Joke

Gotaya instinctively reached for her bow when she saw the strange man in front of her, but her hand found only empty air.

The man, dressed in dark clothes and with an aura of danger about him, didn't seem to care about her reaction. He simply turned and started walking away.

Seeing this, Gotaya relaxed slightly, watching him disappear into the mist deeper into the town. Only then did she take a moment to reassess her surroundings. The town felt eerie, almost lifeless.

"Is there anyone living here?" Gotaya muttered to herself as she stepped lightly onto the cobblestone road.

She looked in both directions. One path led out of the town, while the other led deeper into it. Her curiosity piqued, Gotaya chose to walk toward the heart of the town.

But after only a short distance, the door of a large three-story house creaked open. An old man, tall and burly, stepped out, holding an iron mug steaming with a hot drink.

The old man took a sip, then glanced coldly at the elven girl before speaking in a flat tone: "If you don't want to die, stay away from the deeper parts of this town."

"Who are you?" Gotaya asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

The old man didn't seem interested in answering. He casually poured the rest of his drink onto the ground and turned to go back inside.

Gotaya, slightly irritated, said nothing further. She turned back toward the misty town, but now, with the old man's warning, a sense of foreboding gnawed at her. She couldn't shake the feeling that something terrifying lurked in the town's depths.

After thinking it over, Gotaya wisely decided not to press forward. Instead, she made her way back to Glen's house.

As she walked, she couldn't help but feel an unsettling sense of being watched from all directions. A prickling sensation spread across her skin, and a wave of unease flooded her.

What is this place? she thought, startled by the realization that she'd overlooked these subtle sensations earlier.

By the time she returned home, she was relieved to be inside the safety of Glen's place.

Meanwhile, a cart pulled by a deer slowly trundled down a rough, muddy road, with two riders on horseback following some distance behind.

The bald, muscular man looked at the cart and scratched his shiny scalp, a bit puzzled. "Zamat, why aren't we bringing more people? Just the two of us can't take on the one who kidnapped Fang, can we?"

The slim mercenary, chewing on a piece of grass, scoffed. "Who's going to fight that guy? We're just here to go through the motions."

"Go through the motions?" the bald man repeated, confused.

"Yeah. Whether he's the one we're looking for or not, we won't engage. We'll just follow for a bit and then head back, tell the boss we questioned him, and if it's not him, at least we'll avoid the blame," the slim mercenary explained, a smug look on his face.

Hearing this, the bald man nodded appreciatively. "Oh! That's the smartest plan I've ever heard!"

The slim mercenary, clearly proud of himself, grinned widely.

What they didn't know, however, was that Glen had been listening in on their conversation the entire time.

"Smart, huh?" Glen thought with a small chuckle, amused by their naive attempt at deception.

Tia, sitting beside him, noticed the small smile tugging at the corner of Glen's mouth and curiously asked, "What's so funny, Mr. Glen?"

Glen quickly wiped the smile off his face and answered casually, "Oh, nothing. Just remembered a joke."

"A joke?" Tia's curiosity piqued. "Tell me, Mr. Glen!"

Glen thought for a moment before pulling out a few simple jokes from his past life, the kind of easy ones that would get a quick laugh.

Tia, who had a very low tolerance for humor, couldn't hold back her laughter. She covered her mouth as she laughed so hard that tears formed in her eyes.

Her laughter rang out, light and clear, and the two mercenaries following behind could hear it too.

"What's with them? Why are they laughing like that?" the bald man asked, scratching his head.

"Who knows? Just ignore them," the slim mercenary replied dismissively.

After a while, the two mercenaries followed their earlier plan and stopped when they were sure the cart had moved far enough. The cart was soon out of their sight.

Glen and Tia continued on their way, eventually reaching the outskirts of Bayek Town.

Glen instructed Tia to return home first, as usual, and he headed toward the pigpen.

The grass under his feet had sunk into the dirt from constant use, and a well-worn path led into the forest. Glen walked along it until he arrived at a familiar spot.

Night Howl, the wolf, was focused on devouring something it had caught, its bloodied muzzle glinting in the dim light. When it noticed Glen's presence, it raised its head, letting out a soft howl.

Lavel, with his distinctive curly hair, stood by the pigpen, filling the trough with food. He didn't seem to notice Glen approaching.

Glen chuckled softly, reminded of his rural life from his past, though the scene would've felt more familiar if Lavel weren't wearing his noble clothes.

"Looks like you're getting pretty good at this," Glen teased, his tone lighthearted.

Lavel turned his head upon hearing Glen's voice, only to immediately glance away, muttering quietly to himself, This is all your fault…

Ignoring the noble's silent frustration, Glen got straight to the point. "Tomorrow, you don't need to come here. I've found someone… well, a temporary worker. I've got other plans for you."

Lavel, however, didn't react as Glen had expected. Instead of relief, he looked visibly reluctant.

"Why?! I... I mean, I've only been doing this for a few days, and while there were a few mistakes, I..." Lavel stammered, trying to justify himself.

Glen, confused, asked, "Wait... don't you hate doing this kind of work?"

Lavel's expression froze, and his eyes shifted nervously. He quickly tried to explain, "I didn't say I liked it, but I think one should do things well, that's... what my father taught me."

Glen wasn't buying it, but didn't press the issue. He smirked and teased, "Oh, your father sounds like quite the professional."

"Yeah... he's always been very... professional..." Lavel replied, the words clearly strained.

Glen narrowed his eyes, giving him a deadpan stare, making the silence between them feel even heavier.

After a long, awkward pause, Glen finally spoke, "Don't worry. The task I need you for won't take long. Once I find someone, you'll be free to go back."

"Alright," Lavel muttered, clearly relieved the conversation was over.

Glen inspected the pigpen facilities one last time before leaving.

Instead of heading back to the town, he made his way to the lumber area. He intended to build the lumber shed today since the wood would be useless if it got rained on.

Meanwhile, the Hunter Mercenary Group was having little luck in Duder Town.

The surprise attack had been too unexpected, and no matter how hard they tried to gather information, they couldn't find any substantial leads.

It was now nightfall. Scarred Man gathered everyone together to review all the information they'd gathered. In the end, he slammed his fist on the table in frustration.

"Nothing! No leads!" he shouted angrily.

It wasn't that the mercenaries were incompetent, but most of them were more suited to fighting than gathering intelligence, and a lot of them were slacking off.

"You useless fools! Useless!!!" Scarred Man roared, giving his subordinates a slap or a kick every now and then to vent his fury.

He raged for nearly an hour, repeatedly shouting insults at them.

Meanwhile, Zamat, the bald mercenary, couldn't help but admire the boss's endurance, thinking, Man, this guy's voice... is something else!