Changing the Door

As expected, Lavell had not completed his task the night before, and Glen wasted no time giving him a harsh beating. As a result, Lavell's face was still bruised and swollen the next day.

Tia couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

But she didn't dare to say anything, especially after seeing how ruthless Glen had been. She had been scared herself.

Lavell's wounds weren't the only thing noticeable. He also had faint dark circles under his eyes—not from lack of sleep due to pain, but because he had seen something terrifying the night before. Something indescribable—twisted and grotesque monsters that roamed the eerily quiet streets, searching for food.

Lavell had never seen anything like it. He was so terrified that he had urinated himself on the spot. He had wanted to flee, but Glen's orders had kept him rooted to the spot, caught between fear and obedience. The horror from that night haunted him, making the day even more unbearable.

"It seems like you didn't sleep well last night," Glen remarked as they sat down to breakfast. "But I'm not giving you any time to rest. You've got work to do. You'd better get your act together, or else you'll be getting another round of punishment."

Lavell weakly nodded, poking at his food with his fork.

Tia, unable to bear seeing him so miserable, quietly put some extra food in his bowl. She quickly glanced at Glen, hoping he wouldn't be angry.

Glen didn't even acknowledge her small act, merely continuing, "I'll let you eat now, but if you don't complete your task today, you'll be going hungry. Got it?"

Lavell gritted his teeth inwardly. Not that I care about food... But on the outside, he remained compliant, nodding obediently.

Glen, of course, knew what Lavell was really thinking, but he said nothing more. Soon enough, the boy would learn his lesson.

After breakfast, Tia cleaned up the dishes and started with the housework, while Glen took Lavell to the pigsty.

The faint smell of pig manure hit Lavell's nose, but he paid it no mind, as something even more frightening caught his attention. A large, one-eyed dog stood in front of him, its gaze cold and menacing.

"This is Night Howl. He'll be responsible for keeping you safe," Glen casually introduced the beast.

He then pointed at the modest pigsty. "Your task today is to feed these pigs. You'll need to go around and cut some grass, chop it up, and feed them. I'll show you the steps, but remember—if you don't finish, you know what happens."

With everything arranged, Glen climbed back into the cart and left, heading back toward town to sell more of his handmade furniture.

As the cart moved out of Beyek's outer forest, the sunlight grew warmer, and Glen couldn't help but feel his mood lighten.

However, as they neared Dud Town, Glen noticed something that made him frown: the patrols were much stricter than usual. There were more officers, and they seemed far more alert.

"Have they still not caught those child snatchers?" he muttered to himself.

There was nothing suspicious in the cart, and several of the officers recognized Glen, so they let him pass without much hassle.

As he made his way through the town, the unusual sight of the large deer and the cart caught the attention of several passersby. Many stared, some curious, others perhaps in disbelief at such an odd spectacle.

Glen didn't mind the attention—after all, it was good for business.

He parked the cart on Central Street, a prime location for selling. He carefully arranged his furniture and set up a small price list for the curious onlookers.

Meanwhile, Im, who had been selling meat for the past few days without Glen's competition, had finally seen his store pick up a bit. Still, it was nowhere near as busy as it had been when Glen was dominating the market.

Upon seeing Glen return with a cart full of furniture, Im's face darkened. He had hoped it would be another day without competition, but now he saw it wasn't meat he was selling today—it was furniture.

This shift in product sparked something in Im's mind. Since furniture didn't compete with meat, perhaps he could get a slice of the action. His mood immediately brightened.

Glen didn't concern himself with others' thoughts. His focus was solely on selling his products.

The crowd, curious about the beautifully crafted furniture, gathered around. Some were already commenting on how impressive it all looked.

"Mr. Glen, did you make all of this yourself? It's beautiful! It's almost as good as the noble's furniture!"

"Beautiful, yes, but not exactly cheap, huh?"

"These look like something only the wealthier families, or merchants, could afford. Not really for us regular folk."

"I think they're great! I'll buy a couple to try them out."

The comments from the crowd only made Glen smile wider. Seeing the interest was encouraging, and he was eager to sell.

"Everyone," he called out, raising his hand to quiet the crowd. "These pieces are all carefully crafted by me. They're durable and lightweight, perfect for any household. For example, this folding stool..."

He demonstrated how the small stool could be folded into a tiny wooden block with ease. The crowd marveled at the simplicity and functionality.

"You can use it at home or even take it with you when you travel. Very convenient."

As people kept asking about different items, Glen showed off his versatile furniture: a reclining chair that could be folded into a flat plank, a table that could be extended, and other space-saving designs. He described how these items could make life easier, especially after a hard day's work.

Before long, the entire lot had sold out. Glen was taken aback—he had expected it to take until nightfall for the furniture to sell, but it was gone in less than an hour.

Though surprised, he was more than pleased with the outcome.

What he didn't know was that this sale, and the unique functionality of his furniture, would spark a trend across the Zane Kingdom. His name would soon be recognized, especially among certain circles of merchants and nobles.

His day wasn't over, though. He still had to make a delivery—an installation job for a door frame.

After recalling the address, he set off with the cart, heading to the destination.

It was a middle-class home, with tasteful, well-maintained decorations. Glen knocked on the door, and a well-dressed, attractive woman answered.

"Ah, it's you, dear! I was expecting you a little later. Please, come in," she greeted him warmly.

Glen bowed slightly. "Greetings, ma'am."

"You can call me Mrs. Ryan. I thought you would come later, but it seems you've had a busy day?" she said, her tone light and friendly.

Glen smiled as he stepped inside. "Business has been better than I expected."

Mrs. Ryan, not rushing him to get to work, offered him a cup of warm water. Glen took it gratefully, but as he sipped, his ears caught the sound of faint coughing. It wasn't Mrs. Ryan.

"Which door are we replacing?" he asked, turning his attention to the task.

"Oh, the one upstairs by the window," Mrs. Ryan explained. "It makes a terrible noise when I forget to close it at night. I've been meaning to replace it for a while."

"Don't worry, it'll be fixed."

After finishing his drink, Glen gathered his tools and headed upstairs to get to work.