There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

But today's situation is completely different from what I imagined.

Instead of two groups of dusty animals staring at each other with sharp eyes, they came running towards us, gathered together and dragging something along.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

I strolled slowly back to the tavern from the beach, only to be met head-on by the mischievous animals.

And so our eye contact became:

Me: (#-_-) What are you guys doing?

Horse: (..o?_?o..) I'm just a horse, I don't know anything.

Leopard: (*?ェ?*) I'm just a leopard, I don't know anything.

These animals seem to be getting better and better at playing dumb. Is it just my imagination?

Only after the animals scattered did I see a human-shaped object on the ground. The animals had been working together, dragging and pulling this object to transport it.

The overall division of labor was as follows: the "Shamate Wild Horse" walked in front, biting the collar on its back with its teeth, while the other two horses, one on each side, dragged the sleeves. Meanwhile, "Cheetah One" used its head to push itself forward near its waist.

Thanks to the chaos caused by these animals, I couldn't figure out what this thing was. The humanoid creature was covered in mud and dust, thickly covering its exposed skin, like a newly summoned stone giant.

Mixed with this soil is the seeping blood and sweat, which stick to the skin and form a thick layer. If you put it outside and let it dry in the sun for two days, it will become a qualified terracotta warrior.

Good heavens, a Blood Stone Giant?

The fine wounds caused by being dragged on the ground were slowly bleeding, causing the poor man pain all over his body, yet he could not stop the pain from spreading. He could only weakly twist his body to prove that he was alive.

...The animals were incredibly cruel! Even if the animal survived, it will most likely be disfigured.

But when I looked closer, I discovered even more details.

For example, the person's clothes have many tears and snags, with extremely irregular edges, and are concentrated on the hem, sleeves, and trouser legs. It is obvious that the person ran through places like cacti or thorn bushes and was torn by branches in a hurry, turning their originally decent and sturdy clothes into tattered beggar's clothes.

Through the tear in his clothes, I could see redness and bruising on his knees and elbows, with the most severe areas still covered in scabs. These injuries must have been caused by a fall while running, a collision in a moment of panic—and he must have been conscious.

Only a person who is fully conscious will brace themselves with their hands and feet when they fall to prevent injuries to vital organs such as the head.

This person is a typical example of this type of fall. All the wounds on his body are superficial injuries. The only head injury is probably caused by falling headfirst to the ground before he fainted, resulting in a large gash on his forehead and severe swelling of his brow bone.

Even worse, I saw severe wear and tear on his feet. The shoes he was wearing had been worn through during the run, and the rough sand had directly rubbed against the soles of his feet, creating shocking wounds on his right foot.

I can't imagine how this person could run across the scorching, rough Gobi Desert without feeling a thing, until the soles of their shoes were worn through and their feet were bleeding profusely, without even a hint of wanting to stop...

I squatted down and touched the person's forehead, only to find that the person's forehead was extremely hot and their whole body was still convulsing unconsciously.

I already knew that running in high temperatures makes it very easy to sweat, and excessive loss of body water can lead to severe dehydration and heatstroke symptoms such as dizziness, fatigue, and confusion. In addition, it can also cause electrolyte loss and muscle cramps.

I was very careful to avoid direct sunlight, but this person's dehydration and hyperthermia were so severe that he must have reached his physical limit before collapsing near the pub and being brought back by a group of animals fighting.

but……

I looked at this person and felt like something was off.

After observing him closely for a while, I realized that this person's hairline was so precarious that he didn't even need to shave his head for filming Qing Dynasty dramas.

And considering this tattered but still discernible garment of material and style... isn't this the same Burnett who left my tavern three days ago?!

Seeing this, I quickly chased away the animals that were watching, then carried the unconscious Burnett back into the house and put him down in the storeroom next to the tavern hall, taking some first aid measures to prevent him from dying suddenly.

I prepared some salt water with rock salt and gave it to Burnett to prevent him from dying of thirst. As I fed him water, the poor guy, like a fish about to die of thirst, slightly moved his lips, trying to moisten his chapped lips further.

Who knows what happened to this guy? Was he robbed on the road? Or did he take the wrong turn and stumble into some thorny thicket?

For a seasoned merchant like him, either of these scenarios is clearly impossible. Not to mention, this man is quite timid and never stands under a wall; even if the temptation of enormous profits were placed before him, he might not have the courage to take it.

"Select work order: Prioritize rescuing Burnett."

This person has survived to this day and even happened to appear in my tavern by chance. I can't just leave him to die, can I?

Fortunately, I had a batch of wild herbs on hand that I could use to treat the disease; otherwise, I probably wouldn't have been able to treat his complicated condition by rubbing the wound with my bare hands.

His symptoms included heatstroke, malnutrition, dehydration, abrasions, and bruises. Even the colonists had to go to great lengths to clean the dirt and blood off his body, try to prevent the wounds from getting infected, and then apply medicine and bandages.

Just after I finished my medical work, I heard an even louder noise coming from outside the door, rapidly approaching the tavern from a distance.

"People inside! Get out here!"

Chapter 301 Tavern Battle of Wits

The harsh shouts outside the door, separated only by a wooden wall, reached my ears instantly.

The tavern had only this one simple wooden wall, which was absolutely no match for malicious vandalism. And this group followed Burnett closely—I simply cannot believe that they were not connected.

Since we're already here, we might as well go out and see what these people are here for.

I closed the storeroom door, stepped outside, and locked the wooden door securely, adding a bolt before leisurely walking out of the tavern and standing before the group of people.

A group of six armed men, riding on tall dromedary camels, stood in the open space in front of the tavern. One of them stepped forward and shouted insults, brandishing a rusty scimitar, as if he would attack if he didn't get a response.

The group wore layers of interlocking desert robes, dark gray turbans, and their faces were painted with grotesque marks, obscuring their true appearances. Their attire was rough, but their equipment did not resemble that of barbarians.

But judging from their slightly distorted yet excited expressions, they were definitely not honest and law-abiding people. The bulging shape of their legs suggested they were carrying either guns or crossbows. As the saying goes, "He who carries a weapon will naturally harbor murderous intent," and these fully armed men arriving at the door were certainly not there for a casual chat or drinks.

Who exactly did Burnett offend?

If they were just ordinary bandits, they wouldn't have gone so far as to take his life after robbing him of his goods, chasing him for an unknown distance.

I glanced around and saw that the wild horse had already led the wounded horse off to frolic somewhere, and wouldn't be back anytime soon. The injured cheetah was listless and sleeping in my bedroom; there was absolutely no way to wake it unless the sky were to fall and the earth were to collapse.

Meanwhile, the other leopard was holed up in the tin rooftop shack, which looked like a giant chimney from a distance. Hearing the shouts at the door, Cheetah One felt its territory was threatened and its pride trampled upon, and wagged its tail, ready to emerge from the roof.

The moment I saw a spotted tail wagging on the roof, I glared at it menacingly. The cheetah, meeting my gaze, instantly reverted to its cowardly form and retreated back into the house.

"Hey, what are you looking at!"

The man in the red headscarf who had been leading the way saw me come out, but after waiting for a long time, he didn't hear any of my questions or pleas for mercy. Instead, he saw me turn my head to look at the roof, and his tone instantly turned angry.

"You're a resident here?!"

This man had a very bad temper. He spurred his camel to charge at me, trying to intimidate me.

I caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye, but my expression didn't change. I pretended to panic and dodged backward, which actually saved me from the impact.

Seeing this, the woman in the red headscarf wasn't angry at all. Instead, she said sarcastically, "Tch, I thought you were so capable! You dare to dodge again? If you dodge again, I'll smash your head."

Pshaw, you think I'll just stay put if you tell me not to? Wouldn't that be incredibly embarrassing?

I saw him brandishing his tetanus scimitar, then turning and charging at me again. I shifted to the left, dodging the camel's charge and the scimitar's slashes. The dromedary camel, carrying the red turban, crashed into the tavern's outer wall, smashing a section of it.

Seeing the man in the red headscarf get flustered, his four companions behind him burst into laughter, "Are you even capable?! Didn't you have milk this morning?"

The man in the red headscarf stood up with a gloomy expression, but then turned around with a smirk, looking furious and ready to settle scores with me, brandishing a knife.

I stood still and shouted to the crowd, "Leader, you've tested me enough, haven't you? Are you looking for a meal or a place to stay? Please come in."

Sure enough, after a loud voice rang out, one of the onlookers stepped forward from the crowd, a surprised smile on his face, and said, "Lucio, stop." Then he looked at me, "I'm curious, how did you know I'm the leader?"

With a playful expression, I glanced back at the red-turbaned figure, who had been halted halfway through the charge by their leader. Now, caught between a rock and a hard place, he stood there awkwardly, his face flushing briefly before his momentum waned.

“Leader, this hothead behind you looks loud and boisterous, but he doesn’t know what’s important and he can’t judge people accurately. He’s obviously just a lackey leading the charge.” I said with a smile. “While you guys are far away in the wilderness, the other three are subtly protecting you in the middle and have subconsciously left a path for you. This is definitely the treatment a leader gets.”

The leader's expression softened slightly, seemingly quite pleased with my subtle flattery.

The problem is, I just got incredibly lucky. I randomly called out in the crowd, and you came out and claimed your identity yourself. Do I really need to deduce that?

He rode up on a camel and looked down at me, asking, "So you still dare to invite us in? Do you know whose territory this is?"

I smiled, left a message, and turned to walk into the tavern: "Does it matter whose place this is? My tavern welcomes anyone who wants business. Please come in!"

As the man in the red turban brushed past me, he raised his knife to strike the back of my head, but the camel leader kicked him hard in the back.

"Boss! Why won't you let me do it?!"

The man in the red headscarf was stunned by the beating and impatiently questioned the leader, his face full of dissatisfaction.

The leader dismounted from the camel, walked over, and punched the man in the red turban in the face again. The force was so great that the man's left cheek swelled up instantly.

"You idiot, you're left outside to watch the camels!"

After saying this, the leader immediately lowered his voice and roared, "...Look at the footprints on the ground!" Then he led a few of his men into the tavern.

The woman in the red headscarf looked dizzily at the ground, where there were several distinct footprints. The largest and most scattered footprint was hers, three straight footprints leading to the tavern belonged to the leader and his companions, and there was also a deep imprint left by the camel she had ridden…

Wait a minute, why aren't there any footprints of the tavern owner?!

The woman in the red headscarf fell silent instantly, her anger turning into lingering fear. She stood frozen outside, motionless.

Once inside the house, I could hear the criminals talking even through the door.

Do all you villains really enjoy plotting face-to-face?

I never imagined that even after hiding it so well, they would still discover my unusual nature. Indeed, a man as outstanding as me, no matter where I am, shines like a firefly in the darkness—so bright, so exceptional…

Three uninvited guests followed closely behind me and sat down at the table in the hall, leaving one leaning against the doorway, pretending to admire the scenery outside, but actually blocking the only passage to prevent me from suddenly escaping.

"Gentlemen, what would you like a drink?"

I stood calmly behind the bar, completely unconcerned about the unfavorable situation. Since they already misunderstood me as a master, I might as well continue playing this role.

"I don't care what we eat! My boss, I just want to ask one question: have you seen a suspicious person around here?"

"What does he look like?" I asked casually. "Is he a flustered, balding middle-aged man carrying a lot of tobacco?"

"You really have seen him! Hand him over right now, or else..." The leader pressed his advantage, uttering words that carried a hidden threat.

I realized that this group was indeed after Burnett.

"You mean him!" I pretended to suddenly realize something and nodded. "Never seen him before." Then I shook my head decisively, indicating that I had never seen this person before.

"..."

Chapter 302 Seeing Through It All

"You dare to play me?"

The leader's expression changed drastically, and he slammed his fist on the table, finally unable to bear losing face in front of his subordinates. Being cautious because he couldn't see through the other party's true nature was one thing; being tricked and then swallowing his anger was quite another. If he could endure this situation, he probably wouldn't be able to maintain his dignity in front of his men.

I looked at him calmly, my hands firmly behind the bar as I poured drinks.

“Don’t be so sensitive. The person I’m talking about did come to my place three days ago and even had a meal here before leaving. But I haven’t seen him since then.”

The leader was about to speak when he saw me push over four glasses of clear, colorless liquid, and a strong aroma of wine kept wafting into their nostrils.