"Please enjoy, weary traveler! Taste our proudest creation, the fresh Oakwood Ale!" The hearty tavern owner, Maxwell, proclaimed with pride as he gestured generously, presenting a large mug of Oakwood Ale, its surface adorned with dense, frothy bubbles, near Raymond De Redwood at the bar. Ironically, within the warm and pleasant confines of the tavern, there was a lively atmosphere—people engaged in cheerful conversations, enjoying delicacies and fine drinks. Discussions ranged from endless political debates to tales of the supernatural and miscellaneous gossip, creating an ambiance of prosperity and joy. However, just outside the tavern, the western wind howled, and countless commoners fled in all directions, seeking refuge. Streets and alleys were filled with beggars, refugees, and those forced to sell themselves to survive. Gang conflicts escalated, driven by the desperate competition for meager resources. Even packs of wild dogs, hungry and watchful, eyed the emaciated refugees, eagerly awaiting the moment of vulnerability for a brutal ambush, a feast in the midst of adversity...

Yet, those within the walls remained oblivious, turning a deaf ear to the outside world, dismissing it like worn-out shoes. What could be more important than the extravagant pleasures before their eyes? The slender waists of harlots delicately held in the long arms of gentlemen, fragrant steaks and rich red wine leaving lingering flavors on their lips. A small folk band played a relaxing tune, and the ancestral way of life continued, comfortable and content. Wealth and prestige, accumulated over several centuries, circulated within, growing thicker with time. As for the wretched scene outside? It was likely due to their lack of effort, and who cared anyway.

Raymond De Redwood outwardly echoed and enthusiastically agreed, yet inwardly, he despised these bunches of wine sacks and rice worms to the extreme. He would rather sit on a small sand dune in the desert, nibbling on a dried cactus, facing the setting sun with a carefree attitude toward life. But this was one of his jobs. Extensive pre-investigation helped improve his success rate in theft. The essential skills for a top-notch thief weren't always the act of stealing itself but the comprehensive planning ability of strategic analysis. This was also why Raymond De Redwood consistently ranked in the top three in the annual strength assessments of the Thieves' Guild. He might not be the most agile or the best at disguises, but he was often the most cautious and meticulous. While Raymond De Redwood smiled and chatted animatedly with the stranger at the neighboring seat, savoring the oak beer, in his heart, he meticulously arranged the asset information and recent trivial gossip mentioned by each customer. He was searching for a suitable target, much like a hungry hawk searching for mice and hares.

"Hey, my friend! What did you say your name was? Haha, it doesn't matter, my, (hiccuping)grrrr~ friend!" The somewhat intoxicated customer next to him, still maintaining an excited posture, called out to Raymond De Redwood. He, under the flickering candlelight at the bar, looked red and swollen, resembling a giant sausage just filled at the butcher shop. Even a shirt made of the most precious fabric appeared somewhat comical on his crowded figure. The sapphire-made buttons were tenaciously clinging to the shirt, as if a slight movement would surrender them to the rebellion of the fat underneath. This stout drunkard, emanating a nauseating body odor and the stench of alcohol, approached Raymond De Redwood with a foolish grin. In a mysterious and self-perceived hushed tone, he said, "My friend, have you heard? Hehe, about the recent big event! The young and beautiful daughter of the nearby apple orchard farmer, Laura..."

"Oh? What happened? I'm so curious! My friend, in the name of the benevolent Radiant Goddess Viola, please satisfy my insatiable and troublesome curiosity. I will be eternally grateful!" Raymond De Redwood, enduring the unbearable stench as much as possible, forced a smile and exclaimed. His annoyance had reached its peak, but he had to endure it for the sake of this potential big deal.

"Learning as I go, to be honest, I have no idea about any Radiant Goddess Viola! I only know about gold, antiques, and gemstones! If there really is some goddess of light in this world, in the name of her kindness, why doesn't she throw you, this stinking pig, into the bath and scrub you a hundred times? You must be sleeping in a dung heap every day, all pickled and fermented, gross!" Raymond De Redwood roared silently in his heart, but there was no way around it. Dealing with "potential high-value customers" required him to carry the spirit of a craftsman and maintain excellent service attitude. This was the professional ethics that a top-notch thief needed to adhere to.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Earlier, I heard our nearby apple orchard's farmer, Claude, bragging. His beautiful daughter, Laura, was chosen as a 'gift of the gods' by the emissary of the Radiant Goddess. She was sent to the temple to receive the blessings of the gods!" The drunkard exclaimed, nudging and winking at Raymond De Redwood while waving his arms wildly. Raymond De Redwood smiled and artfully led on, asking, "A 'gift of the gods'? How interesting! My generous friend, would you mind elaborating? What exactly is this 'blessing' situation?" He then gracefully signaled to the barkeep, saying, "Barkeep, bring a few more pints of oak ale for my friend here, drinks on me!" The obedient bartender swiftly brought the freshest tap beer, and the inebriated man, enjoying the favor, continued his animated narrative.

"My friend, as a follower of the Radiant Goddess, you must stay updated on new knowledge! Viola shelters diligent and studious believers, hahaha. But since you've treated me to this delicious beer, I feel obligated to share with you— the term 'gift of the gods' refers to the annual event where the emissaries of the Radiant Goddess venture out from the temple. They meticulously select devout villagers suitable for the divine blessings, bringing them to the temple to spread the kindness and generosity of the great deity. Only the most devout and pure believers, untainted by flaws, have the honor of being chosen. And the so-called 'blessing' is the divine gift bestowed upon the believers, a supreme glory that is both rare and remarkable!" The drunkard nodded as if an erudite scholar, adding a touch of sophistication to his demeanor. "Ah, I see. That explains how our lovely Laura was gloriously chosen to represent our little town," Raymond De Redwood chimed in, feigning understanding.

But the drunkard quickly glanced around at the crowd, pulling Raymond De Redwood closer. In a voice only audible to the two of them, he whispered, 'Yes, it should have been an unparalleled honor! But there's something wrong with this. Some eerie and frightening things have been happening.'

"Dreadful events? Please elaborate further," Raymond De Redwood became intrigued, sensing that he might be entangled in a mysterious affair. "The unsettling incidents occurred around the divine selection and blessing," the drunkard whispered, lowering his voice. "Several months ago, the farmers in the apple orchard were celebrating Laura's selection. However, after they watched Laura enter the temple, for months, there was no news about her. She disappeared as if evaporated from the earth. Laura's father, Farmer Claude, nearly went insane, but bound by the will of the Radiant Goddess, he could only wait anxiously. Finally, a few nights ago, the divine messenger, accompanied by a retinue, brought Laura back to his home."

"This sounds intriguing," Raymond De Redwood expressed his confusion, "but the timing of bringing her back is a bit odd, isn't it? Why send this young lady home in the middle of the night?" "Tsk tsk, let me finish," the drunkard shook his head, and a glint of sobriety lit up in his bleary eyes. "The one who came back, it's her and yet not her!"

"Huh?!!!" Raymond De Redwood widened his eyes, feeling a bit bewildered. "It's her and yet not her? What strange wording is this?"

The drunkard smirked with a knowing smile. 'It's quite literal. Laura has returned, physically the same Laura, but her soul didn't come back, maybe even got replaced.' Taking a sip of his beer, he continued, 'Poor old Claude was overjoyed at first when he got his daughter back, but after a while, he began to feel that something was off. Laura's character changed drastically, her behavior completely different from before, like she got a new soul! The previous Laura was kind, gentle, loved by everyone in the orchard, like an innocent fawn. Since receiving the blessing, Laura became cold, irritable, avoiding contact with anyone, and erupting into fits of rage after a few exchanges. There are even reports of her secretly devouring a raw chicken, her eyes reflecting an eerie green glow, like some malevolent creature! The current Laura has gone mad, completely losing her sanity. Claude has confined her to her room, desperately searching for someone who can cure her. He seems to suspect that it's related to the Radiant Temple, but the influence of Viola is too great. They're quietly enduring the ordeal, seeking help on their own.'