BUILDING MY OWN EMPIRE - My Journey from Nothing to Overwhelming Power Chapter 109 - 108 – Sunrise City (2)

The market was enormous—crowded beyond belief.

I had never seen a market of such size in my life. Perhaps only on television screens... but in reality? Never.

I began walking between the stalls.

Many stalls sold foods I did not recognize at all.

Strange ingredients—utterly unfamiliar to .

I smiled.

Not the smile of soone discovering new varieties of food—

But the thrill of notifications trembling through .

My Prophet traits had begun harvesting accumulation from every new ingredient they encountered.

Since entering the market, more than twenty kinds of fruits and vegetables I had never seen before had already been continuously harvested for accumulation.

After several minutes, I found myself actively searching for new varieties, just as I used to in my old life—

When I played gas like Elden Ring.

Most of my ti there had been spent searching for resources.

Loot, then loot, then more loot...

Until the inventory was overflowing.

What made this different now—and far more exciting—

Was that there was no inventory limit.

And with Boundary Breaking, I could harvest accumulation endlessly.

Suddenly—

I stopped in front of one stall.

"Eggs and at," I murmured.

The sll was genuinely delicious.

The cook preparing it had the face of a dog.

In fact... he was a dog—

Only standing upright on two legs.

For a mont I hesitated before approaching.

But the dog wore gloves and an apron.

A real chef—clean and professional.

"One plate, please," I said.

"At once. Owooo," replied the dog.

He began slicing strips of at, placing them over the fire.

He flipped them slowly... then rapidly.

His movents were truly professional.

When their color began changing,

He cracked two eggs over the at—

Then stirred them together.

After a while—

"Here you are. Owooo," he said.

I looked right and left.

There was only a wooden spoon.

No bread?

"Don’t you have bread?" I asked.

"You want bread with softened at... owooo?" the dog asked, puzzled.

Apparently I had said sothing strange in front of him.

Another female dog nearby turned to look.

A human custor seated beside was eating too.

"Is there a problem serving bread with it?" I asked.

"No... but softened at is not usually eaten with bread. Owooo."

"Not where I co from," I said.

The dog smiled, baring his fangs.

Then he moved toward a nearby stall selling bread—

Or rather, sothing like round thick buns,

Rough-textured on the outside.

He returned and handed two pieces.

This was truly strange.

I still couldn’t believe how casually I was speaking with a dog—

A dog chef, no less—

Seriously discussing whether eggs and at should be eaten with bread.

And he ended every sentence with barking sounds.

And they called this dish "softened at"?

Did they consider eggs the softening ingredient?

I placed so egg and at inside one piece of bread—

Then ate it.

The taste was genuinely wonderful.

Ah...

If only there were tea with this.

The dog stared at in amazent.

So did the human beside .

His eyes sought either an explanation—

Or an invitation to taste.

I raised one of the buns toward him.

"Here," I said. "Try it yourself. You’ll thank ."

The man took the bread.

Then imitated exactly what I had done.

"Ahhh!" he cried softly.

I smiled.

I had been certain of his reaction.

What fool had never tried eating it this way?

I looked to the side.

There was a fruit stall nearby.

I smiled.

Most of the fruits I recognized from Earth.

Others were strange.

I couldn’t simply follow my appetite and experint.

I didn’t know how my body would react to unfamiliar kinds.

I had no desire to suffer stomach pain while gathering information.

But—

I stood and walked toward the stall.

"Give five," I said, pointing at one of the red fruits.

He placed them into a bag and handed them over.

Then I moved toward the bread stall—

The sa stall where the dog had bought the buns for .

There, I watched the baker work.

There was a dium-sized stone oven.

The baker took a lump of dough,

Flattened it into a large circle,

Placed it on a wooden board,

Then pushed it into the oven.

After several minutes,

He removed it as a hot, fragrant bun.

"May I ask sothing of you, sir?" I said.

The baker looked at ,

Then instructed another worker to continue.

He approached and replied,

"Of course, sir. At your service."

"Thank you. Could you make several pieces in a shape I choose?"

"Certainly. What shape would you like?"

I pointed to one of the prepared dough pieces.

"Could you give one? I’ll show you."

"Of course."

I took the dough—

Then stretched and flattened it

Until it beca smooth and thin,

Like pizza dough ready for toppings.

The baker stared at .

"You want this shape, sir?"

I smiled.

"Yes. But be careful not to leave it in too long.

It may burn, since the shape has changed."

The baker nodded.

Then began making several loaves in my requested style.

His hands were quick and skillful.

The circles he ford were almost perfectly round.

My first attempt, by contrast,

Looked like a ball that had survived multiple explosions.

After a while,

The first loaf ca out—

Undercooked.

The next one—

Burned.

After four attempts,

The fifth was perfect.

It ca out as real bread—

True Iraqi bread.

Round, crisp, magnificent.

I held it in my hand.

The heat itself carried flavor.

I took one bite.

Closed my eyes.

A tear fell.

That taste—

Brought back to Iraq.

My holand.

My country.

I wiped away the tear,

Then turned toward the baker.

His eyes—and those of his workers—were shining.

None of them understood what had happened.

"I’d like ten more, please.

And I’ll pay for what was wasted."

Soon after,

I took my ten loaves—

And returned

To the at-and-eggs stall.

The dog stared at what I held in my hands as I approached.

"Could you do sothing for ?" I asked.

"Of course, sir. Owooo."

"I want to cook.

Myself."

After several attempts,

My final bribe of a few thousand finally convinced the dog to let .

I took the knife.

Then cut several pieces of at—

Small strips, not too wide.

I fried them until browned.

Removed them and set them aside.

Then I took the red fruit—

Cut it into many small pieces.

And placed them aside.

"I forgot onions..." I muttered.

I looked right and left.

No one seed to sell any.

I decided to continue without them.

I poured so oil over the fire.

When it beca hot,

I added half the fruit.

The dog’s eyes followed every movent carefully.

After stirring a bit,

I added half the at over the fruit.

Then lowered the fla beneath the pot.

Next I placed another pan,

Heated oil in it,

Added fruit,

Then so salt.

After a while,

I cracked two eggs over the fruit and stirred.

It didn’t take long before I turned off the fire.

Then returned to the first pot—

Waited a little,

Added salt there too,

Waited again,

Then extinguished that fla as well.

I placed each dish into separate bowls.

"I’m finished. Thank you," I said.

Then carried my plates back to my seat.

I pulled out the Iraqi bread.

And smiled.

"Breakfast ti," I whispered.

"Sir. Owooo."

The dog stood over my head.

"Please... what exactly did you prepare?

Why did you use cotton fruit? Owooo."

"Cotton fruit?" I repeated inwardly.

Hahahaha...

So they truly didn’t know.

Cotton fruit, then.

That’s what they called it.

On Earth—

We call it tomato.

So consider it a fruit there too.

But everyone uses it as a vegetable.

Could it be—

They had never tried tomato with eggs before?

Or tomato with at?

Hahaha...

"Taste it yourself," I said.

I handed bread to him and the female dog beside him.

"Let show you how it’s eaten."

Then—

I took a small piece of bread with three fingers,

Placed it over so at and tomato,

Closed it—

And ate it.

Then did the sa with the second dish.

"There’s another way too," I said.

"If you want richer flavor."

I repeated the sa thod,

But instead of eating imdiately,

I dipped it deeper into the tomato sauce spreading across the plate.

The two dogs tried it.

Their mouths fell open in shock.

"I-it’s amazing... the taste is amazing. Owooo!" said the dog.

After a while I finished my al.

By the ti I left,

The two dogs were already making both dishes themselves.

I laughed—

Then continued onward.

While eating,

The dogs had already directed toward the guild.

When I left the market,

My stomach was full,

And my heart completely at ease.

Then—

I arrived.

The area before was marked by a giant sign:

(The fighter protects himself. The coward is protected by the fighter.)

The phrase stretched across a sign over ten ters long.

I didn’t truly understand what it ant.

But it seed to urge everyone toward becoming fighters.

One step after another—

I entered the combat district.

The first thing before my eyes

Was a shop with a wooden front.

A sign above it read:

(Sword of Fate Shop)

"Here we are," I whispered.

Then entered.

The mont I stepped inside,

Two sharp eyes lifted toward .

The man behind the counter said nothing.

He remained standing,

Wearing an apron,

Holding a polishing cloth,

Leaning forward over a long sword he was cleaning.

His eyes were green—

The sa color as the twisted horns rising above his head.

I stepped farther in,

Closing the door behind .

"May I look at what you sell?" I asked.

I did not move further before receiving an answer.

He tilted his chin sideways—

A gesture that seed to an: Go ahead.

Or perhaps: Get out.

Hard to tell.

It didn’t matter.

I moved quickly to inspect.

Every wall of the shop held swords only—

Different kinds of swords.

Above each sword floated a blue stone.

When approached,

It emitted information about the weapon and its price.

I exhaled.

Silence fell.

The shopkeeper stopped what he was doing.

I hadn’t seen him stop—

But silence itself spoke.

"Did you not find what you seek?" he asked.

"Everything you have is specialized weapons," I said without turning.

"Can you afford anything higher?" ca his voice from behind .

I turned.

Focused my gaze on him.

Then walked toward the door—

And left.

"That was foolish," I muttered.

A Fourth-Rank Lord—

When he learned ancient weapons existed in the secret zone,

He had nearly destroyed the entire invasion force trying to obtain one.

How had I so simply expected

That an ancient weapon would just be here?

What an idiot I am.

It seems finding places that sell ancient weapons

Will not be nearly as easy as I imagined.