"This rifle has a three-bullet slot, perfect for hunting without the need to reload after each shot. Look at this scope; you'll be able to see clearly within a radius of several kilometers," I explained a rifle to the young man who was now peering through the scope with one eye. He then aimed the muzzle of the rifle at me, reflexively causing me to step back in surprise."That's dangerous, lad. It seems you've never handled a rifle before," I asked. The young man bowed his head in embarrassment."Yes, usually I only hunt in the forest near my house, and there are only wild chickens there," he muttered."In that case, how about this set of bow and arrows? It's made of high-quality wood, not easily breakable, and comfortable to hold, minimizing the chance of missing shots!" I then presented the weapon. The young man held it in awe, pulling the bowstring and nodding in approval."I'll take this one!" He then handed over a silver coin and left with his new bow and arrows slung behind his
Celine is a clever girl. For three days, I've been guiding her in reading and writing, and now she can recognize letters!"Joe, look at this!" She smiled as she handed me a piece of paper with chicken scratch writing forming her own name, C-e-l-i-n-e. I clapped my hands with a warm heart; this was what it felt like to be a teacher when your student shows progress."You're so smart! I'm proud of you!" I exclaimed joyfully.Tonight, it seemed Celine was overjoyed because she kept smiling. She repeatedly examined her own writing with bright, sparkling eyes as if she couldn't believe she had written it."How would you write your name?" she asked. I then taught her how to write my name."Joe! Short and easy, right?" I said. Celine nodded as she wrote each letter.Then, because I was too engrossed in teaching her how to write, I realized it was already half-past ten at night. I glanced out the window, and Celine's house door was still tightly closed."Hasn't your mother come back yet?" I as
Cutting grass apparently requires skill and energy, as beginners like me work very slowly because there are many things I don't know. Straightening my aching back from crouching too long, my hands feel numb from holding the grass scissors. I feel like importing a grass cutting machine from my world so I don't have to struggle, and the results will definitely be much faster.Sweat dripping and my clothes already soaked with sweat, I gather the piles of grass to be collected in the corner, which is piled up with weeds. It's almost noon and decorations are starting to be put up and worked on, I don't understand whether Duke, whatever his name is, will sing or dance, hence needing navy-colored decorations with furniture glittering. Considering this is Lord Crys, I'm sure the furniture is made of gold, as evidenced by his servants wearing gloves to display it.I scan around to find Celine, but she's nowhere to be seen. However, three baskets of fresh flowers are then delivered to the back
"Healer!" Mr. Gunter shouted as he carried Celine to a gloomy and gray-toned house. The yard was covered with fallen leaves as if it had never been swept. Vines crawled on the wall, and the garden looked like a jungle with lush green plants."Hey, healer! Are you home?" Mr. Gunter called again. Celine's condition was still the same, thankfully the healer's house wasn't too far, although it was quite secluded within the alley. Impatiently, I knocked repeatedly on the wooden door.My action yielded results when an old, hunched man with white hair and beard opened the door, his small eyes staring at us as if he had just woken up."This child is poisoned!" Mr. Gunter entered the healer's house before the man could speak.Celine was laid on a thin mattress; the room smelled of pungent medicines. I didn't like the smell of hospitals, especially since I often got injured in Swinggelir, but here, it was even more intense as if someone was concocting something.The healer quickly approached Ce
They say, a man who hits a woman is a coward and a scoundrel. But would you agree if I slapped a mother like Anne just once, who has been extremely unreasonable with her child?I was almost about to deliver that slap if I hadn't caught a glimpse of Celine's shadow on Anne's face. I released my grip on her shirt until she bumped into the door.My anger still boiled inside me, causing my breath to rise and fall rapidly. I could also see a few people peeking curiously into my house, quickly turning away when our eyes met. I was sure my earlier yelling had piqued their curiosity."Hah, so you have manners too?" Anne said arrogantly.I looked at her sharply. "Don't talk to me about manners, you even hit her often. You should be ashamed of yourself," I replied emphatically."Don't expect me to thank you for saving her!" she exclaimed, pointing to Celine, who fortunately was still sound asleep."Oh? So you knew your daughter was poisoned, yet you pretended not to know on the street earlier?
"Are you feeling better? Have this, I made it specially for you. It's also a gift from Lord Crys." I served corn soup with super quality whole wheat bread that smelled delicious even from afar. The food ingredients for the rich and the poor indeed different, even though we lived in the same neighborhood.Celine smiled at me as she spooned the soup, her face still pale but showing no signs of discomfort or anything else. She could even eat without feeling nauseous. It had been over 30 minutes since she woke up, and now it was nearing midnight.Celine then looked at me and bowed gracefully. "Thank you for taking care of me, Mr. Joe. I'm sorry for causing you trouble," she said softly."Not at all, you're not causing any trouble. I'm just glad you're safe," I replied sincerely.She then glanced out the window, towards her dark and tightly closed home. There was a hint of disappointment in her expression, perhaps because she didn't find her mother there. However, I felt relieved that she
"Ow, lanterns! Be careful, Joe, that bench is already wobbly. Secure it tightly or it will fall and burn down this stall," Mr. Gunter warned me as I stood on the unsteady three-legged bench. Only one day left until the party, and now the townsfolk were decorating their homes and streets with red and gold lanterns.I climbed down from the bench and admired my handiwork hanging above Mr. Gunter's stall. Other stalls looked just the same, with some even adding mini Elf ornaments in front of them. It felt like a festival, especially since it had been 20 years since the last one, no wonder everyone was so enthusiastic.Horse-drawn carriages bustled back and forth carrying passengers laden with many purchases. It seemed like almost everyone in the village was out on the streets as every stall was crowded with buyers.Beyond all that, Lord Crys's mansion glowed from afar with various lanterns and petromax lamps, creating a festive atmosphere. I had finished my grass-cutting job today, and th
"Why are you so late, lad? Do you want the whip or the sword?" Mr. Gunter was serving a customer, a frail young man with unfocused eyes inspecting the weapons.He replied awkwardly, "Just the whip," and then left after paying. I became worried that he might stumble and accidentally lash himself with the whip."My earnings have increased drastically because of the upcoming festival!" exclaimed Mr. Gunter, pocketing the silver coins."Congratulations, Mr. Gunter!" I sincerely congratulated him while arranging the daggers. It was now past noon, and the market was starting to quiet down; many stalls had closed. Perhaps people were getting ready for tonight's party."Don't you want something, Joe? A bow and arrow or anything, since you've been helping me a lot lately," Mr. Gunter offered, showing each of the latest weapons.I quickly declined, as I didn't see any potential events requiring me to use weapons. My daily routine revolved around working at his stall from morning till night, goi