Warriors will die if they charge.

Both of them had very little luggage. Apart from some essential daily necessities, Marcus only had a few changes of clothes, a magic longsword he had brought from the devil's vault, and the "Warrior's Handbook".

Trish had even fewer belongings: two sets of clothes, the black dress she wore while sleeping in the crystal coffin, a few hair ties, a longsword and a dagger, and a few general reading materials.

The pots and pans were packed together with bed sheets, and the usable furniture was disassembled and placed on the cart at the door. When only a bare shell remained of the bungalow, Marcus turned around without looking back, humming a little tune as he pulled the cart toward his new home.

Trish stared at the small house where she had lived for half a month for a long time, a strange sadness welling up in her heart. Before coming to the surface, she would never have imagined that she would be living in a small house for half a month.

The days of spying on Marcus at night had just passed, yet it felt like only yesterday.

Zhuoer followed behind the cart, glancing back at the abandoned hut from time to time.

Pedestrians along the street greeted Marcus with curiosity as he dragged his luggage.

"You've recently made a fortune, are you planning to buy a new house?"

"Luck, it's all luck. I won quite a bit yesterday." Marcus couldn't hide his smugness as he shouted to the people who greeted him:

"They've moved to Yuegui Road. I'll treat you to a drink next time."

Returning to the beautiful yard Lawson had gifted him, Marcus wiped non-existent sweat from his forehead. The sun was scorching, yet it warmed his heart.

He put down the cart and introduced it to Zhuoer, who was observing the yard:

"The yard is quite spacious, with a two-story living room. The master bedroom is on the left side of the second floor. It has good lighting and ventilation. You can sleep in that room."

"And you?"

"You can use the second bedroom on the second floor to store your things. I'll sleep in the guest room on the first floor. The house is very clean, so you can move in as soon as you put your things in."

Trish couldn't understand why Marcus seemed so nonchalant and indifferent to Lawson's strange behavior; there was clearly something odd about this courtyard.

She watched as the man unpacked the bed frame, storage cabinet, pots and pans one by one, and suddenly spoke:

"I want a new bed. Your bed keeps shaking at night and keeps me awake."

Marcus, in a great mood, didn't criticize Drow's picky attitude. He had exactly five gold coins left from yesterday's cockfight, which he could use to exchange for some new furniture.

"I'll go to Peter's place and see if he has anything ready-made, besides a new bed, a wardrobe, a table and chairs, a bedside table, and oh yes, I'll also buy a nice curtain."

Humming a little tune, Marcus dragged the cart out of the courtyard again. As Trish watched his retreating figure, she felt a pang of sadness.

After getting rid of the carefree fool, Drow picked up the magic longsword that had been carelessly tossed on the ground.

Yes, he's a fool. He threw such precious things on the ground.

She slowly walked into the house, and with a seriousness she had never shown before, she examined every corner, brick seam, and rubble.

She pulled up all the withered and shriveled plants in the central garden, tore off the vines that were wrapped around the mahogany support, and stood in the messy yard whispering.

"There are no spiders."

Around noon, Marcus returned home with two workers, carrying a brand-new sandalwood bed, wardrobe, and table and chairs, which had cost a considerable sum of money.

He saw the courtyard covered with weeds, vines and fallen leaves, and Zhuoer squatting on the ground, using his longsword as a stick to probe into the pit. He shook his head helplessly.

Indeed, she was checking the safety of the yard, but her methods seemed a bit rough.

"We've bought all the furniture you wanted. Go see where to put it in the bedroom."

Three men worked together to carry the heavy solid wood bed upstairs. During a break, Marcus took out two silver coins and handed them to Zhuoer at the corner of the stairs.

"Go buy a few bottles of beer and some ready-to-eat food."

Zhuo'er didn't take the silver coins. She glanced at the workers who were assembling wooden beds through the window and said, "This is their job. Are you rich? You even treat people to drinks and meals."

"Marcus, come down and give me a hand, this cabinet is a bit heavy."

The sound from downstairs made Marcus immediately agree. For the first time in half a month, he took the initiative to grab Trish's hand, which was hidden in her cloak, and pressed two silver coins onto her pale palm.

"This is our new home, stop dawdling around, you troublesome woman."

A new home, huh?

Zhuoer clutched the silver coins and went to the street to buy a dozen beers, as well as cooked sausages and biscuits. When she returned, she found only one worker sweeping weeds in the courtyard.

"Where's Marcus?"

Upon hearing Zhuo Er's cold voice, the worker hurriedly turned around, saw the basket being handed to him, and accepted it without hesitation.

"He said he wanted to buy a big bathtub and a dining table and chairs, and then he went out with Cowper."

He plopped down on the pile of weeds and vines, took out sausages and biscuits from the basket, and ate a few big bites.

Then I saw the woman whose face I still couldn't see clearly. She stood like a statue under the shed and asked me casually:

"Excuse me, ma'am, are you Marcus's?"

Zhuo Er did not respond, but simply turned to the side, gazing coldly at the curious worker.

He shrank back, frightened by the chilling murderous intent, and muttered, "I was just curious to ask what kind of woman could make this silly boy so interested, who doesn't do any work and can just stay at home eating and drinking."

Tracy remembered those words. Without asking for their specific meaning, she chose to stand quietly in the shade of the shed and wait for time to pass.

Marcus returned to his new home, arranged the furniture to make it a semblance of a living area, and then, in the evening, settled the accounts with Cowper and Morton for their help and treated them to a simple meal outside.

With mixed feelings of joy and heaviness, he returned to the guest room on the first floor of the living room and lay down limply on the old wooden bed with only a straw mat.

The ceiling was high enough not to stick to his hair, and there was no lingering damp smell of muddy roads. He stared blankly at the dark wooden planks, seemingly still recalling the incredible experience of the day.

With rare-level cards and coupons, which pool should I go all in on?

Marcus thought about it and realized that always choosing the guaranteed minimum wasn't a good idea; it didn't offer any sense of surprise.

From yesterday's battle with the freakish Hurt, he also felt the gap between the three different levels of talent.

Speed ​​bumps can ignore pain and injury; with enough willpower, they become an insurmountable wall.

Furthermore, the ability to inflict a slowing effect on the enemy upon being attacked, the increased defense that can even weaken the damage from swords, and the continuously rising strength and constitution over time are all core factors that allow one to barely keep up with the pace of Het's attacks...

Moreover, it seemed to have an effect that he hadn't noticed during the battle. The Pleasure Knight's sword carried a poison, but he didn't understand exactly what it was. He only felt an itch all over his body, his little Norfitz was hard, and his big Norfitz was shivering.

Theropod respiratory system provides ample endurance, so even during prolonged high-intensity combat, the body does not experience significant fatigue or soreness.

The weakened version of Troll Regeneration is a patch to both of them. It's not a core talent, but its effect is still very noticeable. The ability to recover means a higher margin for error.

In the pitch-black, desolate night, he pondered which pool to go all in on...

A pair of scarlet eyes silently and slowly entered the center from the edge of the field of vision, their eerie red light radiating an ominous aura.

Marcus's consciousness dissipated, and he lay paralyzed on the bed, staring at the suddenly appearing Lord Drow.

"Lady Trissy, perhaps next time you could try knocking before coming in, although I haven't closed the door."

"I'm not used to it."

"This is a custom in human society; doors symbolize private space."

Triss shook her head, her long, silvery hair slipping from her shoulder to Marcus's chest. A trembling unease lingered in her eyes as she placed her clenched fist against her chest.

"Darkness is watching me, like Rose's warm, dense spider web, eagerly dragging me back to the underworld."

"You've been on the surface for a long time," Marcus said softly, employing a lion-like command of language.

"You're not a little kid anymore; it's time for you to learn to count sheep to sleep."

He was now so focused on going all in that he was completely oblivious to the unease that Trissy was subtly revealing.

"it is good."

As Trish's face slowly disappeared from view, Marcus felt his arm being firmly gripped by a hand. He stared speechlessly at the strange woman.

"What do you mean?"

"Work, I'll sleep with you."

Marcus fell silent, then grabbed Trish's arm and used brute force to drag her to the empty area on the bed against the wall.

He sighed, "I'm already tired enough from work today, don't make things worse. If you think you can't sleep without my snoring, then squeeze in."

Zhuoer lay silently on the bed, slowly placing his hands on his flat stomach, looking up at the ceiling, the uneasy red light in his eyes much weaker.

She heard steady breathing; his exhalations were long and gentle, like a breeze blowing softly.

Darkness enveloped the entire room. In the infrared field of vision, there was only one man lying beside him, his face upturned, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The spiderwebs melted in the breath, their warmth and density transforming into the humid, sultry heat of Linhe Town. This climate might make you feel irritable and sleepy, but it would never make you feel suffocated.

She could feel that thread...

It was there when she awoke from Emma's coffin, but she was never sure if it was real or a hallucination.

Now, as she lay on the wooden bed no more than a hand's width away from him, the silk threads became exceptionally clear, warm, and heavy.

Yes, Emma's covenant, I understand... The safe place he promised, is it you? A foolish human.

"Never mind," she thought to herself with a self-deprecating smile, then slowly closed her eyes and suddenly opened her mouth to speak.

"Marcus, your temperature is a little high. I noticed it back in the old house. Do you have some kind of hidden illness?"

"How can I let an ice queen sleep next to me if my body temperature isn't high? Do you like aloof and handsome guys? What can two ice queens produce when they're together? Ice crystals?"

Trissy shifted her body, maintaining a safe distance from the man who was burning hot all over.

"You should probably take a shower."

"Okay." Marcus nodded; he was just thinking of going to the tavern to try his luck at cards.

If you win, go all in on the top prize pool; if you lose, play it safe.

"You're going to play cards, aren't you? You're not allowed to go."

"Just kill me already. He said he wanted to sleep with me, but then complained that I was too hot. Zhuo'er is such a pain."

"Alright, since you want to play cards, let's play a round now. You can't be a sore loser, can you? You short-lived devil."

Marcus rolled over, turning his back to Zhuo'er, and mumbled, "Say that again, and I'll throw you out. Go to sleep!"