Chapter 118: Mysterious Heaven Palace

The sun had just begun to rise over the sprawling city of the capital, casting a warm, golden hue across the rooftops. The streets were already bustling with activity as merchants set up their stalls, and workers hurried to their posts.

Amidst this morning rush, Ruchir stood in front of the grand gates of the Mysterious Heaven Palace, one of the four main security departments in the capital, known for its strict selection process and elite reputation.

The Mysterious Heaven Palace, with its towering walls and intricately designed architecture, loomed over the surroundings, exuding an air of authority.

The palace was under the direct command of the ministries, serving as a crucial pillar in maintaining the security and order of the capital. Today, Ruchir was there for the selection process, hoping to earn a spot within its ranks.

As he lined up in the queue, Ruchir couldn't help but notice the diversity of people around him. There were commoners, all with the same hopeful glint in their eyes, likely dreaming of changing their fate by securing a position in the palace. The atmosphere was tense with anticipation, and a heavy silence hung over the crowd, broken only by the occasional cough or shuffle of feet.

Ruchir scanned the faces around him, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Just as he was about to lose himself in thought, the silence was shattered by a loud, heated argument from somewhere near the front of the line. Heads turned, and murmurs spread through the crowd as everyone strained to see what was happening.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Ruchir craned his neck to get a better view. To his surprise, he saw two people in the middle of a rather childish quarrel. One of them was a young man of average appearance, with green hair, round spectacles, and a medium build. The other, to Ruchir's astonishment, was none other than Garret.

Ruchir blinked in disbelief. *Of course, it's Garret,* he thought with a sigh. He leaned over to the person next to him in the queue, a weary-looking man who seemed less than thrilled by the disturbance. "What's going on up there? Why are they fighting?"

The man rolled his eyes dramatically and let out a long-suffering sigh. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you, but it's apparently over… cabbages."

Ruchir stared at him, unsure if he had heard correctly. "Cabbages?"

"Yeah, cabbages," the man replied, shaking his head in exasperation. "The green-haired fellow claims that Garret insulted his cabbages. Said something about them being 'underdeveloped' and 'lacking in character.' Now they're both arguing about whose cabbages are superior."

Ruchir blinked, completely dumbfounded. "Cabbages… as in the vegetable?"

"Yes," the man confirmed, as though this were the most normal thing in the world. "The vegetable. They've been at it for a while now. You'd think they were discussing some ancient martial arts technique instead of a garden vegetable."

Deciding that he had to intervene before things got even more ridiculous, Ruchir made his way through the crowd, edging closer to the front where the argument was taking place. As he approached, he could hear the two of them going at it, their voices growing louder and more animated with each passing second.

"—I'll have you know," Garret was saying, his voice dripping with indignation, "that my cabbages are award-winning! They're practically legendary! Just ask anyone in my village!"

The green-haired young man scoffed, adjusting his round spectacles with a huff. "Legendary? Please! My cabbages are the epitome of perfection. Each leaf is carefully cultivated to ensure maximum crispiness and flavor. Yours look like they were grown in a ditch!"

Garret gasped, clutching his chest as if he had been mortally wounded. "How dare you! My cabbages are masterpieces! They've got soul, passion, and a depth of flavor that your soulless, over-watered leaves could never match!"

Ruchir stepped between them, raising his hands in an attempt to calm the situation. "Alright, alright, let's all just take a breath. We're here for the Mysterious Heaven Palace selection, not a cabbage contest."

Garret immediately turned to Ruchir, his eyes wide with a mixture of relief and determination. "Ruchir! Thank goodness you're here! You have to back me up. This guy has no idea what he's talking about! He's slandering my cabbages!"

Ruchir resisted the urge to facepalm. "Garret, this isn't the time or place to be arguing about vegetables. We should be focused on the selection process."

But the green-haired young man wasn't about to back down. He pointed an accusatory finger at Garret, his expression one of righteous fury. "He started it! He insulted my cabbages first! I won't stand for it!"

Before Ruchir could respond, Garret jumped in, his indignation flaring up again. "I only said the truth! Your cabbages lack texture! They're flat and lifeless!"

"They're not flat! They're meticulously crafted!" the green-haired man shot back.

Ruchir sighed deeply, realizing that this was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated. He turned to the green-haired man, trying to adopt a diplomatic tone.

"Look, I'm sure your cabbages are very… well-crafted. And Garret, I'm sure yours are, too. But can't we all just agree that both of you have your own unique cabbage-growing techniques? There's no need to fight over this."

The green-haired man narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Are you trying to take his side?"

"No, I'm not taking any sides," Ruchir replied quickly. "I'm just saying that this argument is pointless. We're all here for a much bigger purpose."

Garret folded his arms, clearly not satisfied. "Well, I'm not going to let someone insult my cabbages and get away with it. He needs to apologize!"

"Apologize?" the green-haired man scoffed. "Me? Apologize? Never! You should be the one apologizing for slandering my superior produce!"

Ruchir felt his patience slipping away as the two of them started hurling insults at each other again, this time with even more fervor. It was as if they had completely forgotten where they were and what they were supposed to be doing.

Realizing that reasoning with them was getting him nowhere, Ruchir decided to change tactics. He took a deep breath and then spoke in a calm, authoritative voice.

"Listen, both of you. If you don't stop this nonsense right now, you're going to get kicked out of the selection process. Is that what you want?"

Both Garret and the green-haired man paused, their expressions faltering as they considered the consequences of their actions. It seemed that the threat of missing out on the selection process was finally enough to break through their stubbornness.

Garret sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "I guess you're right, Ruchir. This is kind of silly, isn't it?"

The green-haired man hesitated, but eventually nodded in agreement. "Yeah… we probably shouldn't be arguing about cabbages here. It's just that… I take my cabbages very seriously."

"I can see that," Ruchir said with a small smile, relieved that they were finally starting to see reason.

"But maybe you two could discuss your cabbage-growing techniques later, after the selection process?"

Garret looked at the green-haired man and then back at Ruchir. "Alright, I'll let it go… for now. But I'm not admitting that his cabbages are better!"

The green-haired man straightened his spectacles, giving Garret a challenging look. "And I'm not admitting that yours are, either!"

Ruchir rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but chuckle at their stubbornness. "Fair enough. Just keep it civil from now on, alright?"

With that, the argument was finally settled, and the tension in the crowd began to dissipate.

The other hopefuls in the queue resumed their quiet conversations, though a few of them still cast amused glances at Garret and the green-haired man, clearly entertained by the bizarre altercation.

As they waited for the selection process to begin, Garret leaned over to Ruchir and whispered, "Thanks for stepping in, man. I didn't realize how out of hand that was getting."

Ruchir gave him a knowing look. "Just try to stay focused, Garret. This is a big opportunity for all of us."

"I know, I know," Garret replied with a grin.

Just then a sharp whistle echoed through the air, the entire crowd fell silent, snapping to attention.

Even Garret and the green-haired man, who had been quarreling just moments before, quickly straightened up, their previous squabble forgotten.

A figure approached, cutting through the crowd like a blade.

He was a man of formidable presence, his muscular build accentuated by the way he carried himself with unyielding authority.

His skin was a deep, dark tone, a testament to years spent under the harsh sun and in the unforgiving wilderness.

His face was set in a stern, serious expression, with eyes that seemed to pierce through anyone who dared meet them.

What truly stood out about this man was the aura he exuded—an aura tinged with the scent of blood and death. It was the unmistakable air of someone who had faced demons and emerged victorious, countless times.

The air around him seemed to thrum with a barely contained menace, a silent warning to those who might think of crossing him.

He was clad in a black uniform, its fabric thick and durable, yet finely tailored to his powerful frame.

Intricate golden patterns adorned the edges of his attire, swirling and twisting in designs that spoke of both elegance and danger.

These golden markings were not mere decorations; they signified his rank, marking him as a person of high stature within the Mysterious Heaven Palace.

As he walked, the crowd parted before him instinctively, as if guided by some unseen force.

There was no need for words or commands—the man's mere presence commanded respect and obedience.

This was someone who had earned his place through strength, skill, and an unwavering resolve, a figure that left an indelible impression on all who saw him.