Chapter 8: Trust Me, Bro

Sam followed the arrow's guidance until he reached his destination: an imposing building adorned with a banner that read 'Blood Moon Mercenary Guild.' The place had a striking appearance that caught the attention of passersby.

As he approached, Sam noticed the curious gazes of people entering and leaving the establishment. He was accustomed to such attention and paid it no mind. Considering paying to enter but realizing it wasn't necessary, he confidently stepped inside.

Upon entering the building, Sam found himself in a vast, open hall with a reception desk at its center, where two capable women efficiently managed affairs.

Surveying the grandeur of the place, Sam was impressed. Even though he was still in the mortal realm, the lowest of the world, the architecture and structures in these cities rivaled, if not surpassed, those on Earth, at least based on what he had seen in media and entertainment.

Lost in awe, he was oblivious to the person standing nearby, observing him with an amused expression. The man's gaze fell on the Ouroboros emblem on Sam's robe, and he narrowed his eyes.

"Hey, junior," the man called out.

Surprised by the older voice, Sam turned to look at the source and found himself face-to-face with an elder, appearing to be in his late 60s.

[Name: Elder Chen

Race: Human

Occupation: Elder Of The Blood Moon Mercenary Guild

Class: 3-Star Poison Master

Cultivation: 6th Level Of the Golden Core Formation Realm

Favourability: +1]

'Poison Master?' The term triggered a sense of caution in Sam's mind, perhaps influenced by the novels he had read. In his thoughts, words like poison, fiend, demonic, etc., typically implied malevolence, and those associated with such terms were often considered nefarious individuals. Despite his concerns, he maintained a composed expression.

"Judging by your face, you are not familiar with this place, are you?" Elder Chen inquired.

Sam nodded, preferring to keep his responses concise.

'Going by the script, this elder either wants to take me as his disciple, or he intends to assign me a dangerous task that only I, an orphan with no one to worry about, can undertake.'

The situation piqued his curiosity, yet he remained wary and alert.

"I see," the elder said, pausing for a moment before continuing. "Young man, where do you come from?"

In his mind, he panicked, trying to find an answer that would satisfy the elder without drawing too much attention to himself.

After a few moments of careful consideration, he replied, "I am from the spiritual realm." He knew that claiming to be from the mortal plane or a higher plane might make him vulnerable to exploitation, as the elder could perceive him as lacking a powerful background. On the other hand, stating he was from a dominant realm like the celestial realm or transcendent realm would only cause panic and unnecessary trouble. Thus, mentioning the spiritual realm seemed like a perfect middle ground, as cultivators and Daoists from that realm were neither too weak nor too overpowering.

The elder's cautious demeanor made it clear that he wasn't easily fooled. However, Sam was undeterred and maintained his composure as he spoke.

"What brings you to the mortal plane then?" the elder inquired, playing his part.

"My father wants me to gain real-life experience, so he left me alone in the mortal realm. Though I have a feeling that some powerful cultivators are secretly watching over me, ready to protect me from any potential harm," Sam replied, a confident smile on his face.

The elder was silently impressed with Sam's response, recognizing the young one's adeptness. However, he kept his thoughts to himself, refraining from voicing any compliments aloud.

Sam stood there, bewildered. He couldn't comprehend why the favorability towards him had suddenly increased.

"Is that how it is? Well, regardless, you better consider changing your attire, kid, unless you want to invite unnecessary trouble," the elder warned, his tone serious and cautionary.

Sam was taken aback and couldn't fathom the reason behind such advice.

'What's the issue with what I'm wearing?'

"Respectful elder, I fail to grasp your concern," Sam added, seeking clarification.

"Come with me," the elder said, his tone commanding as he started walking without allowing Sam to interject.

With no other option, Sam chose to follow the elder. They headed towards an area marked as "private," but since the elder was leading him, Sam assumed there would be no issue entering. It became evident that the elder, Chen, was guiding him to an external section of the guild accessible only from the private area of the Blood Moon Mercenary Guild.

Eventually, they reached a tranquil garden with a small fountain at its center, surrounded by tables and chairs positioned across from each other. The ambiance suggested it was a place designed for serious business discussions.

He settled into one of the chairs and motioned for Sam to take the one opposite him, to which Sam obliged.

With a wave of his hand, the elder summoned a pot from some unseen location, and tea gracefully poured into the two cups that materialized out of thin air.

he casually grabbed one of the cups and took a sip, inviting Sam to join him by gesturing toward the other cup of tea.

Our Protagonist couldn't shake off his quirky paranoia. He couldn't help but imagine that the elder, with all his craftiness, might have set a trap just for him!

'ha! Poison, perhaps? Or some powerful sleeping potion?' he speculated with a raised eyebrow. 'Well, isn't this just my luck!'

The teahouse's ambiance didn't ease his nerves either. It had an air of mystery, with shadows playing tricks on his mind. The teacups seemed to giggle at his perplexed expression, and the teapot winked slyly at him as if sharing some secret joke. "You're in for a wild ride, my friend!" he imagined the teapot whispering.

The elder observed Sam's hesitant expression, a mix of uncertainty and composure on the young one's face. In that moment, the elder seemed to glimpse into Sam's thoughts.

"Don't fret, kid. I'm not here to cause you any harm. You can place your trust in me," the elder assured, the weight of their words resonating with maturity and experience.

'Trust you? With my vast knowledge of anime, I've learned that even villains can be trustworthy, but the one person you can never fully rely on is the one who repeatedly says, 'Trust me, bro.' Sam contemplated in the recesses of his mind.

....

[Author's Note: Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter. I would appreciate it if you could donate some Power Stone. Please share your thoughts in the comments section.]