and asked bluntly, "So? You called me here not just to talk about my figure, right? And I've said it before, I have no interest in star martial artists or martial arts tournaments. Eliminating Evil and protecting the world only needs dedication, not fame. Let me be an unsung guardian."

If he really became famous, he would be recognized wherever he went. How would he go around robbing and plundering?

"Unbelievable..." Garcia's voice suddenly lowered a lot. She looked at Roland and said slowly, "I thought these were the last words I would ever hear from you—of course, Master taught me not to look at what a person says, but at what they do. If I didn't know what you've done, I'd probably just take these words as shameless boasting, but... but it's true."

Roland naturally understood what she was talking about.

Ever since he tasted the sweetness of robbing Fallen Evils, he had joined forces with the Taqila witches to clean up the low-level Fallen Evils hidden in the city.

During the day, Falti and others would search and locate them, and at night he and the combat witches would take care of the opponents. In addition to harvesting mutated Natural Power, they could often get a lot of extra income. In order to avoid being noticed, he would only take some cash or items that could not be identified, and at the same time, he would occasionally hand over some Natural Power to the Martial Artist Association.

After all, the association was also monitoring the movements of the Fallen Evils. If they found a large number of Fallen Evils dying inexplicably and the Natural Power was nowhere to be found, it would probably cause a stir, which would cause him trouble. Therefore, it would be safer to actively give up a part of the obvious targets that had already been exposed.

In addition, he was the most active in accepting the wanted orders and erosion commissions issued by the association. According to Garcia, he was the newcomer who had fought the most Fallen Evils, even more than many formal members. And intelligence showed that the Fallen Evil side had already realized the appearance of a powerful enemy and was trying to find out his identity and whereabouts.

In other words, he had thrown a stone that was enough to stir up ripples in the upper echelons of Prism City and the Fallen Evil community, but he was completely unknown to ordinary martial artists and the public. If Garcia wasn't the Pathfinder of the area, and Roland needed to contact her every time he wanted to hand over Natural Power, she wouldn't have known what he had done.

"Ahem... it's just my duty," Roland cleared his throat. "Isn't this the responsibility of a martial artist?"

"That's right," Garcia smiled rarely. "This is the responsibility of a martial artist." She took out a piece of paper from under the coffee table and handed it to him. "Congratulations, you have become a formal member of the Martial Artist Association. This is the new contract that was sent today. Just sign your name and it will take effect."

"I remember that solving an Erosion Event alone can make you a formal member. As a result, I have completed at least several tasks by now. The administrative efficiency of Prism City is really low enough." Roland curled his lips and signed his name at the end of the contract.

"Because... the Martial Artist Association is an international organization."

"So, I'm the same as you now?"

"No," Garcia shook her head and pushed another small notebook over. "To be precise, it's above me."

Roland curiously opened the small notebook and couldn't help but be slightly stunned. "This is—"

"Hunting License." She put away her smile and said word by word, "It is only awarded to those who have outstanding talent in combat and are determined to fight against Evil. There are no more than ten martial artists in this city who possess it, and there are only about a hundred licenses issued in Prism City. As for its uses and precautions, they are all written at the end of the notebook—remember, it is both the association's trust in you and represents greater responsibility. I hope you can stick to this path until mankind achieves final victory."

So... is this what she's happy about?

Being surpassed by the newcomer she recruited, ordinary people might feel lost, jealous, or resentful... but Garcia's eyes didn't show any of these negative emotions at all—she was genuinely happy, as if she had won the honor herself.

This made Roland feel vaguely worried.

Garcia's perception of him could be said to be at its highest point now, but the higher it was, the greater the pressure of this expectation. He knew that she was cold on the surface but had a strong sense of justice in her heart, otherwise she wouldn't have helped the tenement residents fight against the Three-Leaf Group's forced demolition. At the thought of the possible misunderstandings that might arise later, he felt a headache.

"By the way, what did you call me for earlier?" Garcia took a sip of tea comfortably. "I've said everything I wanted to say. You didn't call me because you foresaw these things, right?"

"Um... there are indeed some things," Roland replied with a stiff head. "Can you come to my room?"

Garcia glanced at him suspiciously. "It's not a problem, but can't you say it here?"

"You'll know when you come."

"Okay."

Roland took a deep breath and led her back to 0825.

Walking into the living room, the three witches immediately cast their bright eyes on him.

At the same time, he felt an indescribable chill coming from behind—

"You... you really took this step!" Garcia stood at the door in a daze. "Oh my god... they're still children, I... I'm going to call the police!"