They Hated Me in My First Life, But Now I Have the Love System
Chapter 292 - 292 His Royal Legs

Chapter 292: His Royal Legs Chapter 292: His Royal Legs This was normal life.

That’s when it clicked in his head.

Stop acting like a stranger, Abuchi.

If no one here found it odd, then neither would he.

This wasn’t some alien land.

He wasn’t in a jungle of wild laws and strange people.

Okay, maybe he was since Marka had such a reputation.

Still he was in Marka.

And right now, that made him a Markan.

He adjusted the strap on his shoulder, stood straighter, and pulled his hood down a bit more over his face.

Blend in.

Flow with the current.

That’s how you survive.

Two people ahead of him.

Almost there.

He inhaled slowly, then exhaled like he had just reached a mountain peak.

Finally.

This line business was…

interesting.

Not his thing at all, but still, something about it felt oddly satisfying.

Like being part of a slow, ticking system where your turn would come, no matter how long it took.

There was comfort in that kind of certainty.

But still, he glanced at the sky, I’ve been standing for hours.

Can I at least get a chair next time?

Or a stool?

Even a rock?

My royal legs aren’t made for this kind of punishment.

Then it happened.

The man in front of someone who was in front of him was done.

He picked up his goods, crispy yams, bundles of herbs, shiny fruits, and thanked the trader with a respectful nod.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, voice light and polite.

But what caught Abuchi’s attention wasn’t the thanks.

It was the small yellow notes the man handed over.

Wait… His mind went blank for a second.

What’s that?

That’s not our currency.

His eyes narrowed.

That’s Marka’s money.

His heart dropped.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

He patted his pocket discreetly.

He already knew what was in there, Lionaran currency.

Glorious, shimmering, and absolutely useless here.

It would be like trying to buy food with pebbles.

Wait a second….

Why did the taxi drivers and that mob leader collect the Lionara money he gave them without speaking up?

Probably because the equivalent in Marka currency was quite high.

Who wouldn’t want to make a profit?

He suddenly felt hot.

Of all the things to forget… I forgot the most basic one.

Local currency?

Really?

Me?

Prince of Lionara?

He stared at the yellow notes being folded by the seller.

Simple paper, different design, different weight, unfamiliar symbols.

He didn’t have any of that.

His mouth went dry.

The trader glanced at him, it was almost his turn.

Abuchi stood still.

Okay.

Deep breath.

You’re smart.

You’re trained.

You’ve handled worse.

But he couldn’t lie, this one felt… dumb.

Embarrassing, almost.

He had gone from planning how to evade royal investigators to forgetting to change his money.

What a fall from grace.

Still, he squared his shoulders and took one step forward, brain already racing for a solution.

There had to be a way out of this.

He couldn’t, wouldn’t, be the guy who stood in line for hours, only to say “Sorry, I don’t have the right money.” Not today.

Not him.

As he stood there, still frozen as he watched the person in front of him, Abuchi’s mind was already spinning into survival mode.

Okay… okay… think.

You’ve done this before.

You’ve traveled, dozens of kingdoms, festivals, grand halls, underground auctions, secret art shows.

You know how this works.

But the bitter truth hit him a second later.

No, I don’t.

Not really.

He had been to all those places, sure.

He had performed in front of kings, shaken hands with diplomats, stolen the breath of crowds with a single brushstroke.

But he’d never had to worry about this side of things, this normal, mundane, practical part of living.

His assistants always handled the money exchange.

His staff always prepared the local currency before his feet even touched foreign soil.

Even when he wanted to wander alone, someone always pressed neatly folded bills into his hand beforehand, like it was nothing.

He never had to ask.

Never had to think.

Now, standing under the rising sun of Marka, with a trader glancing at him expectantly, he realized just how much of that world was gone.

So this is what being normal feels like, he thought bitterly.

He glanced to the side, hoping maybe one of his companions would notice the distress on his face, the helpless look in his eyes.

But they didn’t.

Karen was deep in conversation with John, laughing at something, gesturing animatedly like they were old friends who just reunited.

Ekene had leaned against the wall, head tilted back, chatting lazily with Nnenna.

They all looked so relaxed, as though they had forgotten he even existed.

A strange ache tugged at his chest.

They forgot me already?

Just like that?

He wasn’t even that far from them.

But it was like he had been standing in line for hours, and now he didn’t exist to them anymore.

It was ridiculous.

He looked back at the trader who was now tapping his fingers against the table, clearly growing impatient.

As if he had guessed that the young man behind the person he was currently serving must be making huge purchases and was eager to get to him.

Please just pretend like I’m not here.

Abuchi thought bitterly as he looked away, refusing to meet the traders eager looks.

He took a small step back, heart tight in his chest, and whispered to himself, “Alright, Plan B…” He didn’t know what Plan B was yet.

But he needed to figure it out fast.

Immediately, Abuchi shoved his hands into his pockets, ready to pull out his phone and call one of his companions for help.

But his fingers met nothing but fabric and air.

Wait…

what?

His stomach dropped.

No…

no no no…

don’t tell me… Then he remembered.

He had handed his phone over earlier, just before getting in line, thinking this would be a quick dash in and out.