The Lord Demon King is Unfathomable!

As wave after wave of furniture was thrown out, it didn't take long for people to gather at the hotel entrance to watch the spectacle.

Curious onlookers stared at the scene, whispering in hushed tones, and there were even a few nosy individuals who went up to inquire what was happening.

It was then that they learned the name Roxey Colin.

The eccentric aristocrat from the Aus Empire was a stickler for cleanliness, refusing to use anything that others had touched. That's why he ordered his servants to throw all the furniture out.

Seeing that these were quality items, some couldn't resist picking them up. When they noticed that the hotel staff didn't react, a chaotic rush ensued, with people enthusiastically hauling items back to their homes.

Some dignified citizens held back out of pride, but by the time they came to their senses, there wasn't so much as a teacup left to grab.

Soon enough, however, they found another opportunity.

Because the furniture wasn't thrown out all at once, but in several batches.

At first, several tables were carried out together. Later, a single teacup or a walnut-wood tray might be discarded.

But even a mere teacup turned out to be valuable porcelain—something most hadn't just never touched but had never even seen before!

And so, a crowd stood shivering in the cold, eagerly awaiting their next "feeding," turning the spectacle into a farcical drama that dragged on for the entire night. Soon, the busybodies along all of Queen Street knew a big shot had arrived at the Embrace of Dawn Hotel...

By early dawn the next day.

The last batch of items rejected by Mr. Roxey was tossed out of the hotel.

According to the hotel staff, this was the final load.

Dockworkers and nearby market vendors gleefully hauled large bags of discarded goods back home.

Saint Sis above!

Those were velvet pillows!

In Thunder City, sleeping on mattresses stuffed with pea shells, duck feathers, or even straw was already considered a sign of "respectability."

If it weren't for this wealthy aristocrat's bizarre whims, they would never have known just how comfortable the mattresses of the rich truly were!

Those lucky enough to snag something wore jubilant expressions, while those who missed out or felt too dignified to participate bemoaned their late discovery, pounding their chests in regret.

Meanwhile, some well-dressed citizens stood on the sidelines, watching the uncouth scrabble for goods and muttering under their breaths.

"Pure Trelawney wool blankets, velvet bedding… Saint Sis above, which wasteful fool threw all these treasures away?!"

A man in a light gray wool coat exclaimed in astonishment, only to have his colleague slap a hand over his mouth.

"Shh! Don't run your mouth! If someone hears you, it could hurt the reputation of Thunder Savings Bank!" His colleague nervously glanced around before letting him go once he confirmed no one was paying them any attention.

The two of them were employees from a nearby bank, stepping out for a cup of tea during their lunch break when they stumbled upon the scene.

While he too thought such extravagance was absurd, he didn't want to offend some wealthy, influential figure over a careless remark.

Things like this had happened before!

The man whose mouth had been covered rolled his eyes and muttered, "Nutjob."

Although there was indeed precedence for "disasters of the tongue," the troublemaker from the previous incident had total savings of less than 100 gold coins.

From what he knew of these genuinely wealthy aristocrats, such individuals wouldn't even bother to register what someone like him said.

Thunder City's imagination of high society was shaped by vastly divergent perspectives.

Listening to their conversation, another man in a dark brown wool coat, wearing a short-brimmed bowler hat, stroked his chin and said, "I think I've heard of this gentleman. Supposedly, he's a noble from the Imperial family—goes by the name… Roxey Colin?"

His words had barely left his mouth when another man holding a teacup with neatly combed hair jumped in eagerly.

"That's right! That's the name! My useless younger brother works in the kitchen at the Embrace of Dawn Hotel. He even told me it's the first time he's seen such a handsome gentleman—his boss, Andor, standing next to him looked like a Goblin Chief!"

"Andor is probably over the moon; the wealthy folk in this city will be breaking down his hotel's doors," said a nearby man in a deep blue wool coat, envy written all over his face.

He managed a hotel in the area—but not the kind for accommodation, rather a wine boutique with only fifty square meters of storefront.

Though he wasn't particularly wealthy himself, his dealings with the affluent had taught him plenty about their peculiarities.

The same vintage of wine, if from an Imperial vineyard, would always fetch a higher price than one from the Ryan Kingdom—even though, in his professional opinion, the southern plains of the Silver Pine Forest produced the best wine grapes.

Wine from those grapes carried a unique aroma of chestnut and blackberry, especially when fermented in wine barrels made from local Silver Pine wood—it tasted divine!

Rumor had it that even the Little Demons in the Maze couldn't resist it.

Yet, the frustrating reality was that consumers simply wouldn't buy it. Thunder City's elite preferred drinking "spicy water" made from Imperial potatoes.

In Thunder City's hierarchy of prestige, Imperial nobles and the Campbell Duchy's Royal Family occupied the same social niche, though insofar as wealth was concerned, the former sometimes outshone the latter.