Interim Admission Permit

Juanito eventually reached the town hall the patrol guard spoke of.

In front of him was a brick layered structure reminiscent of ancient medieval architecture. Its standard compared to the rest was higher with its arches and stone cladding.

Bracing himself, he entered the establishment and was greeted by a laid-back atmosphere as though it was trying to complement the damp atmosphere outside.

He could hear the vivid mutterings of scrutiny and ridicule that held no scruple from the onlookers. Even the slightest breathe was caught

As soon as he stepped inside, the people pointed fingers at his peculiarity as if he was an exotic animal for display.

Heedless to his disagreeable critics, he proceeded to the reception unhindered, "Good day, I want to register my identity, please" he said.

"Which county?" asked the freckled clerk lady with a large bosom suspiciously after eyeing Juanito up and down. If not for your stern expression, she would quite be desirable to the eyes.

"I came from a remote place, unfortunate-"

"An outlander, huh. 3 silver for the admission permit valid for 3 months. Certain government-owned establishments require this to enter such as the Royal Museum and Kingdom Library in the Capital City. Entering a state-owned county without said permit is illegal and punishable by law."

After rudely cutting Juanito off, the clerk robotically issued a barrage of words to whom Juanito effortlessly grasped.

"What's your name?" she continued, her eyes fixed on a small parchment of paper with a quill in her hand. "Juanito…Bezos" he replied with a straight face.

"..Pardon?" the clerk's brows inadvertently furrowed, finding the man's name quite odd.

"I can write it myself", he politely advised to which the clerk obliged. "Sure", the clerk then passed the quill pen to Juanito as she carefully watched the man spell his name on the paper.

With practiced movements, Juanito wrote his name legibly. He was already certain that this world shared the same alphanumeric characters as the basis of spoken and written language. After all, the parchment on his hand had the exact characters printed on it.

After penning his name, he then silently read the bold words on the upper portion of the parchment, "Interim Admission Permit.."

"For an outlander, you got quite the decent skill.." the clerk commented approvingly.

With a toothy grin and a bright smile, Juanito accepted the compliment, "I was trained at a young age. For a businessman such as I, this isn't worth mentioning."

"Businessman?" the clerk asked curiously. "..also, affix your thumbprint above your name, ink pad's here.."

"I own quite a multitude of merchandise from a faraway land. Articles unheard of.."

Dipping his thumb in the pad, he conveyed the purpose of his visit to slowly build rapport with the constituents of this area. He intended to spread the narrative of a mystical merchant from a mysterious land.

Whether the woman before him would believe him or pass him up as a raving lunatic, it would not matter as every morsel of gossip that leaves this building counts as publicity.

Time will tell, and that time is soon.

Juanito already rejected the idea of formulating a believable alibi of his existence and the structure that would tower above these lands. It was impossible from the onset.

The goods he will offer are just far beyond this world's insight. No amount of scholarly wisdom could ever dream of discerning the intricate nature of the system's wares. Unless, of course, there is another transmigrator who came from the same era as him.

And the best course of action would be to take the initiative, to be out in the open, a head-on collision against this world's beliefs and principles.

Inevitably, a culture shock would overwhelm the people here but that isn't his concern. All he had to do was to keep his boat afloat amidst the tumultuous waves that tries to pry his secrets open.

"Done.." he slid the paper back to the now guarded clerk.

After verifying that everything is in order, the clerk logged Juanito's information in a registry and handed the permit with the townhall's seal.

"Remember, renew every 3 months…", she said routinely as her eyes now scanned the man before her with interest and a bit of skepticism.

"Noted. Thank you for your assistance.." he said appreciatively but before he could turn on his heels and leave, the clerk threw a question he did not expect. "By the way, mister. Where would your business be located? Or do you still plan on opening one?"

Directly facing Juanito, the clerk could now closely inspect the man's facial features after dropping a bit of her previous bias.

Well trimmed, slicked-back hair and clean-shaven face, he sure was refreshing to the eyes. Unlike the boorish lot that populated this area, he was a dreamy figure. Especially his blue eyes, its depths could easily drown one's soul if caught unprepared.

"You'll know when the time comes.." he responded with a deep voice accompanied by a serene timbre.

Juanito then left the building leaving a mixture of odd gazes in his wake.

"Susan..", "Hey, Susan!"

The clerk named Susan was freed from her reverie by a spirited call.

"What was that about? you seemed to be in deep thought."

"By the way, an aloof woman like you actually spent more effort than what was necessary", Susan's colleague beamed with a knowing grin, and continued, "What uncanny development."

"Will you cut it out, Margarette…" Susan snapped back at her friend, annoyed. "The fellow's quite the odd one, I was just curious.."

"..If you say so.." sensing her friend's mood, Margarette dropped the matter but delivered a steaming rumor instead, "One more thing, have you heard the news? Princess Fiona just arrived at Bleakstone..it's the talk of the town right now"

"The matters of the crown isn't of our concern. Please, just get back to your seat.."

"Yes, yes. God, I swear! You're so boring at times.." with a pout, Margarette languidly walked back to her seat.

"Whatever", Susan said indifferently as she once again found a moment of respite. 'Indeed. Same old routine. Everyday…'

'…how dull'