One had to admit, the wisdom of the elderly was sometimes incredibly helpful.
Old Yor clearly didn’t understand the economic principles behind attracting customers, but he still relied on his years of experience to casually offer the best possible advice—
a relatively permanent, easy-to-find place of business.
"So are we going deep into the forest today?"
A few minutes later, after leaving the general store, Furen asked with an excited look on his face, "To scout for a location?"
"No, we’ll go tomorrow. We need to make some preparations today."
Lu Wei thought for a moment before shaking his head.
He had originally planned to set up his stall at the Tree of Origin again today, but after Old Yor’s "guidance," he had changed his plans.
The old man was right. If he wanted his business to grow and thrive, he needed a permanent "shop" that was convenient, conspicuous, and safe.
A place like that wouldn’t be easy to find; one day certainly wouldn’t be enough time.
And if they were going to spend the night in the forest, they had to make the necessary preparations in advance.
It would also give him more time to investigate the Thief who stole Furen’s money pouch.
"Let’s go. We’ll head to the tavern first and see if Clara has any news."
Having made up his mind, Lu Wei started walking toward the Adventurer’s Tavern.
"Oh, okay."
Furen, carrying the backpack full of goods, hurried to catch up. With a pained expression, he asked again, "But are we really not going to eat breakfast?"
Lu Wei’s expression turned stern. "I’ve already told you, enduring hunger is a required lesson for wilderness survival!"
"..."
’He’s not wrong, but is it really necessary to practice this sort of thing?’
Rubbing his empty stomach, Furen finally gave up. He resentfully shut his mouth and swore an oath in his heart—
’Damn that Thief!’
’You’d better hope you’ve already escaped!’
’Because if I catch you, I will show no mercy!’
...
...
「Adventurer’s Tavern.」
Before the morning sun had fully dispelled the mist, the back door of the tavern was already open.
Clara rolled up her sleeves and wheeled the empty kegs out of the tavern, stacking them against the stone wall by the door. She then picked up a broom from the corner and began sweeping up peanut shells, food scraps, and some strange-looking hair from the floor.
Though she was a bartender, she also served as a general laborer and dishwasher, and sometimes even had to fill in as a temporary cook.
The situation of "doing several jobs for one person’s pay" was not uncommon in the Otherworld. In an extremely competitive labor market, just having a stable job was a feat in itself. One really couldn’t ask for too much.
"If you won’t do it, there are plenty of people, Half-Beastmen, Dwarves, and Gnomes who will!"
That was what employers most often said.
And it was precisely for this reason that people, one after another, embarked on the adventurer’s path.
The young people, in particular, would see the town’s Adventurers frequenting taverns and brothels, spending money like water. It was impossible not to feel a sense of longing, to mistakenly believe that making money in this line of work was easy.
They failed to realize this was a classic case of survivorship bias.
After all, they would never see the ones who died in the forest.
Fortunately, Clara was more rational.
Perhaps because she worked at the tavern, she was keenly aware of the dangers of adventuring. The thought ’I should go risk it all, too’ had never crossed her mind.
The job was exhausting and the pay was mediocre, but she was content with the occasional tips and extra income.
’That should do it.’
’While things are slow this morning, I need to hurry and find someone to write up a few quest requests.’
’This is a big opportunity. If I can really catch that Thief, I’ll have enough money to buy a cow.’
’Then I can rent it out, collect payment every month, and once I save up enough, I’ll buy a second one...’
By the time the sun had fully risen above the horizon, golden light was filtering through the glass window on the front door, illuminating the freshly wiped bar. The tavern’s interior was now spotless.
Clara took off her coarse cloth apron, gave her hands a quick wash, and hurried out the door.
The previous night, Lu Wei had asked for her help in tracking down the Thief, promising her five Silver Coins as a reward if the person was caught.
This was no small sum, so Clara decided to go to the Central Plaza to post a quest.
Quests for information were common—finding people, objects, lost pets, or runaway slaves. Most people would instinctively keep an eye out after seeing one.
After all, if they got lucky, they might just earn an unexpected windfall.
And with so many Adventurers in Heitai Town, as long as the Thief hadn’t left, they would almost certainly be discovered soon.
’I’ll set the reward at 1 Silver Coin. That way, I can still make four Silver Coins for myself.’
’If he isn’t found, I’ll only lose the fee for having the quest notice written.’
’Maybe I should put off buying the cow. I should probably learn to write first...’
Mulling over the idea of learning to write, Clara locked the tavern’s back door and strode through the sewage-filled back alley, planning to head to the town post office to have someone write the quest notice.
However, before she could even leave the alley, a familiar figure appeared up ahead.
A gray robe, small and thin, wearing a hood...
He had delivered himself right to her doorstep!
Clara’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe the Thief would be audacious enough to "revisit the scene of the crime" so brazenly!
But now was clearly not the time to be thinking about that.
A moment later, she snapped back to her senses, immediately grabbing a Wooden Stick from nearby. Her eyes locked on the thin figure as she cautiously inched closer.
Based on the difference in their sizes, Clara didn’t think he would be any match for her, so she wasn’t worried about being in danger.
She was just a little afraid of getting the wrong person.
After all, it had been very dark last night, and she wasn’t entirely sure she had gotten a clear look.
Besides, this kind of attire wasn’t exclusive to thieves.
’If I really do beat up the wrong person, Lu Wei definitely won’t be reimbursing me for any medical bills...’
’Come on, just take a few steps!’
Biting her lip, Clara grew more and more anxious as the distance between them closed.
Whether he sensed her "plea" or it was just a coincidence, the boy actually took two steps forward, poked his head out of the alley’s entrance, and glanced toward the front of the tavern.
’That’s him!!!’
Seeing the way he walked, Clara immediately confirmed his identity.
At that same moment, however, her left foot accidentally landed in a puddle of sewage.
SPLASH—
The splash wasn’t particularly loud.
But the boy a few meters away whipped his head around. Upon seeing Clara, his eyes instantly filled with panic.
Then, without a second glance, he turned and ran.
"Stop! Thief!"
Alarmed, Clara gave chase, shouting at the top of her lungs to attract the help of any passersby.
After all, she figured that if he dared to work in this trade, he must have some skill.
His physique might not be much, but he could be exceptionally fast for all she knew.
But who would have known? The boy wasn’t nearly as fast as she’d imagined. He hadn’t even made it to the tavern entrance before she caught up to him.
’Why is he so slow...’
With five Silver Coins on the line, Clara had no time for questions. She immediately raised the Wooden Stick and brought it down hard on the back of his head.
THWACK!
With a dull thud, the boy didn’t last a second before he was knocked unconscious, his whole body collapsing heavily to the ground with a THUMP.
HUFF... HUFF...
Clara bent over, panting, and prodded the boy’s body with the Wooden Stick.
Once she confirmed that he was indeed knocked out, she tossed the stick aside, squatted down, and began to search him.
About half a minute passed.
"Found it!"
Pulling a money pouch from the boy’s chest, a look of delight crossed Clara’s face. She finally let out a sigh of relief.
But a moment later, she froze.
Her gaze fell on the boy’s filthy collar. After a moment, she reached out, pulled the collar open, and revealed a deep brown, ugly scar.
Or rather, a brand.
The scar was so twisted and deformed that its original shape was no longer recognizable.
But one thing was undeniable—
"He’s a slave..."