"—The Overflow was an unforeseeable disaster, and it has yet to be discovered why it occurred. According to our sources, countermeasures were implemented to ensure that such a tragedy would never happen again—"

I listened to every sorry syllable that came out of the reporter's lips and echoed throughout the plaza of the 2nd District. Despite the passage of many years, there were still those who mourned what had occurred. She was dressed entirely in black, and most of her babblings focused on how more precautions should have been taken and that such an incident would never happen again, trying to gather the audience's sympathy.

As I watched all of that, I felt myself growing somewhat indifferent. It wasn't as if her apologies meant anything. Nothing she said could change the past. That was impossible to achieve even for hunters and their extraordinary abilities.

I threw my arm over the bench I was sitting on. The entire plaza was crammed with sheep, all concentrated on whatever gibberish was being shown on the massive display engraved on a tall building in the center. As inspiration flashed across their faces, I could only feel vomit rushing up my throat.

Those in the 2nd District had no idea how bad things had gotten, so seeing them swallow whatever crumbs of information they were offered on a silver platter was sickening.

"What a load of nonsense," grumbled a man as he sat down near me on the bench.

Others might find his stature daunting, especially with that axe in his thick, rough hand. The weapon was draped with some cloth, adhering to the conditions established for active combatants. As a result, no one raised any concerns regarding its presence. If they did, simply revealing the mercenary license would be enough to settle the matter without causing too much of a fuss.

"It seems you've arrived earlier than expected," a gruff slipped from his throat as his lips curved upward. "You brat."

"Stop smiling like that," I told him, not at all intimidated. "And what's the deal with the beard? Makes you look creepy..."

With a large axe in his hand and a thick beard covering his face, Logan resembled a true barbarian.

"I'd rather look like a lumberjack. That way, in case we come across any other scavengers, we can deal with them without too much of a fuss," he replied. "Can you take that huge-as-hell backpack a little bit further? My beauty—the axe—doesn't have enough space to rest comfortably."

"Don't blame it on the backpack..." I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Also, how did you sneak that axe past Ava?"

If she saw him leave with that axe in his hand, she'd know something wasn't right. Perhaps she's already aware of our plans... Did he screw up already?

"Calm down," he mumbled as he set the axe down on the bench. "I just finished a shift at the club and asked for a few days off and headed right here."

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"That still doesn't explain why you have your 'beauty' with you—"

"Let me finish!" Logan yelped. "I can't feel at ease unless I have the axe with me. That's why I carry it whenever I have the chance. It's not as if I'm doing something illegal by having it, and if the authorities have the audacity to interrogate me, I can simply flash the license and be on my merry way."

"Really?"

"Yes," he growled. "Get a little further away from me now. Even the dentist doesn't sit this close..."

"This bench isn't enough for the two of us," I spat out. "Just move to a different bench. You're way too big."

Logan chuckled. "It's not my fault that I have a huge frame."

Listening to him without another complaint, I placed the backpack beside my foot, reasoning that I couldn't truly judge him based on his size. That was completely outside of his control, but there was still something else I could mock him for.

"Would you mind explaining why you're treating that weapon like your own child instead of having a real one?" I probed, eyeing the axe cutting between us.

Ava and Logan were both entering their thirties. I was perplexed as to why he didn't simply progress to the next level of his relationship.

"You think I haven't considered that Gray?" the barbarian asked as he scratched his brown beard. "If Ava gets pregnant, she will be... out of commission for a while. I suppose we don't have the financial flexibility just now..."

"So you do intend to have one in the future."

If Ava is forced to take a break for an extended period and Logan focuses on the store, it wasn't difficult to imagine the overall income will suffer significantly. For his peace of mind, Logan probably wanted to save a little more before making any decisions, just in case something bad happened further down the line.

He coughed rather loudly and asked: "What about you, Gray? You were totally out of it just now. What were you thinking about?"

"I was wondering if Ava would really let you go this time."

A shadow fell over me. I could have avoided what was coming but chose not to. I knew that if I did, another powerful hit might follow. Not only that, but it had no intention of causing me any genuine harm.

Logan's palm struck the back of my skull. I was able to see his hand a little better as he drew it back. There were numerous black spots on his knuckles, indicating that he'd either been hitting people or had been regularly practicing since our last meeting. He truly was a mercenary.

"What was that for..." I inquired, rubbing my head. "Was it really necessary to slap me?"

"No, it wasn't," Logan responded with a grin. "I did it because I wanted to."

"Are you serious?"

"Without a doubt. You should expect stupid replies if you ask stupid questions. And don't worry about Ava; we'll work something out."

I grabbed the backpack from the ground and provoked him: "Then what are we waiting for?"

"D-do we really have to go now?" he stuttered. "Can we just chat for a bit longer? Look, that reporter's still talking about something—"

"You're not terrified of monsters," I said. "But are afraid of your wife?"

The reason I could say that with confidence was because I had seen him in action.

"You can't possibly understand, Gray!" Logan stared at the ground, his face expressionless. "Her wrath is not to be taken lightly."

"Aren't you just exaggerating—"

"I'm not," he stated flatly. "She's a lot scarier than any of those monsters."

"Why?"

"Because I can either kill them or get killed," Logan explained, taking a big breath. "However, if I have just one dispute with my wife, I'm going to sleep on the couch for the rest of the night."

Considering the ruckus heard I heard in the background just the other night, there was a good chance that might happen...

"Enough of this terrifying subject," murmured Logan as he rose from the bench. "We have to pack, right? Ava will be irritated if you are late for work without an excuse."

He was mostly right, but—

"You're just too afraid to face her alone."

Logan then furrowed his brow. Others may find it worrying, but it was just humorous in my eyes. "You're far too clever for your own good..."

I took that as a compliment.