This time Joji and his party of six took the main road, the broad artery that linked the feudal ladder of territories within the Kingdom of Vicario.
The traffic was heavier and the faces were blander, which was the point.
A man hid best among people who did not want to look closely.
Along the way, Joji began gulping down powdered ores and metal like he was scooping whey protein.
At first he tried to be civilized about it. He mixed the powder into a tall glass and stirred until it looked smooth enough to lie.
It was a mistake. Powdered steel was not a fad on Earth, and it was not any kinder on Primeria.
The taste hit his tongue like chewing a coin. Metallic and wrong, like his mouth had become a forge.
He nearly spat it out, eyes watering. Still, he swallowed and forced the next mouthful down because he did not know how much it would take for the armor to evolve, and guessing wrong could waste all his effort.
