Han found himself inside the saloon, a mug of ice cold beer in front of him along with a warbled tune playing in the background. One moment he was at the village's entrance and then the next thing he knew, he was seated in one of the wooden crates as people gathered in the parlor and over him.
"You were a sight, grabbing a beer bottle like a drunkard and challenging all those Gargoyles by yourself? Mad lad!" The Lumberjack clapped his back and laughed, the man sipping from his tankard. "Truly amazing!"
Tom was sitting on his table, a mug in his own hand—filled with milk. "I could have done the same thing, chucking bottles and dynamites?"
"Well, you trusted my decision that time when I asked for your help, so I owe you one." Han relented with a nod. "In a way, you also saved the village."
The boy seemed satisfied, drank his milk and poured from the available pitcher. "Yeah, everybody thought you were insane, but I knew you had a plan."
"Please boy, speak for yourself. I knew Han here was a special man when he was a wee lad like ya." Grandma Moe plopped down in front of him. "I thought we could only see fools in the capital, but even a peaceful place like this gets a few lunatics like you."
Han laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "You guys praise me too much, Becky held out on her own at the farm and Old Man Joe Light could have blitzed through all those Gargoyles if I hadn't been in the way."
The old lady shook her head, "Ah, yes. That old fool."
Her voice was somber and low. Now that Han thought about it, he could see almost everybody but he couldn't see the Old Man. "...Um, he's fine right?" Don't let him die. Don't let him die. Not after Betsy.
"That old bugger is as fit as a horse. He's stuck at his house with a broken back, but he'll be back in no time." Grandma Moe snorted and flicked a wrist at him, sipping from a tankard of her own.
Alas, Han couldn't help but wince, it was his fault that the old man got injured. Or perhaps it was the Creators fault, he could feel that there was supposed to be a plot underlying the series of events around them. A storyline that games followed… or it could be that Demon Lord's fault, they were the one who sent the Gargoyles after all.
"I suppose you did very well for an orphan." Sniffed the man who yelled out about seeing him as a ghost earlier. "I guess having you around was good."
Plot indeed. Han Jing took it in. Han was an orphan. Now that was something he'd like to read about in his system. What happened before he arrived here, was it all randomly generated? All the feelings and thoughts of the people here?
Lumberman Jack tsked as he dropped his tankard on the table, "Ignore that guy, he's a bit bitter."
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"Er, I think he lost someone." Grandma Moe sighed a bit.
Someone cleared their throat.
"Ahem, I don't want to blabber too much but I want us to raise our glasses. To the person who outsmarted the Gargoyles by using their head and beers! To Han!" A red-faced Becky was standing on the countertop, her mug raised high. The people cheered and raised their mugs with her. "For saving the village, cheers!"
Han drank his mug in one go, staring at the female in the distance. She must have been a bit drunk or something, drinking her grief away. He didn't know what to feel about that. Or rather, it seemed too real. And here he thought that this game was a General rating for kids, it actually had more depth than he thought.
He cleared his throat, "Ahem, thank you for the time. But I think I'll be checking up on Old Man Joe. If everyone's here, he must be feeling rather lonely."
"Go ahead, son. We'll be relaxing here for a bit." Grandma Moe nodded.
He slipped out of the saloon before anybody could protest.
Han walked up to one of the less wrecked homes, and he knocked on the door for a bit. He heard a cough and he quickly went in. "Old Man—"
"Ah, so you came to visit me! Did ya bring me anything?" Old Man Joe Light laughed while stuck in the bed. His house was much larger than Han's but it seemed to be devoid of material things like him. All it had was a bed, a couple of chairs and table and his own closet. "Excuse the place, I know it's no place for a hero like yourself."
"Uhh…" He probably should have brought something. Would he have received a special in-game item if he did? Should he try this again? The old man didn't even need to flatter him, all he did was jump over a cliff. That wasn't heroic at all.
"Don't look so down, I heard that you saved the village." The old man chuckled and propped himself up the bed. "Tell me about what happened to you, boy."
It was a little hard to watch the man get up to watch him, especially because he pulled off his blankets to reveal a bandaged torso. "Are you okay?" His spine should have gotten broken
"Pfft… don't worry too much about me lad. What you should be worrying about is yourself."
"Huh?" Han frowned.
"When I was a lad like you, I lost my own village to horrible monsters like those Gargoyles. I hadn't been strong enough to save them back then… but you? You managed to do it. I have no idea how, but you managed to do it." A small smile played on the man's lips, his eyes twinkling. "You have a bright future ahead of you, but it also means that several individuals will be keeping their eyes on you."
Han stared at the old man, for a moment it felt more than just a backstory dialogue. It was a cautionary tale that held a ring of truth. "I guess that leaves me no choice then."
"Hmm? What do you have in mind?"
"If they'll be watching me—the only thing I can do is stand equally among them or rise above them even." He clenched his fists together. "I'll prove myself a worthy opponent! They'll have no choice but to think twice!"
Another laugh erupted from the old man. "Ah, youth! I miss my younger days. But if you're that eager to improve, I'll do my best to help you."
"Help me?" Han raised a brow. "Gargoyles are one thing, but your back—"
"Ah, before you judge me. Would you mind telling this old fool what's your [ Class ] and [ Level ]?"
The NPCs knew about classes and levels—that means they also had it. But he couldn't help but feel nervous about revealing it carelessly. If a Demon Lord could pinpoint his exact location, then it also made sense that they or someone else could be privy to their conversation. "Um… I'm a bit worried about somebody eavesdropping."
"Hohoho! Already encountering interested individuals I see." The man rubbed his beard. "Well, if that's the case, I may have a solution for that—[ Light: Ward ]"
A bright radiance emerged inside the room, bathing everything in its brilliant lights.
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Notification: Demon Lord Your [ Predator's Mark ] has been dispelled.