The ecstatic Sprex told me to fight in the main event next time.

Apparently, he wanted to organize a spectacular match while the buzz was still high, hoping to win over new fans.

Having fans in just one town might seem trivial, but Sprex explained that fans tend to talk about the fighters they support. Word of mouth becomes a powerful form of persuasion, gradually spreading influence.

It wasn’t a wrong idea. It was a marketing strategy that could apply even to professional wrestling.

However, back in Japan, we had television, the ultimate advertisement medium. Without that luxury in this world, building a name for oneself required slow and steady efforts.

The only exception, apparently, was the Gladiator Festival held before the King.

Released from Sprex’s clutches, I enjoyed a lavish dinner that evening. It included well-seasoned meat, soup, and soft bread—far better than our usual fare.

While I found the food decent, Emera was overjoyed, smiling as she ate.

"By the way, I earned another silver coin. How about we go shopping in town tomorrow?"

When I suggested this, Emera widened her eyes in surprise.

The next day, walking through the town with Emera, I found myself being approached by an unusual number of people.

A few oddballs even tried to pick a fight with me, but they ran off after I lightly knocked them to the ground.

When we passed by the food stall that sold meat last time, the female shopkeeper waved at me.

“Matt! I saw your match! You’re strong, aren’t you?”

As she shouted, a crowd began to gather.

“Brother, are you a gladiator? You sure look strong.”

“What are you talking about? Strong doesn’t even begin to describe him!”

The middle-aged man said this, and the woman exaggeratedly began recounting the goblin fight from the previous night, gesturing wildly.

Perhaps due to the lack of entertainment, the people who gathered listened intently, holding their breath.

When they heard about how I had kicked two goblins away in a single blow, cheers erupted.

“That’s amazing, brother. Were you a high-ranking adventurer or something before becoming a gladiator?”

“No, but I did make a living by fighting,” I replied.

“Ah, I see,” the man nodded knowingly. “A prisoner from a defeated country or a mercenary... No need to elaborate! I’ll cheer for you, so give it your all!”

“You don’t need to cheer—Matt’s definitely going to win! But the show’s almost over, so are you fighting again?”

“Yes, in the final match tomorrow,” I said.

“The main event! That’s incredible, especially for someone so young!”

Everyone expressed surprise and offered words of encouragement.

“Are you preparing for the match today?”

When asked, I shook my head lightly.

“I want to buy some clothes. Do you know any cheap stores?”

Hearing my question, the woman pounded her chest and laughed.

“Leave it to me! I’ll take you to a friend’s store and haggle the prices down for you!”

With that, she left her stall to lead the way.

“What about your shop?”

“Hey, old man! Sell the meat for me! I’ll be back soon!”

“Haha! Leave it to me! I’ll sell more than you ever could!”

Their chaotic exchange was unbelievable, but somehow, I found myself growing fond of this town.

At the clothing store, the woman’s energy remained unstoppable. She immediately began negotiating prices with her shopkeeper friend, even before I picked anything. By the time I looked around, she had already secured a 30% discount.

“Emera, choose something you like,” I said.

Emera froze, blinking at me in surprise.

“Oh, buying for the girl? She doesn’t look like your sister, though,” the shopkeeper commented, tilting her head curiously.

Nervously, Emera mustered the courage to explain, “I... I was on the verge of starvation when Yamato saved me... Now, I’m training to become a gladiator...”

Hearing this, the woman narrowed her eyes at me.

“So that’s Matt’s type, huh...?”

“No, it’s not. She’s just my apprentice.”

“Then why buy her clothes? Gladiator trainees usually wear the shabbiest outfits,” the woman said.

I glanced at Emera, who shrank away under their scrutiny. Gently patting her head, I turned to the woman.

“I’m going to make her strong. But even as a trainee, she’s still a girl. At least let her dress decently.”

Hearing my reply, the woman let out a breath of admiration.

“Wow, Matt, were you actually a noble’s son? No need to explain, though. Only a priest or a clueless aristocrat would have that level of compassion. Then again, most priests and nobles don’t care about orphans at all.”

While she spoke, the shopkeeper brought over some clothes—a simple white dress, short-sleeved shirts, and some loose-fitting pants. The latter seemed too large for Emera, who was still thin.

“How about that dress?” I asked, pointing to it.

Emera hesitated, glancing between the dress and me in confusion.

“For now, can she try it on? She bathes daily,” I said.

The shopkeeper gave Emera a quick look before nodding.

As Emera went to the back with the shopkeeper, I turned to the woman.

“By the way, I need shoes, too.”

“Ah, I know a great place! I’ll take you there!”

“I might not be able to afford them... How much are they?”

Surprisingly, leather shoes were relatively cheap.

With a white dress and leather shoes for Emera, and a pair of shoes for myself, I spent only nine copper coins.

On the way back, I walked alongside Emera, who looked far more feminine in her new outfit. As we approached the arena, she tugged at my sleeve and lowered her head.

“...Is it okay for me to be this happy?” she asked in a trembling voice.

I nodded slightly.

“Your brother was kind, wasn’t he?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Then he’d want you to be as happy as possible. So be even happier.”

Hearing this, Emera couldn’t hold back and began sobbing loudly.

In front of the crowded arena, filled with spectators, I had no choice but to keep patting her head, feeling utterly at a loss.