After the match ended, Sprex congratulated me with enthusiasm.

"Wow, you did an amazing job! Here, it's not much, but take this and go have some fun! Oh, and remember, you can’t leave the city with the contract seal on you, so don't wander out."

Handing me a single silver coin, Sprex turned back to watch the next match.

Watching him leave, Cradle came up beside me, grinning.

"Well, well, looks like that stingy Sprex went all out! You’ll be able to afford a good meal with that!"

Saying this, Cradle went back to prepare for his own match deeper within the arena.

I watched him go and then looked down at the square-shaped silver coin, about the size of a 500-yen coin, in my hand.

Iron coins are the cheapest currency, followed by copper coins worth ten iron coins each, and then silver coins worth ten copper coins each. Gold coins are worth ten times that. As a rookie gladiator like me, I usually only earn a few iron coins per match.

In other words, earning a single silver coin would normally require dozens of matches. This was definitely a rare treat.

A steady job could apparently bring in around two gold coins a month. In comparison, a fledgling gladiator like me earned almost nothing. Still, the gladiator corps provides food, clothing, and shelter, so it’s not an issue.

With the silver coin in hand, I decided to head out into the city.

If a single gold coin were worth about 100,000 yen, a silver coin would be worth close to 10,000 yen. This might be my first time dining out.

As I left the arena, I made eye contact with one of the gladiators monitoring the flow of spectators.

"Hey, Mat! I heard you won! That's awesome!"

"Yeah, it somehow worked out," I replied, and the man, pointing across at another gladiator, laughed.

On the opposite side was a gladiator from the Drasli's Gladiator Corps, quietly handling the entry fees and avoiding our gaze.

"If I had a match today, I would've nailed it! But hey, I'll give it my best tomorrow!"

He laughed, and I chuckled back before heading into the city.

Walking around, I found the streets surprisingly clean and lively, with a foreign ambiance. Although the colors weren’t especially vibrant, there were open-air pubs, street vendors, and food stalls along the bustling streets, giving me a sense of being a tourist.

"Hey there, gladiator! Want some meat? Have a bite!" called a plump middle-aged woman, holding a skewer of meat, as she spotted me.

Among all the fabric-clad townsfolk, my fur-laden gladiator attire stood out, easily marking me. As for why gladiators wear such clothing, it’s because many of us are skilled enough to hunt beasts ourselves, making our own leather clothing.

"How much?" I asked, and the woman gave a hearty laugh.

"Ah, a gentleman! One iron coin per meat skewer!"

I furrowed my brows.

"I only have a silver coin. Do you have change?"

She exaggeratedly gasped upon seeing my silver coin.

"Only a silver coin, huh? Looks like you're doing well! I’ll come to watch your next match! Now, how about you buy ten skewers so the change is easier?"

She grinned, watching me closely. I laughed and handed her the silver coin.

"I'll take ten."

"Now that's a big spender, gladiator!"

She handed over the skewers along with my change in a small cloth pouch.

"I'm Mat. Hope you’ll cheer for me."

"Oh, Mat, right? I'll bring a whole crowd!"

It seems my name, Yamato, kept morphing into something different. Well, since the match-up lists display my name as “Mat,” I suppose that’s to be expected.

Smiling wryly, I left, nibbling on the skewer as I walked through the city. The savory aroma and hint of sweetness made it quite delicious.

Gladiator meals mainly consist of salted beast meat, so it was nice to have a different flavor. Still, I’d love to have a salad, fruit, and maybe even some wine.

Walking along, I noticed a small figure in a narrow alley between two buildings.

Upon closer inspection, it was a child dressed in rags, looking like a homeless waif, terribly thin, with filthy hair and skin.

I crouched beside the child, who lay half-conscious with eyes barely open, lifeless.

“...Starved to death, huh?”

My heart heavy, I gently patted the child’s head and closed their eyes.

Then, I noticed a piece of cloth nearby twitching slightly. Lifting it, I found another child huddled underneath, about ten years old, painfully thin but alive.

They were alive, but seemed too weak to move.

"...The meat won't work for them," I murmured, quickly looking around and heading off to find help.

A little way down, I spotted a stall selling drinks and meat soup.

"Water and that soup, please."

“Three iron coins!” said the vendor, a man with curly hair. I handed him a copper coin and took the water and soup, carefully holding onto my skewers.

Hurrying back, I saw the child had closed their eyes again.

Fearing the worst, I placed the warm soup in front of them.

"Here, hot soup. Can you drink it?"

The child opened their eyes, glancing up at me before quickly snatching the wooden bowl and turning away to drink it. Seeing the child’s skeletal frame beneath the rags stirred a painful ache in my chest.

After draining the bowl, the child looked back at me, fearful, their eyes filled with the worry of being scolded.

"Here’s some water, too."

Avoiding words of reassurance, I offered water instead, which the child eagerly took, drinking it as though it was the most refreshing thing they'd ever tasted.

Finishing the water, they glanced at the skewers in my hand.

"A…"

Their hoarse voice trailed off, but their eyes spoke of their hunger.

"Chew slowly. Don’t swallow it all at once."

I handed them a skewer, and the child’s eyes widened, glancing between me and the meat. After a moment, they bit into it, tears streaming down their face.

Seeing the child cry as they ate, I let out a heavy sigh.

This was not Japan.

The reality struck me profoundly in that moment.