A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

Since a young orc has appeared here, it means that he should be within the territory of the Shahjaman chieftain.

---

It's really difficult for three people to climb out of the same pit.

It only takes a second to jump in, but it took a full fifteen minutes to climb out.

After coming out, Bray's coat, which he had just washed, was covered in mud again.

There were clumps of mud mixed in with the gaps in his hair, but luckily he didn't bite into any mud.

"What was that thing you guys were spraying just now?" Bray asked curiously after coming out.

The two boys looked at each other, Bray's question was a bit...unexpected.

A normal person wouldn't ask what the spray is at this point, right?

"That's for mimicking the smell of soil," the lion-like boy said, holding the spray bottle, seemingly wanting to spray it on Bray to demonstrate.

"Don't spray it randomly, it's expensive, you idiot lion!" The wolf boy quickly stopped him and snatched the spray.

"Imitate the smell of soil?" Bray was full of questions. Was the smell of soil really that good?

This was the first time Bray had ever heard of this; he had always thought that soil should be "fragrant," as the poet had described.

"That guy had a very keen sense of smell. If we hadn't used this, we would have been wiped out." The wolf boy shrugged, carefully putting away the spray, as if he were wary of Bray stealing it.

"A keen sense of smell?" Bray pinched his chin, and suddenly he understood why that guy was chasing him.

It turns out that I attracted this guy because I was grilling meat.

"Now that you've finished asking your questions, it's our turn to ask you some," the wolf boy said, arms crossed, looking Bray up and down.

“Ask away.” Bray could easily tell that the wolf was the dominant one among the two boys.

Generally speaking, aren't lions supposed to be more ferocious? Why does Bray think the wolf pack is more impressive?

Bray actually had more questions, but given the other party's kindness, he let them ask first.

"You must be a scavenger, right?" the wolf boy said, mistaking Bray for someone from the neighborhood.

He couldn't possibly have imagined that Bray was a traveler.

“Scavenging? I used to, but not anymore.” After a few seconds of contemplation, Bray answered the boy’s question in a very urban manner.

"Now I am the messenger." He added, fearing the boy might not understand.

Unexpectedly, this statement only made people more confused.

"Messenger? What the hell?" The wolf boy didn't speak, but the fat lion behind him murmured in a low voice.

"I don't care if you're a scavenger or a messenger," the wolf boy cleared his throat.

“Since we just saved your life, you should pay us.” He said it in a matter-of-fact manner, like a vendor in the market talking about “fair trade.”

“Give us 20% of what you picked up,” he said, holding up two fingers.

"..." Bray remained silent for a long time. He was thinking that if he gave 20% of the contents of his pocket to the two orc boys, he would be at a huge loss.

No, no, that won't do.

"Here are some things for you." Bray reached into his fanny pack and began searching for something.

"Ah, found it." He said, pulling a broken magic gun from his pouch.

He placed the gun in his hand and pretended to be shooting.

"If this thing is fixed, it should be worth a lot of money. After all, it's a good weapon for self-defense." After playing with it for a while, Bray tossed the gun to the werewolf boy.

"A magic-magic gun!?" The werewolf boy caught the gun in a fluster, his tongue practically lolling out in surprise. "It's a magic gun, but like I said, it's just junk." Seeing the werewolf boy's astonished reaction, Bray raised an eyebrow.

Is this really something to make such a fuss about?

"With a little repair, it should be usable. If you don't have the money to repair it, I think quite a few people would be willing to buy it," said Bray, who is very knowledgeable about the subject.

As a wasteland junk collector, Bray knows the market for buying and selling junk like the back of his hand.

"Consider this your reward for helping me."

"Take this and keep it safe." The wolf boy tossed the discarded magic gun to the fat lion.

When the fat man caught the gun, his flustered and clumsy manner was exactly the same as that of the wolf boy before.

“You don’t have any more questions, do you?” Bray said.

"That's all." The wolf boy beamed, clearly pleased with the value of the magic gun.

Did Bray not know? Of course he knew, which is why he felt a little pained.

“Then I have a few more questions to ask,” Bray said to the two orc boys.

"What do you want to ask?"

"You all look completely incapable of protecting yourselves, how dare you leave the safe zone?"

These two orc boys weren't some exceptionally talented individuals who could slay dragons and gods in their teens...

Why would they dare to leave the safe zone? If they were to be influenced by preconceived notions, they would regret it too late.

“Who said we don’t have any?” Little Fatty Lion stepped forward and pointed to the spray bottle.

"Okay." It seems we won't get any useful information out of them.

Only when they can't even survive in the safe zone will these two kids choose to leave the safe zone and take a gamble.

"If you can take me to the safe zone, I can continue to pay you."

"You don't know where the safe zone is?" The wolf boy thought that Bray was from the Shahjaman chieftain's side.

I initially mistook him for someone from the local safe zone, but it turns out he wasn't.

People from other places—that's even more surprising than two little kids venturing into the wasteland.

“Hey, sir, are you from another safe zone?” the boy tried to ask.

“Yes, the previous stop was Anjing City,” Bray replied.

"Anjing City?? Which city in that direction are you talking about?" The wolf boy pointed in a certain direction, looking astonished.

Bray didn't speak, he just nodded.

The boy shrank back, his expression one of disbelief.

“If you lead me to a place to stay, I can hunt a monster for you.”

Bray thought for a moment, and realized that the only thing left to give to these two brats without causing them any trouble was prey.

"You?" The wolf boy looked at Bray suspiciously, doubting the credibility of Bray's words.

Although this deal is very attractive... whether it will go through is another question.

“Yes, it’s me.” Bray ignored the boy’s doubts and said calmly.

You can't exactly make him shout at those two kids, "I'm really awesome, don't you believe me?"

Let alone others, even Bray himself would be embarrassed if he actually shouted that out.

Let's get more practical.

For example, using a knife.

About half an hour later, the two orc boys' doubts about Bray completely turned into admiration.

"Uncle, you're really good at fighting!" the wolf boy said excitedly.

After watching the entire hunting process, his opinion of the disheveled man completely changed.

"But even you, Uncle, were struggling to deal with that rolling cylinder."

“…” Bray fell silent. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle the roller, but rather that he was too lazy to deal with it.

The reason he was so desperately trying to escape was entirely because those two brats had pulled him into the pit.

Running away by yourself would be much easier; you wouldn't even need that spray.

“Actually…” Bray hesitated before continuing.

"I see, sir, you're the kind of adventurer who specializes in finding food, right?"

“…” Bray swallowed his words back; he had already said he was a messenger.

Bray silently built a campfire and roasted the monster he had just killed.

This time it's a monster that looks like an eel with legs; I wonder what will happen if I eat it.

He had seen this kind of thing in the market when he was in Anjing City, so theoretically it should not be poisonous.

But he couldn't say how it would taste.

This thing is so slippery; it took me more than ten times longer to chase it than to kill it. I hope it doesn't let my efforts go to waste.

"Ah, I guessed it. Uncle, you were being chased by that rolling drum because you watched the barbecue before, right?" The boy suddenly thought of it and spoke up subconsciously.

"It should be..." The kid actually guessed right.

"Aren't you afraid? I'm grilling meat here, and that guy might turn around at any moment," Bray asked the wolf boy with interest.

The fat lion was completely uninterested in chatting with strangers; he just stared longingly at the meat on the campfire.

My mouth is watering; the temptation of food is clearly greater.

"That guy can roll at an incredible speed. After so much time, I doubt anyone knows where he is."

"Is that so?" Bray nodded casually.

"You are not being cautious enough."

"You have no means of retaliating, so it's best to minimize the possibility of attracting monsters as much as possible," Bray said to the two orc boys, bored out of his mind.

However, while he was grilling meat, his words carried no weight whatsoever.

"Uh..." The two boys looked at each other, speechless.

---

The fat lion carried the monster's unfinished meat and fur on its shoulders, walking in the middle.

The prey was wrapped in leaves and strips of cloth, and it was to be preserved in the appropriate way after returning home.

The wolf boy was leading the way, while Bray was at the very back.

Halfway through their journey, the two boys stopped.

Because they had already arrived at their destination.

What caught Bray's eye were buildings that resembled those of a tribal community.

Animal hides, bones, and simple wooden structures formed the safe zone.

To enhance the structure, various primitive-looking runes are engraved on the materials.

On the outermost edge of the safe zone, there are basically no well-formed buildings; they are mostly used for temporary refuge or defense against external enemies.

It's not hard to imagine that if a silver-type creature were to arrive, this place would be reduced to ashes in an instant.

Despite this, many people still live there tenaciously, and have lived there to this day.

“Welcome to Claw Fortress.” The wolf boy stood at the edge of the safe zone and said to Bray with his arms outstretched.

Claw Fortress was the former name of the location of this safe zone.

"You can stay at our house, as long as you give us the things," the wolf boy said slyly, narrowing his eyes.

There are neither the "Great Enemy of God" nor the Bronze Age here.

A big reason is that it's not needed here.

It's not that the people here are particularly strong, it's just that they are really lucky.

The Silver Clan had visited, but they showed no interest in them whatsoever, instead heading towards larger cities.

At most, a part of the edge area was accidentally destroyed; the area within the safe zone was not seriously affected.

Therefore, the support received here is minimal, which in a sense is another kind of misfortune.

Luck and misfortune are always intertwined; without support, the people of Claw Fortress had to rely on themselves to build it.

This also resulted in a backward style that resembled that of a primitive tribe.