I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

Ivan followed behind Kap, watching Eldin walk into the VIP waiting room.

Just as he was about to step over the gilded threshold, Garp gently pulled his arm.

"Kid."

There was no malice in Garp's tone, only the advice of someone with more experience to a younger person.

"If you go in dressed like that, you'll be thrown into a mental hospital."

Evan looked down at his wool jacket, which was missing a button, then glanced up at the upper-class crowd in the waiting room, consisting of people in three-piece suits and fur-trimmed coats.

He sighed silently to himself.

"Sigh! I, Yi Aotian, had everything prepared, but I'm stuck at the threshold of showing off and getting slapped in the face because of my clothes..."

"I have disgraced the time travelers and failed my fellow villagers."

Karp, along with two other bodyguards, bypassed the waiting room and walked straight to the VIP platform on the marble floor.

The walls on both sides of the corridor are made of dark walnut wood, inlaid with brass decorative strips, and every few meters there is a lamp with a milky white glass shade hanging on it.

The marble floor was polished to a spotless shine, reflecting the silhouette of every passerby.

Garp, who was walking at the front, spoke as he went.

"Arkham. It's good to be capable, but you need to have vision and self-awareness."

His tone was calm, not like he was scolding someone, but more like he was imparting some kind of philosophy of survival.

"Often, class differences cannot be bridged by skill alone."

Ivan followed behind him, carrying a sixty-pound suitcase with ease in both hands, his steps as light as if he were only carrying two bottles of soda.

"This time, the young lady and several other companions have booked an entire carriage. That's their main area of ​​activity."

"My job is to ensure the safety of the entire carriage and keep those troublemakers out."

Ivan asked, "Who are the busybodies?"

Garp's eyebrows twitched.

"A lurking robber. An admired young nobleman. And some scheming individuals deliberately looking for trouble."

He paused, a rare hint of disgust in his voice.

"Especially those nouveau riche with no real foundation. And those guys who specialize in shady businesses."

"These people can be very difficult to deal with. You need to be mentally prepared."

Ivan asked, "What if we offend them...?"

Garp nodded.

"I might get beaten up by their bodyguards."

He turned and glanced at Evan.

The young man carried two 60-pound leather suitcases in his hands, walking briskly up the marble steps, with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What? Want to quit?"

Ivan looked up, his eyes filled with utmost seriousness.

"You'll have to pay more."

He looked directly at Karp.

"When Miss Hearst invited me, she didn't mention this when she said it was three dollars a day."

The two young bodyguards following behind Karp couldn't help but laugh when they heard this.

The blond youth on the left had a hint of sarcasm in his laughter.

"Kid, aren't you afraid you'll have the money but not the life to spend it?"

Ivan turned his head, his gaze indifferent.

"Being beaten to death is only a matter of minutes."

"If you go hungry for several days, that would be truly agonizing."

The blond youth opened his mouth slightly, but ultimately said nothing.

Garp nodded.

"Okay. I'll give you an extra dollar every day."

As he spoke, the group finally walked onto the VIP platform.

The gleaming black locomotive was already parked in front of the platform.

Steam continuously spewed out from the piston gaps at the bottom of the engine, condensing into large plumes of white mist in the cold air of mid-to-late November.

The porters are carrying the VIPs' large luggage to their designated carriages in advance, following the order of the numbered tags.

Each trunk had a small brass tag attached to its handle, engraved with the family crest.

The porters' work jackets were clean and tidy, completely free of the coal dust and sweat smell typical of Guding Street.

The loudspeaker crackled overhead, and a deep male voice was repeating the pre-departure instructions in clear English.

The air was filled with the smell of engine oil, the aroma of hot coffee, and the whiff of cigars wafting from one of the carriages.

Ivan followed Karp into a dark brown, custom-made carriage.

Two attendants in dark green uniforms stood at the carriage door, their posture upright and their features regular.

Upon seeing Garp, they immediately bowed and made way for him.

As he crossed the threshold, a space that completely overturned his understanding appeared on his left.

There are no seats in the traditional sense inside this carriage.

Upon entering, the first thing you see is a complete beverage bar.

The deep red mahogany tabletop is backed by a row of glass bottles.

Bourbon whisky, Scotch whisky, champagne, Bordeaux wine, and various liqueurs.

The middle section features a copper coffee machine and tea set area.

Each cup was placed upside down on a white linen cloth.

Behind the bar stood a bartender wearing a white shirt and black vest.

He nodded slightly in greeting when he saw Garp enter.

As you walk further in, there is a wide aisle on your right, right next to the large glass window on one side of the carriage.

To the left is a row of private rooms enclosed by exquisite wooden doors.

Each door has a small bronze plaque with a different room number engraved on it.

Garp, who was walking ahead, spoke with a hint of barely perceptible pride.

"This carriage was a custom-made travel carriage for the Hearst family."

"Named after the Hearst family name."

"The family paid for the full cost of the carriage renovation, and it is not open to the public on ordinary days."

"The young ladies of the Darcy, Hunter, and Connet families are all honored to ride in this carriage with our young lady."

Ivan opened his mouth.

My instinct was to say "Awesome!"

The next second he swallowed it back and replaced those two words with another sentence.

"Should we check this beforehand?"

Garp glanced at him, a hint of approval in his eyes.

He led Ivan to open the door to the first private room.

This is a luggage storage room.

On both sides of the wall are custom-made wooden luggage racks, on which several suitcases have already been placed according to their numbers.

The luggage rack's fasteners are made of brass, and each one is so exquisite that it can be taken out and displayed as a work of art.

Ivan carefully carried the two suitcases onto the luggage rack.

Karp walked to a large leather trunk in the corner, bent down, unfastened the buckle, and took out three bundles of clothes tightly wrapped in blankets.

Each bag contained a neatly arranged outfit.

A dark black men's three-piece suit.

A snow-white pure cotton stand-up collar shirt.

A pair of shiny black pointed leather shoes.

A black silk bow tie.

Karp draped the outfit neatly over Ivan's arm.

"This is your work uniform."

"The lady has roughly estimated your size and recommends purchasing from three sizes: small, medium, and large."

There's bound to be one that suits you.

"Huh? For me? Three sets!?"

This outfit isn't cheap; Ivan saw similar styles on the main streets when he went out!

This set is worth at least $40!

Three sets, large, medium, and small, that's $120!

$120—that's my entire year's tuition!

Just for three days, he spent it all on being a temporary, poor student bodyguard!?

At that moment, Ivan was truly impressed by the other party's generosity.

As Garp watched the poor boy witness the grandeur of a powerful family for the first time, a hint of smugness subtly surfaced on his face.

"This is the foundation of a great noble family. Do you understand?"

He then closed the door to the luggage compartment, leaving Evan alone inside to change his clothes.

Ivan held the clothes in his hands and lowered his head to smell them.

The fabric has a faint scent of cedarwood.

This is the distinctive wardrobe scent of a high-end tailor shop, a blend of new linen, linseed oil, and a botanical incense.

He sighed softly to himself.

"I never imagined that the best clothes I would ever wear in my life would be my work uniform."

He took off his old, secondhand clothes one by one.

Fold these things neatly and set them aside, then start trying on the new clothes.

I quickly determined that the largest size would be more suitable for me.

The feeling of the pure cotton white shirt against his skin was something he had never experienced in the past eighteen years.

It doesn't have that indescribable musty smell found in secondhand fabrics, nor the subtle body odor left by some unknown previous owner.

It has only the faint, clean scent of detergent unique to pure cotton.

The shirt clung softly and snugly to the skin, with every seam precisely placed where it should be.

The three-piece suit jacket was a little big, but it still fit well.

The trousers had a straight crease and no unnecessary wrinkles.

The entire outfit accentuated his body lines perfectly.

The country bumpkin in tattered clothes just now instantly transformed into a different person in the mirror.

The shoulders, which originally looked thin and cramped, were transformed into long and powerful lines by the tailoring of the suit.

The person's figure is well-proportioned, fit, and upright.

Ivan stood in front of the dressing mirror for three seconds.

Then he silently recited a sentence in his mind.

"Clothes make the man, and a saddle makes the horse. First look at his appearance, then at what he wears."

"I never knew I could be this handsome."

Finally, I took off my old linen socks with holes in the heels, put on soft, pure cotton black socks, and finally stepped into the leather shoes that were a decent size.

The soles are thick and flat, without the clattering sound of metal nails driven into the heels and hitting the ground when walking.

Each step he took was soft and steady, giving him an indescribable sense of security.

Looking at the two extra pieces of clothing beside him, Evan suddenly felt that something was not right.

"Is Hearst being a little too concerned about me?"

"Why is she so nice to me? Is she out of her mind?"

"Could she be hiding something?"