Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

In the morning, at St. Duncan Square.

It is located on Church Hill in Lundnim, directly opposite St. Joshua's Cathedral, and is very spacious.

Countless white pigeons scrambled for bread crumbs in the square; clearly, all places frequented by tourists eventually breed large numbers of fat birds.

Good Friday is an important festival of the Royal Church, celebrating St. John's salvation of mankind from ignorance.

In the past, humans couldn't distinguish between demons and larger wild beasts.

It wasn't until the arrival of the mighty Saint Joshua, who guided humanity to identify the demons and develop the source energy, that modern civilization was able to develop normally.

"Charlotte!" Gordon spotted Charlotte in the crowd.

"Gordon~" Charlotte came up to her, her originally dignified steps noticeably quickening in the last few steps.

She stopped just half a step away from Gordon, avoiding a direct collision with him.

Charlotte wore a pure white coat and brand-new stockings that clung tightly to her small feet, thin and sheer. Her round-toed leather shoes were elegant in shape, with delicate buckles across the instep. The rounded toe shape allowed a perfect view of the white silk covering her toes, providing both protection and highlighting her cuteness in just the right way.

Charlotte's best friend Cecilia was behind her, wearing a colorful feather hat, each feather imported from overseas, adorning her like a sweet parrot.

  

Vera was just a few steps behind Gordon.

She gave a slight nod to the two young ladies.

Vera and Charlotte's eyes met briefly in mid-air.

Gordon and Cecilia each grabbed the person next to them.

Cecilia had been observing the situation with a detached, gossipy attitude, but now she's reassessed the relationships between the group.

She didn't know Vera, but she knew that Charlotte had no chance of winning if they went head-to-head. Charlotte needed to find a way to win on other fronts.

"...What's the schedule for today?" Gordon asked. "This is my first time here."

"Today's rule is: no mention of the Blackwater River, bad guys, fishmen, or monsters," Charlotte said.

"What else can we do?"

"Play."

"That's a very luxurious word."

"Don't worry," Charlotte smiled, "Everyone needs to relax sometimes."

"For me, a day without making money is the same as losing money."

"This is the Day of Relief."

"Whose troubles are we trying to save?"

"It's a relief to save someone like you who doesn't know how to rest," Charlotte said.

"Come on, sir, the holiday for Evangelism is fourteen days long," Cecilia said with a smile.

"Let's go play that first," Charlotte said, glancing at the attractions in the square.

There's a knife-throwing trick going on here.

"Charity game for Relief Day: Ten copper coins for three throwing knives, hit the apple and receive a gift." Gordon read aloud.

The stall owner was a fat man with a full beard, who was smiling kindly at them.

The target apple was tied with a rope and hung 2 meters above the ground 15 meters away. It was so red that it looked almost unreal.

"What kind of gift?" Gordon asked.

"The grand prize is a surprise," the stall owner said.

"What is a surprise?" Gordon pressed.

"Does a surprise need to be translated?" the stall owner said.

"What kind of throwing knife?" Vera asked.

"Look." The stall owner displayed many custom-made throwing knives, which were thin and blunt, clearly designed to make tourists lose money.

"Too light," Vera said, weighing it in her hand.

"This is Eid al-Fitr, miss," the stall owner shrugged. "Saint Joshua doesn't want someone to throw it off course, hit a citizen, and send him to the hospital."

"Give me three cuts." Gordon took out 10 copper coins. "Let's see what the reward is if I hit the apple with all three cuts."

"Haha, that's great!" The stall owner took the money. "I forgot to mention, you have to throw it blindfolded."

"Hey!" Charlotte said unhappily, "You should have said so sooner."

"It's alright." Vera took the black cloth, blindfolded herself, and then turned her back.

The stall owner froze in shock.

Such confidence suggests either he's just trying to amuse everyone or he's a true expert.

The stall owner began to pray that she was the former.

Vera turned her back and threw a knife at Apple.

Whoosh!

A small knife suddenly appeared on the apple.

"...Coincidence," the stall owner murmured.

Passersby looked on with curiosity.

Vera did not turn around.

clang!

The second throwing knife hit the first one, splitting it in half. The two pieces of metal spun and fell to the ground, while the apple remained hanging in place.

boom!

The third throwing knife followed immediately, piercing the apple and splattering juice all over the ground.

"Saint Joshua!" The stall owner exclaimed, his mouth agape.

"Oh!"

"Incredible!"

"One more time!" The children clapped, and several adults joined in the cheering.

The startled pigeons around took flight, only to fall back to the ground due to their weight.

Charlotte looked at Vera in surprise.

"How did you do that?" she asked, finding it unbelievable.

At that moment, a faint wish surfaced in Charlotte's heart.

Source matter? Source matter... The thought had just surfaced when she hid it beneath her smile.

"Basics." Vera untied the cloth. "Is the grand prize valuable?"

"..." The stall owner's expression changed. "What do you want to do?"

"If the grand prize is valuable, I can throw knives for a long time," Vera said earnestly.

"Ahem." The stall owner reluctantly took a small toy out of the box. "Congratulations, miss, it's worthless."

[Super Wind-Up Bird. Spin it a few times and then release it; it can fly very high.]

"Do you like it?" Gordon asked.

"..." Vera frowned. "Can we smash it?"

"No," Gordon said. "This is your trophy. And it'll look nice displayed at home."

"Okay." Vera thought that it could indeed be placed at No. 9 Knight Road, so she carefully put it in her pocket.

"I want to buy my father a gift..." Charlotte looked around.

"This is a good spot for thieves," Vera said warily.

"You're being too sensitive," Charlotte said. "What you should be more careful about is a philanderer."

"Where?" Vera looked around at the stalls, then at the fountain and the flock of pigeons, but didn't see any cat.

"It's nothing," Charlotte smiled.

The four continued walking along the square.

There were many items for the charity sale.

The "holy" candle. It goes out when danger is near, and it goes out even when there is no danger, because it is a inferior candle.

[A "bad luck" salt shaker. The salt is real. The evil is fabricated.]

[A "protective" stone. Once it's been polished and developed a patina, it can no longer even protect itself.]

[“Ancient” “Amulet”. The “ancient” part is questionable, and the “amulet” part is also questionable.]

Finally, they arrived at a nice stall in the square.

The stall owner looked like a dishonest middle-aged man, wearing an old top hat and sporting a small mustache.

He claimed to be a fallen nobleman who had brought his family's most valuable possessions to auction off, and that not buying them was an insult to St. John's Sua.

Gordon examined it carefully.

Exotic handicrafts. Locally made.

[A century-old jewelry box. "Century-old" means it's been a century since anyone bought it.]

[An energy conduit. A strange object that looks like a cane; just use it to guide energy.]

Oh!

He'd found a bargain. Gordon examined the walking stick.

It appears to be about one meter long, made of blackthorn plum, and has a classic beauty.

Having learned from his experience with the towel, Gordon attempted to find a connection.

A thin, silvery-white thread emerged from the cane, circled around it, and didn't connect to the stall owner. This further suggests that it's no ordinary item.

"Excellent eye, sir!" the stall owner boasted. "The top of the staff is pure silver, and the trunk is made of blackthorn. When my father was alive, he took it to the royal palace on Mount King."

Charlotte lowered her voice.

"Gordon! It's a scam. These people will say that everything comes from bankrupt nobles, and every noble has been to the palace. If that were true, the palace would be overcrowded, and His Majesty wouldn't even have a place to stay."

"I know. But it looks like it suits me perfectly."

"Maybe," Charlotte pouted, "but I can buy you one."

The stall owner immediately felt threatened.

"New walking sticks have a price, old walking sticks have history!" the stall owner hurriedly said. "It has a story! It carries the last vestiges of a family's dignity!"

"It's better than a regular cane," Vera observed.

"This young lady knows her stuff!"

"The length is just right, making it easy to hit someone on the head."

"Well……"

"The end has metal, so it will hurt a lot if you get hit."

"This young lady knows a lot about practical value." The stall owner's smile seemed a little forced.

Gordon picked up his cane and fiddled with it for a moment.

"Energy conduit"...

He channeled his power into the staff, and it flowed downwards along the energy patterns inside the staff.

It's like pouring water into a well-maintained ditch—smooth, stable, and without any loss.

Then, Gordon gently tapped the ground with his cane.

thump.

A force spread out, collecting information from within tens or hundreds of meters, and then instantly fed back to Gordon's mind.

The ground shook... the footsteps of humans...

He felt it all with perfect clarity; everything around him was woven into a net that vibrated and sang simultaneously.

Now, even with my eyes closed, I can feel the sounds of things touching the ground.

People come and go, and it's very clear who walks fast and who sneaks along.

A strange object capable of holding, guiding, and radiating source matter.

Not bad.

Gordon picked up his cane. He couldn't let the stall owner know this was a real treasure.