“Wiwi!?” Suddenly a childish voice interrupted them as the tiny figure from earlier poked its head from the pile of random trinkets once more.
“Oh, it seems little egg is getting hungry.” Old Wugou’s face contorted into a wide smile, he went to fetch a weirdly shaped rock and held it out towards the tiny person.
Like a cat spotting a treat the little figure pounced, licking the rock furiously.
Ilven carefully watched her tiny figure filled with energy.
“Easy now….no one is going to steal your food. Sigh… She’s getting too pretty, I don’t know what’s in this rock that only she can digest but she’s gotten even chubbier and cuter, even being so small won’t spare her from traffickers and those beasts in human skin so I disguised her and made her look like a tiny dusty cat huhu, how adorable.” He patted the big-eyed little girl on the head, looking at her lovingly as if it was his own granddaughter.
The trafficking industry was very prosperous in Gray Haven, so it was very dangerous for good looking children.
“Oh.” Ilven said disinterestedly.
Old Wugou let out a deep sigh seeing his reaction, “I know you don’t like useless persons but she’s just a child. I think of her the same as you, you should be kinder to her, she’s not very bright.”
Indeed seen from her name, Stupid Egg was very dumb.
Children in Gray Haven grew up quickly, at the age of three most would be quite sensible, yet Stupid Egg still had the mind and behavior of a baby, even then unlike ancient times at a just few months most babies were already quite developed in the current era.
Ilven calmly retorted, “Old man don’t act like she’s not suspicious, she hasn’t grown at all despite being with us for four years, she doesn’t eat or drink just licks that stone and can run around normally, we also found her in the stomach of beast, a superior black iron grade Earthbound Bear at that, those things eat any and every thing, their digestive juices should have dissolved her long before we could take her out but she was completely fine. Everything about her is suspicious.”
Old Wugou’s eyes drooped a bit, but he didn’t say anything in response, he simply continued caressing the dusty little girl as if she was a precious treasure.
Be wary of the unknown: do not touch, prod, communicate, or otherwise test the depths of that which you do not know.
This was one of the scavenger creeds Old Wugou himself had taught to Ilven, he knew this little girl was strange, but he couldn’t bring himself to harden his heart and abandon her.
His only granddaughter was just her age before she was eaten… if he had been faster back then could he also have dug her out of that thing’s stomach?
Probably not.
He glanced at his weak withered hands.
“It’s about time for us to have dinner too.” Old Wugou got up seeing the little girl fall asleep curled into a ball.
He went into the kitchen and prepared a sumptuous celebratory meal: thin slices of meat, roasted insect eggs with rice, peppers and some fruits with a side of nutritious black soup.
Usually, they survived on nutrition bars but with Ilven making a windfall they had no need to be stingy with their meals.
Ilven tossed the bag of copper baht he was gifted to Old Wugou, “Here, you can go buy groceries yourself. I know you take any excuse to go to Widow Kelsie’s vegetable stall.”
Ilven had complete trust in Old Wugou and didn’t think of his money as only his. It was no exaggeration to say he wouldn’t be alive without the old man’s kindness; he also taught him everything he knew barring nothing. The debt of gratitude he owed to Old Wugou was as heavy as mountain.
In fact, the reason he left so much silver was all for his sake, he wanted to spend it all for the old man, he wouldn’t have minded spending everything on the old man, but such wealth was bound to attract trouble, and he had to prepare so he only left so much in the end using the rest to buy weapons.
Though it seems the situation was different now.
“Lies! Slander! Don’t try and throw dirt on my good name. We have a pure neighborly friendship, I never thought of her that way.” Old Wugou quickly retorted in outrage at the baseless accusation. He was not such a person!
“Every time she sees me, she says to tell you that her eyes are in her head not her chest. She also says she might consider it if you make a move like a real man.” Ilven calmly chewed his food.
To this Ilven was confused, like a man? A man provides for his family, isn’t it? Although the old man was not much to look at now because of his injury, a few years ago he was the best scavenger in Grey Tulip.
“Misunderstanding, it’s a misunderstanding… well she does have nice breasts.” He trailed off with the familiar image popping up in his mind.
“What’s so good about those lumps of flesh anyway, baffling.” Ilven commented while taking a sip of purified water.
“Ignorant brat, what could you know about the feminine guiles, the smooth curves and tender touches, the soft flesh and warm embrace, the bouncing busoms and deep valleys…” Old Wugou went off onto a monologue about as he often did, usually ending with worshipping breasts.
Ilven was curious about women once, but ever since he saw a team of scavengers be suspiciously annihilated in the wild with only the woman, who was clearly the weakest member of the team, as the lone survivor, his curiosity was quelled.
Sometime afterwards he personally witnessed a well-known competent scavenger die from poison placed in a woman’s privates, since then that budding pubescent curiosity was dragged out and killed.
Women were dangerous, just as his mother had warned.
“Ahem… it’s about time you got married to a good girl kid. Your adulthood ceremony was three years ago. I can think of a few good girls from the slums.” Old Wugou brought up the old topic.
The daughters of wealthy families would never even consider the likes of them so he never mentioned it. Poor slum girls were different though, there were some hidden gems to be found.
“I’ll pass.” Ilven looked up at the ceiling seeing it was a bit dusty.
“Fuck. Part of our jobs as humans is to pass along the torch to the next generation, do your racial duty!” Spittle escaped from the elder’s mouth as he educated the young man. He felt like he was playing music to a Flightless Bird, this kid was beyond stubborn.
“Not interested.”
Ilven brushed him off, but he didn’t know what medicine the old fellow took today, he was particularly persistent this time and didn’t shut up for over an hour.
Ilven wished to end the conversation as quickly as possible so he stood up.
“Sigh a family is the most precious thing one can have, in this cruel world it’s easy to become lost in the depths of darkness and despair, family is often the only light you can have, to enjoy the little things and truly be happy in the short time you’re on this earth, family… you lost yours when you were big enough, it’s time for you to follow in your father’s footsteps and do the same.”
Ilven’s lips twitched speechlessly, whenever it came to women the old scavenger transformed into a great philosopher.
“What use is a family when you can’t even protect them from danger? You’ll just lose them all anyways.” Ilven retorted leaving the table.
The old man let out a deep sigh, his grey hairs seemed more withered in the dim lighting.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
This child, even after all these years, it was hard to fix what was broken.
“Don’t go out these next few days.” Old Wugou called out to his departing back.
“Didn’t plan on it. Why?” Ilven halted at his bedroom door.
“Galdor isn’t a second-generation rich kid. Yet he can afford to replace his arm with a mechanical construct and get gene potions for both himself and comrades, you ever wonder why that is?” Old Wugou queried chewing on some leaves.
“He has a backer?” Ilven asked realizing the problem.
“Yes, his sister is a concubine of Smith from Seven Sons Wilderness Hunters, the deputy leader.”
That was a problem indeed. The Seven Sons were the only wilderness hunters within Grey Tulip.
“Fortunately, the Crimson Night is closing in so everyone should be on their best behavior, I’ll go ask some old friends to see if they’ve taken notice of your squabble. I’m not sure how close the siblings are, it could be nothing.” Old Wugou commented.
“You know what to do.”
After giving him a nod, Ilven swallowed one of the healing pills he bought from Reshal and then he took a long-lost nap.
The weariness had built up in his bones, the latent injuries from the intense cat and mouse with Fenri and Galdor had taken its toll on his body, the tension from the beast lords’ roars as well as meeting the top wilderness team also had affected his spirit.
Even now his legs were numb from the lingering pains as a result of being shot several times.
Every inch of his being longed for rest.
Feeling the warm embrace of his soft bed, he soon fell asleep contentedly.
***
Old Wugou sighed and lamented how quickly the boy from back then had grown up, sadly wounds to the soul were much harder to heal, perhaps even a lifetime might not be enough.
He truly hoped that Ilven could learn to be happy.
“Still, I don’t know if I should be worried, angry or happy hearing all that he has gone through these past few days. I suppose the result is always what’s important, in the end it all worked out.” The old man shook his head wryly. Even after pinching himself a few times, he found it hard to believe.
“Galdor of Steel… he should be amongst the top twelve of Grey Tulip, if that wasn’t enough that scampy sister of his climbed in bed with that kid from the Seven Sons who is number two. This could be troublesome.” Old Wugou caressed his brows.
In such a small settlement there were just a few people with hard power that stood above the rest.
Without artillery or high powered weapons there was not much the ruling class of the shelter could do towards certain people, the top combatants in the Grey Tulip settlement were a prime example of this. The Seven Sons occupied several of the top spots within the shelter including the first and second places.
For those under Beastmasters, individual power was not insurmountable. However, it just so happened that while Galdor himself should not be threat at the moment, his connections could pose a threat to Ilven.
The question was how strong was the relationship between Galdor and the Seven Sons, or more accurately Galdor and his sister?
Old Wugou wanted to prepare for the worst but first he planned to go out and gather information.
“I wonder how Widow Kelsie is doing as of late…. Huhu.” A lecherous grin leaked out from the old man’s mouth as his mind wandered.
He took a look in the bag of coppers Ilven gave him and couldn’t help but sharply inhale.
70 copper baht!
“This is more than I expected, outside of what he earned from selling those disaster beast parts this alone surpasses his usual haul. That damned kid already restocked his supplies no less.”
Thinking of the amount spent by Ilven before he even returned home, a nameless fire erupted within his old chest. That brat let greed overtake him and even bought a Roland be damned gun! Ammo! He spent more than half his earnings on the spot! Where was the spirit of thriftiness a scavenger should have!
Old Wugou almost marched into Ilven’s room to teach the kid a lesson but in the end, he got dressed and went out to do some shopping.
It was unknown what he would do if he knew that Ilven donated some coins to a random person on the street, perhaps smoke would escape from his ears.
Old Wugou quickly made a list planning to buy some things inside the main shelter before going to the slum area to chat with widow Kelsie.
Ensuring he concealed his wealth properly, he departed after tucking in Stupid Egg in her bed, although she would likely just crawl out again.
***
“Oh, Old Wugou you’re going out again? I heard someone say your kid came home a while ago?” A middle-aged woman with a barrel like figure greeted seeing Old Wugou.
“Haha grace be to the White Sun he’s back. Yes, I’m heading to the market then a stroll, got to keep these old bones moving. Your husband still at work?” With a hint of neighborly banter he conversed with Mrs. Grass.
As the saying goes, distant relatives are not as good as close neighbors.
“Yes, he managed to save up some herbs and insect corpses so I’m going to sell them in the market now since he’ll be home too late. If only the unlucky bastard didn’t move from a black farmer to a farmhand on the Flaires farm and instead worked in the factory.” She couldn’t help but sigh, despite her rough demeanor she actually loved her husband very much and appreciated his hard work.
The lives of most residents of Grey Tulips were still quite difficult with many working from dust until dawn with only a single short break for the day.
The only ones free from this daily trial were the land and business owners.
There was only room for a limited amount of business in small wisp shelters, so the first movers had an immense advantage forming their own forces centered around family ties.
Wisp shelters needed basic necessities to exist for the long term, in Grey Tulip these were in the form of the Clinic that doubled as the pharmacy controlled by the Boltons, the Blacksmith Shop owned by the Hallmares, the Carpenter Shop owned by the Flaires, and the Butcher shop owned by Old Winchester.
The three families also had shared control of the two grain processing factories in the shelter as well as 65% of the inner farmlands and 40% control of the outer farmlands.
Other residents with special skills set up shops in the market square, this was actually the shelter square outside the shelter chief’s residence.
The earning power of these market stalls naturally couldn’t compare to that of the three major families. It was quite simple really, where would they get the stream of customers needed to profit?
Even they, the residents, were penny pinchers, much less the refugees outside the walls. Scavengers emboldened the local industry somewhat but there were always destined to be fewer scavengers than sellers, furthermore the favorite wares of scavengers were flesh, alcohol and gambling, all difficult businesses to run.
“Anything happen recently?” Old William was usually the one to gather information which he later told Ilven. Ilven was not very good at fake smiles, sugarcoating or any of the finer social tools. Something the old man struggled to change but failed miserably.
“Not really, the Crimson Night is coming in three days so Luosan’s Coffin Shop should be raking in money but other than that everyone is the same. I guess my hubby will get a rare half-day so that’s good.” Mrs. Grass gave a few bags to Old Wugou to help her carry.
The three major families were not the only ones who lived leisurely lives in Grey Tulip, the relatives and owners of a few shops also shared this luxury.
Luosan from the Coffin Shop, Old Hallord’s trading store, William’s tavern and Fitch’s Chicken farm along with a few other farmland owners were the secondary ceiling within the shelter.
“Oh, I heard those unruly brats in the Seven Sons robbed Old Miller’s daughter in law right on their wedding night right inside her bridal chamber, those fucking roguish pigs! The little thing just turned twelve and had her adulthood ceremony, she was quite the little beauty. I guess word must have gotten around.” Mrs. Grass grit her teeth in hatred and waved her thick calloused hands in the air.
Seven Sons? Speak of the devil.
“Isn’t Old Miller’s nephew in the shelter militia? Didn’t they do anything?” Old Miller frowned.
“Ha. Those pig fuckers? I’ll be unscrewed into a fair maiden the day those butt sniffers lift a finger. They’ve always been the three families shit stools, they won’t risk a chance of offending the Seven Sons. I’m not sure how true it is but I heard the leader got a bit stronger or something, anyways with that happening they won’t poke their heads out for just Old Miller.” Mrs. Grass couldn’t help but spit thinking of the injustice the poor young girl went through. Her fateful night ruined by a horny jackal; the scar would last a lifetime.
Old Wugou couldn’t help but take a breath hearing the bad news.
The strength of a leader was reflected in the pack, with this happening the jackals of the Seven Sons would be proud as a peacock for sure.
What a great trouble the kid has caused for the three of them, though it couldn’t be helped.
This accursed world!
In Grey Tulip, the three families controlled the militia with most of their descendants apart of it but these soldiers who have never seen blood couldn’t be compared to the Seven Sons Wilderness Hunters although they had the numbers advantage with the Seven Sons being a very small group, both sides avoided full-on clashes as it would only hurt both of them.
It's all my fault, I hadn’t offended the Boltons in my early years then the kid wouldn’t still have to be a scavenger after buying his residency and instead find a decent job, now on the verge of escaping this quagmire he’s pitted against the Seven Sons and I can’t ask any of the three families for help.
Old Wugou felt his heart drop thinking of the implications.
Offending one family was good as offending all three, they all intermarried and maintained strict management over the shelter together swapping the position of shelter chief every five years.
“Cheer up old fella, we’ve seen this and more over the years. At least your kid has a cock, and we don’t have any of those in our shelter… unless the rumors about the third son of the Flaires are true…” Mrs. Grass attempted to comfort Old Wugou thinking he was depressed about what she said then she realized she might be making it worse and attempted to save the situation.
“Haha silver lining, silver lining. Your kid is a scavenger whose come back several times from certain death. Now only a few scavengers even in established teams can compare to him, worse case and his butt is targeted he’s just the type the three families and the rest like, if he pledges allegiance, he’ll save his butt for sure!” Mrs Grass’s large figure jiggled as she nervously fanned her hot face thinking she almost jinxed things.
Old Wugou’s eyes lit up.
Seeing this she heaved a sigh of relief. Safe.
Naturally Old Wugou wasn’t thinking about selling Ilven’s butt.
That’s it!
Things haven’t gotten to such a bad point yet, its not like he has direct conflict with the Seven Sons, an influential outsider might be able to salvage things… Old Winchester!
Old Wugou thought of this friend of his, their relationship wasn’t very strong these days, but they had a good history. His old friend likely wouldn’t refuse to help.
Thus, his final destination tonight was decided.
He continued to chat with Mrs. Grass who started to joke once she realized she hadn’t made him worried.