Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest - C.523 117.5 - Second Mission

The mayor, oblivious to his daughter's reaction, nodded in agreement, seemingly relieved that I had a plan.

At least, that was how it looked like.

If not for the slight shake in his movements, once again.

Common folks were like that, especially those who were from the countryside. Many were not that proficient in hiding their expressions.

"That sounds like a wise course of action," he said.

The mayor, still recovering from the subtle slip in his demeanor, quickly masked his feelings, his expression settling back into the practiced neutrality of a man used to holding a position of authority. Celia, without another word, turned on her heel and left the room, her earlier bravado now tempered by a quiet, simmering tension that I didn't miss.

Once she was gone, the mayor turned back to me, his voice carefully controlled. "So, Mr. Natusalune, what do you plan to do next?"

I considered his question for a moment, allowing a thoughtful expression to cross my face. "I'll start by asking some questions around town, getting a better sense of the situation from the locals. After that, I'll take another tour around the fields and the town's perimeter, just to make sure there aren't any signs we might have missed—anything that could indicate a larger issue, like a dungeon or a monster infestation."

The mayor's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of concern passing through his eyes. "A dungeon? You think there could be one appearing here?"

I shook my head, maintaining a calm, reassuring tone. "I didn't see any traces of a dungeon during my initial assessment. But it's always better to be thorough. There's a possibility that I might have missed something, so I want to double-check. Dungeons are unpredictable, and it's better to be cautious."

'Well, that is a lie.' Inwardly, I was confident that no dungeon had appeared in Shange Town. I had been trained to detect such anomalies, and the town didn't show any of the usual signs.

But I kept my thoughts to myself, playing the part of the diligent investigator. My words were simply a part of the act, meant to keep the mayor and the townsfolk at ease while I continued to piece together the real mystery.

The mayor nodded, clearly reassured by my apparent thoroughness. "I see. Yes, it's best to be careful. The last thing we need is a dungeon causing even more trouble on top of everything else."

"Exactly," I agreed, giving him a brief nod. "I'll report back to you once I've completed my survey of the area."

With that, I took my leave, stepping out into the bright afternoon light that bathed the town in a deceptively peaceful glow. The tension from the mayor's office lingered in the air, but I set it aside for now, focusing on the task at hand.

As I walked through the town, I kept my senses sharp, scanning for anything unusual—anything that might have slipped under the radar during my previous investigation.

The fields were still as barren as before, the lifeless soil a stark contrast to the vibrant greenery that should have been there. But I detected no signs of monsters or any energy fluctuations that would suggest the presence of a dungeon.

As I wandered through the town, I approached the locals with a casual demeanor, asking seemingly innocuous questions to ease into the conversations. The town was small, and the people here were naturally cautious around outsiders, especially one who had only been in town for a few hours.

Their guarded expressions and polite but distant responses made it clear that they weren't ready to open up about anything serious just yet.

I started with simple inquiries, asking about the town's history, the usual state of the fields, and how they had been coping with the recent troubles.

The responses were typical—small talk about the weather, the decline in crops, and the general unease that had settled over Shange Town. Nothing particularly revealing, but I was patient.

As I continued, I began to subtly guide the conversations in the direction I wanted, steering them toward the topic of Maria and her son. It was a delicate process—pushing too hard could raise suspicion, but I was practiced in the art of subtlety. I asked about old traditions, the local customs surrounding agriculture, and if anyone had noticed anything unusual in the past that might be relevant now.

At first, the responses were vague and noncommittal. People spoke of hard times, of the land changing in ways they didn't understand, and of their frustration with the mysterious blight. But as I listened, I started to pick up on the underlying currents in their words—the hints of superstition, the fear of the unknown, and the quiet resentment toward those who seemed untouched by the town's misfortune.

"Maria's field is the only one still thriving, isn't it?" I commented offhandedly to an older man tending to his shop, my tone casual as I examined a small trinket on display.

The man hesitated, glancing around as if to ensure no one else was listening. "Aye, it is," he replied, his voice lowering slightly. "Strange, that. No one knows why, but folks have their suspicions."

"Suspicions?" I echoed, feigning mild curiosity. "What kind of suspicions?"

He shrugged, a cautious look in his eyes. "People talk, you know? Say maybe she's got some kind of secret, something that's keeping her land safe. Others think it's just plain luck. But… well, there's always been something a bit different about her and that boy."

"Different, how?" I asked, keeping my tone light as I pocketed the trinket I had been examining.

"Can't say for sure," the man muttered, avoiding my gaze. "Just… they keep to themselves, always have. And now, with everything going wrong, folks are starting to wonder if they've got something to do with it. Not that I'm saying I believe it, mind you," he added quickly as if regretting his words.

I nodded, letting the subject drop as I thanked him for his time and moved on. The man's reluctance to speak more openly was telling—there was clearly a stigma attached to Maria and her son, one that had only grown with the town's recent troubles.

But at the same time, there was something more to that.

'They were talking as if this was not the case before.'

From the way they were addressed, Maria and his son, whose name I learned was Richard, it seemed like they were close with the townsfolk before.

That made me understand that, at some point, things changed.

'Something must have happened.' And that something was also related to the mayor and his daughter.

At the very least, they knew something about it.

After speaking with several more townsfolk, I noticed a pattern beginning to emerge. The answers I received were becoming increasingly redundant, offering little new information beyond what I had already gathered. The town was small, and rumors traveled quickly.

It was clear that the community shared a collective unease about Maria and her son, but they were hesitant to say much more, likely out of a mix of fear and uncertainty.

By the time the evening sun cast long shadows across the streets, I decided it was time to wrap up my questioning for the day. There was only so much to be gleaned from casual conversation, and I had already pushed the limits of what the townsfolk were willing to share.

As the sky deepened to a dusky purple, I took a detour, walking the perimeter of the town and observing everything around me with a careful eye. My [Eyes] allowed me to see beyond the physical structures, revealing the intricate flows of mana and the hidden details that others would overlook.

I walked past homes where women were busy with housework, their movements efficient and practiced. The scent of evening meals wafted through open windows, mingling with the sound of children reading and doing their homework, their youthful voices murmuring through the walls.

In one house, I saw a woman carefully folding laundry; her brow furrowed in concentration as she worked by the fading light. In another, a man sat at a small desk, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he helped his daughter with her schoolwork. The scene was almost picturesque, a moment of quiet domesticity that belied the tension I knew lay beneath the surface of this town.

I continued my walk, my gaze drifting over the rooftops and through the streets.

As I moved further along, my [Eyes] picked up something unexpected—a faint glow of mana emanating from within one of the houses. It wasn't particularly strong, but it was enough to catch my attention. I shifted my focus, peering through the walls to see what was inside.

In one of the bedrooms, a couple was engaged in an intimate act, completely oblivious to the world around them. The mana glow wasn't coming from them directly but seemed to be lingering in the air as if something had been recently activated or disturbed. It was a curious detail, one that didn't fit with the otherwise mundane scene.

I didn't linger, quickly moving on to avoid intruding on their privacy any further.

'Hmm….' But at the same time, something had alerted me. freёwebnoѵel.com

'That…..'

It was the fact that someone's intimate act triggered something.

'And it was not a normal mana.'

The mana looked different.

'Similar to Sylvie's but at the same time a completely opposite one.'

Something that I had been encountering for the first time. I had never seen something like that before, even with [Perceptive Insight].

'What could it be?'

As I neared the outskirts of the town, my attention was drawn to the ground just ahead of me. There, almost hidden in the fading light, was a series of footprints.

They were shallow and faint, easy to overlook if one wasn't paying close attention.

I crouched down, examining them more closely. The prints were well-formed, suggesting that the person who made them had passed through recently.

I could tell by the depth and the spacing of the steps that the individual was relatively young and not particularly heavy. The impressions left behind by the boots were distinct enough to indicate that they belonged to a male.

'Three days, give or take,' I estimated, running my fingers lightly over the earth.

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The soil had dried since the last time it rained, and the prints had weathered slightly, but they were still clear enough to analyze.

But what intrigued me most was the frequency of these prints. The path was well-worn, suggesting that whoever had made these tracks used this route regularly. It wasn't just a one-time occurrence—this person had a reason to walk this way, and they did so often.

'What's out here that's worth visiting so frequently?'

I rose to my feet, my eyes following the trail as it led away from the town and into the underbrush. The direction was odd, too—it didn't lead to any of the main roads or paths that I had noticed during my initial survey of the area. This was a more hidden route or more of a shunned.

The footprints, though faint, guided me deeper into the outskirts, where the town's lights grew dimmer and the air grew cooler. The path twisted and turned, leading me through a sparse thicket of trees and underbrush that seemed to close in around me as I ventured further.

'The forest is getting thicker, huh?' The footprints were becoming harder to follow now, the ground less cooperative as the terrain grew rougher. But I could still make out the faint impressions, guiding me like a breadcrumb trail through the shadows.

Finally, the trail led me to a small clearing, hidden away from the main town and surrounded by a dense thicket of trees. The clearing itself was unremarkable at first glance, but as I stepped closer, I noticed something that made me pause.

In the center of the clearing was a small, unassuming structure—little more than a shed, really.