Lazy Knight

"Good boy, your character truly touches us. If you ever encounter difficulties, be sure to come to us. We will do everything in our power to help," Mrs. Ryan said with a solemn

"I am OK"

At that moment, there was a knoc

"I'll go see who's there." Mrs. Ryan immediately headed downstairs, and Glen figured it was time to leave. He bade the sheriff farewell and followed her down.

Outside the door stood four police officers in black uniforms. They immediately saluted Mrs. Ryan when they saw her.

"It's you all! Here to check on your captain, right? Come on in," Mrs. Ryan said, clearly familiar with them, stepping aside to let them in.

As the four officers stepped inside, they noticed Glen coming down the stairs. A younger officer, with deep brown hair, was the first to speak in surprise.

"You're the one who lives over in Baieke, aren't you? What are you doing here?"

The others seemed to recognize him too, their faces shifting to an "Ah, it's him!" expression.

"He sells furniture over on Center Street. I saw him there and asked him to help replace a broken door. But I didn't expect him to be able to heal your captain," Mrs. Ryan explained with a smile, turning to Glen. "Kid, are you leaving already? I was hoping to let you try some of Dougley's special wine!"

"No, I—"

"Wait!" The young officer suddenly interrupted Glen before he could finish. "Ma'am, you said he sells furniture? Isn't he a butcher? And he healed the captain?!"

"Yes," Mrs. Ryan nodded confidently. "Not only is he a butcher, but he also does woodworking. As for healing Dougley, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself."

The four officers exchanged glances, bewildered.

Putting aside Glen's unusual combination of occupations, the fact that he could heal their captain was hard to comprehend. They knew Dougley's injuries were no ordinary wounds, and under normal circumstances, conventional treatment wouldn't have been enough.

Could he possibly be using magic or magical tools?

This was the unspoken thought that passed through all their minds.

"How did you do it?" the young officer couldn't help but ask.

Reluctantly, Glen repeated the explanation he'd given earlier, about how he'd healed Dougley, though the officers remained somewhat skeptical.

But Glen didn't care if they believed him. Once he finished explaining, he turned back to Mrs. Ryan.

"Ma'am, I've measured the doorframe's dimensions. I can bring the new door over and install it tomorrow. Is there anything else you'd like?"

"Just make it like the one I picked. There's nothing else," Mrs. Ryan replied, referring to one of the doors he had displayed at his stall.

"Alright, then. Goodbye, ma'am."

"Take care, and good luck."

As Glen left, one of the slightly plump officers muttered, "What a mysterious guy…"

The others nodded in agreement.

After exchanging pleasantries with Mrs. Ryan, the officers went upstairs to check on their captain.

As soon as they met, the officers had intended to offer their well-wishes, but Dougley immediately cut to the point.

"Forget the pleasantries. Did anything happen at the station while I was out?"

The officers exchanged glances. They all knew their captain's personality well, so his bluntness didn't surprise them.

The young officer with dark brown hair spoke up.

"Captain, you better prepare yourself. Things at the station are looking pretty bad…"

"What? Is it those group leaders again?" Dougley raised an eyebrow.

The young officer grimaced. "The group leaders are fine. The real problem is the families of the townsfolk who were killed. They're about to tear down the station. After you were injured yesterday, those criminals went on a rampage in the town, kidnapping more children. The officers can barely keep up…"

"What?!" Dougley almost passed out from anger. "Those filthy pests! They'll burn in hell! Cough… cough…"

"Captain!" The officers were shocked by Dougley's reaction, worried he might collapse on the spot.

Since the first child went missing, the pressure on the officers had been mounting. Dougley had been bearing the brunt of it, and now that the situation had escalated, his emotions had finally boiled over.

He cursed for a while, and it wasn't until his anger subsided that the officers dared to speak.

"Captain, are you alright?" one of the officers asked softly.

Dougley took a few deep breaths before glancing at him. "This case obviously involves some kind of extraordinary power. Didn't anyone report this to higher-ups?"

"We did report it. They said they'll send a second-tier knight, but it'll take a few days…"

"How many days?!" Dougley's eyes widened.

"About… ten days…"

"Ten days?! Those kids might already be dead! They're saying it'll take ten days?! Didn't you make them understand the severity of this? We're talking about over twenty children! Over twenty families!" Dougley shouted, coughing heavily. His face turned red, and veins popped on his forehead.

"We told them everything, but they said the knight's name is Lord Tyrell. You know his personality, Captain…" the officer said, trailing off.

"Tyrell…" Dougley closed his eyes, a deep sense of helplessness washing over him.

Tyrell was infamous for being a lazy knight. No matter the size of the task, he never worked with any urgency. Even though many people criticized him, his procrastination was legendary.

Dougley could already imagine Tyrell leisurely riding on his horse, drinking to excess while taking his sweet time.

"You all go back first. I'll head there myself soon," Dougley waved them off.

"But Captain, your health…" the officers voiced their concerns.

"I'm fine!" Dougley shouted, his voice booming.

Seeing that further persuasion would be futile, the officers reluctantly left.

Counting the copper and silver coins he'd earned today, Glen was in a great mood as he drove his deer cart back to Baieke Town.

After a quick meal of bread at home, he headed straight to the pigpen.

The noble young master hadn't changed his lazy ways.

The black pigs in the pen were snorting loudly, their hooves surrounded by weeds they refused to eat.

Clearly, they were starving.

Meanwhile, Lawell was lounging under a tree, yawning contentedly.

When he saw Glen approach, he immediately pretended to be hard at work, cutting grass with a sickle.

"I guess you didn't listen to what I said this morning. Don't blame me now," Glen said as he looked at Lawell's pretend work, then began gathering the grass to feed the pigs.

Who would want to do a commoner's work? I'd rather die than do it… Lawell thought, grumbling silently as he kept his head down.

Once the pigs were fed, Glen turned his attention to crafting the wooden door Mrs. Ryan had requested. It didn't take him long to finish.

He spent the rest of the evening making furniture.

When it was time for dinner, Glen intentionally didn't let Lawell have any food. Lawell, just as stubborn, refused to eat, retreating back to the warehouse to sleep.

Clearly, the spoiled young master had no idea how terrifying hunger could be.