Rothgar Valemont had originally been full of confidence regarding the wager, but the failure of his first attempt left him wondering if the Human Realm had somehow changed in his absence.

Returning to Wilson Manor, the residence of the Bluestone City Lord, Rothgar utilized Patrick Wilson's memories to move through the estate without raising any suspicion. As he passed through the garden, a blonde maid whom Patrick remembered named Abigail was watering the flowers. Upon seeing him, the tall maid immediately set down her watering can and curtsied deeply.

"Good day, Lord Patrick!"

Rothgar paused. Accessing Patrick's memories, he wore a charming smile and asked in a magnetic voice, "Abigail, would you be willing to..."

Hearing the handsome young master call her name with such intimacy, Abigail looked as though she might faint from excitement. She cupped her face in her hands and squealed, "I am! I am willing! Lord Patrick, you can do anything you want with me!"

The smile vanished from Rothgar's face instantly. He took a small step back in disgust, as if afraid of being contaminated. Yet, at the same time, he felt a sense of satisfaction—things were back on track. This was the Human Realm he remembered. This was the disgusting, fawning behavior a human woman should exhibit.

So, he wondered, what was the deal with that girl who threw herself in front of my carriage?

When Anna Virelle arrived home and saw the dilapidated bungalow made of a mixture of stone and wood, she couldn't help but sigh. They were truly impoverished.

Hearing movement at the door, a gentle female voice called out from the inner room, "Who is it?"

"Mom, it's me, Anna," she quickly replied.

Enduring the pain in her knee, Anna walked slowly to hide her injury. The woman who had answered emerged; her name was Grace Virelle. Though only in her early thirties, she was already a mother of six—two of whom had died in infancy. The hardships of life had left her skin rough and her expression perpetually exhausted, with a lingering weariness in her sky-blue eyes—the same color as Anna's.

However, upon seeing her eldest daughter, Grace's eyes softened with tenderness. "Anna, did you find work?" she asked with concern.

Anna shook her head. "Either they aren't looking for people, or they think I'm too weak and won't take me." Anna had been out for two days searching for employment without success.

"Don't worry," Grace comforted her. "Your father and I both have jobs. We aren't short on money for the time being."

Anna nodded, keeping her anxiety to herself. She certainly wouldn't tell her mother about the terrifying encounter she had just survived. As Grace returned to her handiwork—one of the family's steady sources of income—Anna went to her room.

Calling it a "room" was being generous. The bungalow had only two small bedrooms: her parents occupied one, while Anna shared the other with her siblings. Inside, seven-year-old Adeline was playing with three-year-old Eddie. Seeing Anna, Adeline ran over to hug her.

"Adeline, have you been a good girl today?" Anna asked, patting her head.

"Adeline is good every day! And little Eddie was good today too!" the girl chirped.

"That's wonderful. Could you go and fetch a jar of clean water for me?" Anna asked. Adeline didn't ask why and immediately ran out.

Anna sat on the bed as little Eddie leaned against the frame, his tiny hands gripping her skirt as he cooed her name. Anna tapped his nose with a smile, feeling the pain in her knee dull slightly at his giggles.

In this world, the children of the poor grew up fast. Adeline was still small and usually looked after Eddie, while ten-year-old James already helped out at the tavern where their father, Evan, worked. For a day's work, James earned three or four copper coins and a free meal, which was considered quite good.

Before Anna's reincarnation, her original host had worked odd jobs with Grace, earning about a dozen copper coins a day. Evan, working as a bartender, could earn five or six silver coins a month including tips. However, with the family's food costing nearly twenty coppers a day, plus the mandatory head tax for the Lord and other expenses, they could only save one or two silver coins a month at most. In such a state, no one dared to fall ill; a doctor's potion cost silver.

The currency in this world consisted of gold, silver, and copper, with a conversion rate of one hundred to one. In her memories, Anna had never even touched a gold coin. Although Grace told her not to worry, Anna knew their family had zero risk tolerance. The slightest misfortune could plunge them into the abyss.

This was why Anna had been out every day trying to find work. She needed to save money and learn more about this world. While she had the original host's memories, the girl's social circle had been narrow, and her knowledge was limited by her class.

Anna had considered learning magic, but the original host only knew of it through "legends." For now, earning money was the only practical path forward.

Adeline returned with the water. As Anna lifted her skirt to clean the wound, Adeline gasped, covering her face. "Anna, what happened!"

"Shh, not so loud. If Mom hears, she'll worry," Anna whispered. She washed the wound in silence, gritting her teeth against the sting to keep up appearances as the eldest sister. Little Eddie crawled over and gently blew on her knee. "No more pain, no more pain!" he mumbled. Strangely, the pain did seem to vanish.

With no work and no entertainment for commoners, Anna began cleaning the house once her knee felt better. As she swept dust toward the door, she saw a youth lingering nearby. When their eyes met, the boy looked embarrassed and looked away, but quickly turned back and whispered, "Anna."

This was Timothy Hargrove, the son of the local baker, Thomas Hargrove. Since they owned a bakery, Timothy's family was much better off than Anna's. Anna was the most beautiful unwed girl in the area, and Timothy often brought her gifts to show his affection.

Anna walked over, the sweet scent of wheat bread making her mouth water. She was sick of the coarse rye bread that scratched her throat every day. Timothy handed her a palm-sized loaf of wheat bread, fluffy and inviting.

"Anna, for you!" he said, his ears turning red.

Anna could see the sincere, youthful affection in his eyes, but she had no interest in romance; she only cared about survival and money. She suppressed her hunger and said, "Did you sneak this out behind your father's back? Take it back, or he'll scold you."

Unlike the butcher who beat his family, the baker Thomas was merely loud and stern with his son. Timothy's green eyes dimmed at her rejection. He flinched at the mention of his father but suddenly shoved the bread into Anna's hands and bolted.

"Timothy!" Anna called out, but he was gone. She sighed. A small loaf like this cost seven or eight copper coins—enough to buy three or four rye loaves and feed her entire family for a meal. To her, this was an unthinkable luxury.