I'm not a Witcher anymore.

Zieg didn't look down to examine the money bag closely when he took it.

With a touch of the fingertip, one could tell that there were indeed two more gold coins inside than before.

He casually put the money pouch away, then raised his hand and slightly flipped his fingers.

The next moment, tiny, silvery-white dust particles emerged from the palm of the hand.

The light wasn't dazzling; instead, it carried a quiet and orderly quality, like countless tiny stardust particles peeled from the air and pausing briefly in front of his palm.

Then, one by one, the items began to fall from the dust of light.

First was a long knife with a chipped edge.

Next was a round shield with concave edges.

Then came several pieces of leather armor pierced by arrows and stained with large patches of dried, dark blood.

Swords, shields, leather armor, and even two arm guards and belts stripped from the dead fell one after another onto the open ground in front of the shop, making a chaotic, muffled sound as metal and leather collided.

In a short while, a small pile of spoils appeared on the ground.

Some were still covered in mud.

Some of the blood on top hadn't even completely coagulated into a hard shell.

Ravenna glanced down, her nose wrinkling almost imperceptibly.

"This tastes really bad."

Zieg seemed oblivious to the foul smell of sweat, blood, and cheap leather, and simply looked up at Joel.

"Boss."

"Do you want to take this batch of goods?"

Joel's expression changed instantly.

It wasn't an accident.

It's not simply the skill and shrewdness one displays when faced with ready-made goods.

He stood still for a moment and quietly glanced at the pile of things.

That gaze was very heavy.

It was as if only now, at this moment, that he was truly able to clearly lay out in front of himself what he had learned from his near-death experiences along the way.

That long sword with a chipped edge.

That round shield with a concave edge.

There were also those leather armors that were pierced by arrows, had broken leather straps, and had dark blood scabs on the edges.

Not long ago, these things were in the hands of those outlaws.

Now, however, they are piled up haphazardly in front of the weapons shop, covered in mud, blood, and a lingering stench.

Joel's gaze lingered on the pile of weapons and armor, and his expression darkened.

Of course he recognizes these things.

Only now, with them piled up so quietly before him, did he belatedly realize that the previous ambush had left people and weapons behind in the wilderness.

That emotion only lasted for a moment.

The next moment, he squatted down again.

The movements were quick, but not rushed.

It was more like someone who was used to this line of work, and even before the fear had completely subsided, he still instinctively reached out his hand.

He first picked up the long sword at the top.

The moment he held the blade, his knuckles felt a slight weight, and he then weighed it in his hand, slowly running his thumb along the edge to check if the cutting edge was still straight.

The gap wasn't too deep.

After being re-sharpened, it may still be able to be sold.

Then he turned the two leather armors over.

Where is the tear? Can the stitches still be repaired? Should the entire belt be replaced, or should only the broken buckle be replaced?

As for the places stained with blood and mud, he didn't look at them much, as if deliberately avoiding those overly obvious traces, focusing his attention only on the more practical areas.

Then Joel stood up each of the shields one by one, bent his fingers, and tapped each one on the surface and edge.

Has the wood core become damp or cracked?

Has the metal edge been loosened by the impact?

Will the grips on the back be strong enough to withstand the next block?

He read very slowly.

Each time he flipped through an item, his gaze would linger on it for a few more moments.

It was as if they were trying to determine how much these items were still worth, and also as if they were using these knife marks, cracks, and dried bloodstains to see clearly again the traces left by the previous ambush.

Joel didn't raise his hand until he put the last shield back on the ground, then he patted the dust, rust, and dander from his palm.

Then, he slowly exhaled.

Only then did he raise his head.

"Most swords and knives can still be used directly."

"Although the leather armor is damaged, it can still be sold after some repairs and replacement of belts and buckles."

"As for these shields—two sides are a bit weak, but the rest are quite sturdy."

As he spoke, he quickly mentally calculated the price.

The numbers were only revealed at the very end.

"Based on the purchase price, I will give you twenty-two gold and three silver."

He paused, then added, his tone more serious than usual.

"Under normal circumstances, I might have been able to lower the price a bit more. But this batch of goods was obtained by you risking your lives, and I don't do that kind of dishonest business."

After he said that, none of them objected.

Finn didn't care about these trivial details.

Although Ravenna was always good with numbers, she could tell that this was already a fairly fair price.

Ingram glanced at the pile of spoils before looking away.

For him, how much money these things could be exchanged for was far less important than getting rid of the tightness and pain in his chest that rose with every breath.

Seeing that no one objected, Joel got up again and took out gold and silver coins from the wooden box.

The coins fell one by one into the palm of the hand, making a soft, crisp sound.

But when he reached the last number, his hand movements paused slightly.

He glanced down at the small change and frowned.

"These numbers are hard to divide."

As he spoke, he simply took out another silver coin from the box and tossed it in cleanly.

"Round it up."

"Twenty-two gold and four silver. The four of you will each receive five gold and six silver."

This time, instead of distributing the money individually, he handed the heavy wad of cash directly to Zieg.

Zieg reached out and took it.

The gold and silver coins felt substantial and cool to the touch when pressed into the palm of the hand.

He glanced down at it, lightly flicked the edge with his thumb, and already knew what to expect.

The next moment, he twisted his wrist, first placing one portion into his left palm, and then counting out the remaining coins one by one.

Five gold coins.

Six silver coins.

The quantity was exactly as described.

His movements were quick but not hurried; as his fingertips brushed against the coins, the gold and silver touched each other lightly, producing a series of soft, crisp sounds.

After counting, Zig handed over Finn's share first.

He then gave the second copy to Ravenna.

The third one was delivered to Ingram.

Finally, Zieg put away his share.

After the money was distributed, there was a brief silence in front of the store.

Zig's gaze shifted from Ingram to Finn's shoulder and back, then returned to him.

"The guild isn't in a rush."

"You two go to the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess first and have the priest treat your injuries."

Ingram seemed to want to say something more.

But as soon as he took a breath, the dull pain deep in his chest rose up again, causing his ribs and back to tighten.

He frowned, and the words he was about to say stopped in his tracks.

Zieg looked at him, his voice steady.

"A weak healing potion can only suppress the condition for now; it doesn't mean the injury is healed."

After saying that, he looked at Finn.

The spearman stood firm, his spear not wobbling at all.

But that kind of stability seemed more like something forced.

The impact to my right shoulder and lower back was quite severe. It's okay if I don't move for now, but once I relax, the soreness, numbness, and dull pain accumulated in my muscles will gradually rise upwards.

Zieg didn't say anything more, only that:

"It's always safer to go and take a look together."

Finn glanced at him.

He clearly didn't think his injuries were anything serious.

At least compared to the deformed heavy armor on Ingram's chest, he could still stand and walk.

But after pausing, he nodded.

"Alright."

Ravenna put the purse away and then took over the conversation.

"Sieg and I can handle things at the guild."

She raised her hand and hooked the short bow at her waist, her tone relaxed.

"It's just handing over the left ear, it's not like we're going to dismantle someone's nest, there's no need for so many people to squeeze in together."

Ingram looked at her, then at Zieg, as if he still felt a little guilty.

But in the end, he whispered:

"Then I'll have to trouble you."

Ravenna waved her hand.

"By the time you leave the Church of the Earth Mother, we might already have received our bounty."

Upon hearing this, even Joel's expression relaxed a little.

After a brief discussion, the group decided to leave without further delay and went their separate ways.