Chapter 22: Another Encounter

Dodd Town.

As Glen neared the town entrance, he noticed large patrols of officers outside. This was unusual.

Has something happened in Dodd Town recently? Looks like it's something serious... Glen paused to observe for only a moment before continuing forward.

Several officers who spotted him immediately stepped forward, their tone authoritative. "Halt! What's your business?"

"Bringing a pig into town to sell," Glen answered, stepping aside to let them see the cart.

The lead officer gave a look, and the others swarmed the cart to inspect it.

They shoved the dead pig around roughly; one even drew a dagger to peel back some skin and flesh, checking for anything abnormal inside.

Glen simply stood to the side, letting them do as they pleased. It didn't bother him; their handling didn't affect the meat's quality.

The officers sweated and fussed for a considerable time. Finally, perhaps tired or genuinely finding nothing amiss, they gave up.

They stepped back, shaking their heads at the lead officer to indicate no issues.

Only then did they let Glen pass.

Glen walked to the cart and, with seemingly effortless movements, righted the hefty black pig. The officers watching gaped in astonishment.

As the young man pulled his load into town, one officer remarked with awe, "Looks tall and lean, but damn, he's strong!"

...

Business this time was noticeably slower. Glen wasn't surprised. If every trip were as booming as the first two, he'd drain the town's wealth within months.

Yet, even this diminished trade brought in far more than the average commoner family earned. His attitude remained warmly enthusiastic. He soon bantered easily with a few returning customers, sharing laughs in between sales.

After seeing off another customer, Glen heard a familiar voice call out.

"Mr. Glen!"

Layla seemed to appear from nowhere, her hands holding her skirt hems, surprise lighting up her lovely face.

"Miss Layla, long time no see. No school today?" Glen wiped his bloody hands on a rag, smiling.

"No," Layla beamed, her eyes crinkling. "My friends wanted to go downtown, and they dragged me along. I'm just keeping them company." She looked at the butcher's block and gasped, "Are you selling meat? That's quite a lucrative business!"

"Plenty of animals near the town where I live," Glen explained. "Convenient to hunt and sell."

"That's really splendid," Layla praised sincerely. Then, a hint of concern flashed across her face. "Am I... bothering your business?"

Seeing the girl's flustered expression, Glen found it amusing. He waved a dismissive hand. "It's fine, doesn't affect things much at all. Please relax."

Just as they were about to speak further, another voice sounded from behind Layla.

"Layla, is this gentleman a friend of yours?"

The speaker was a slightly plump, red-haired boy. He approached with two other boys and a girl in tow.

"These are my classmates and friends: Polk, Meyer, Dyamela, and Pernas," Layla introduced quickly upon their arrival.

She then turned to her friends. "Everyone, this is Mr. Glen. A very kind gentleman."

"Good day, Mr. Glen," the three boys greeted politely.

Only the golden-haired girl named Pernas kept a hand covering her nose and mouth, her gaze fixed pointedly away from Glen's stall. She maintained a distinct distance.

Glen nodded in acknowledgment, his gaze lingering meaningfully on the blonde girl for a moment, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips.

Layla flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Mr. Glen. Pernas has... rather peculiar manners sometimes. Please don't take offense."

Glen was about to express his indifference, but Layla had already walked over to her friend. She tugged Pernas's sleeve, pulling her aside a few paces. Her voice dropped to a low, urgent whisper. "Pernas! This is incredibly rude! Apologize to Mr. Glen at once!"

Pernas, however, turned the admonishment back on Layla. "Layla, my dear friend," she urged, her voice muffled slightly by her hand, "how can you associate with someone like this? Look at him! Filthy all over. And that disgusting stench of blood? It's nauseating! Let's just go. Ignore him."

Layla stared, stunned. She couldn't believe the words coming from her friend's mouth. Pernas was noble-born, but she had always been gracious to Layla and their circle. Layla had thought her different from other haughty noble young ladies. Now, it seemed...

Layla's face flushed crimson with anger. Pernas's disdainful words were utterly unacceptable.

Though standing farther away, Glen's enhanced hearing captured the entire exchange.

Seeing the fragile boat of their friendship threatening to capsize, he called out, interrupting the tense whispers.

"Layla," he asked casually, "where's that food-loving girl? Didn't she come with you today?"

Layla had been on the verge of confronting Pernas directly. Glen's unexpected question made her swallow her fury. She shot her erstwhile friend a glare that promised a later reckoning, then turned and hurried back to Glen's stall. Pernas was left looking momentarily bewildered by Layla's sudden retreat.

Throughout this, the three boys stood awkwardly, completely baffled by the girls' silent exchange and abrupt movements.

"Mr. Glen," Layla began earnestly as she reached him, "I must apologize again on Pernas's behalf. She's... not normally like this."

Layla started to bow, but Glen gently stopped her.

"Enough," he said, a hint of fond exasperation in his voice. "Your mother raised you far too well-mannered. Always so formal. I'm hardly going to bear a grudge against a little girl."

Whether it was respect for her rescuer or some other reason, Layla always felt compelled to maintain politeness and decorum around Glen.

Held by his arm, Layla felt a wave of shyness. "I truly am very sorry," she murmured.

Not far off, Pernas, who had resumed her pose of covering her nose and mouth while looking away, stiffened noticeably when she heard Glen call her a "little girl." Her head whipped around, indignation flashing in her eyes. She seemed about to retort but visibly clamped down on the impulse, pressing her lips tightly together.

Glen noted the blonde girl's reaction but simply smiled inwardly.

He turned his attention back to Layla. "First, answer my earlier question. Why isn't that Bonnie girl with you?"

A shadow of worry crossed Layla's face. She hesitated before answering. "Bonnie... she's feeling quite down. Didn't want to come out..."

"Is it because of your..." Glen started to say 'because of your father,' but thought better of it. He cleared his throat slightly, adjusting his tone. "Is it because of the danger you faced that day?"

"Mr. Glen, how did you know?" Layla asked, clearly surprised.

"The patrol officers came to see me. Hard not to know," Glen replied, spreading his hands slightly.

Hearing that the officers had sought Glen out, Layla grew concerned. "They didn't give you any trouble, did they?"

"No," Glen reassured her. "Just asked about what happened that day."

"Oh, good." Layla exhaled softly, her hand unconsciously touching her chest in relief.

Seeing a customer approach the stall, Glen started to serve them while continuing his conversation with Layla. "So, tell me, what's wrong with that little Bonnie? Scared stiff? Got a bad case of nerves? Still not over the shock?"

As his words hung in the air, Layla's expression shifted to one of sheer disbelief. Her voice filled with astonishment.

"Mr. Glen! That's exactly it!"