A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

Their footsteps were slowed as much as possible, sneaking around like thieves.

"Is this really a good idea for us?" someone couldn't help but ask.

"What's wrong with that... didn't you see his package? It can hold anything!"

"If we had that, we wouldn't have to worry about food at all."

With a Bray pouch, you can safely store a large amount of food and never have to worry about finding something on a journey but not being able to bring it back.

"It's too wasteful for him to use it all by himself; this thing could have saved many people."

"He might have even more food on him."

People were talking quietly in the darkness, and every now and then there were strange swallowing sounds.

They had already set their sights on Bray in broad daylight.

There was no way around it; what Bray was carrying was too tempting—a pouch that could hold anything, and a large amount of food.

It's so selfish to use it all by yourself, so incredibly selfish.

Many people think this way and plan to take action.

Although the people in the camp were still grateful to Bray for telling them that "safe zones" existed in the world, that was another matter.

They could only take things from Bray, but they wouldn't harm him personally; that was their greatest gratitude to Bray.

Under the cover of night, almost a third of the people in the camp gathered together, preparing to surround Bray.

Atwood had given Bray a heads-up, but he probably hadn't expected the vagrants in these camps to be so outrageous.

Even though life was tough, Atwood still thought that people shouldn't have to learn from beasts.

Unfortunately, in such situations, people often choose to become like beasts.

The hunter was unaware that human nature can sometimes be no different from that of the wild animals he hunts.

---

"Whoosh—" The torch shone on a sleeping bag.

The sleeping bag was laid out flat, but no one was sleeping on it.

The man who should have been here, Bray, has vanished without a trace.

"What's going on? Wasn't he sleeping?" someone whispered.

"Yes...we haven't seen Him leave."

"How could they just disappear like that?"

"Go find him quickly and tell him he's missing," another person said, quick-wittedly.

That way, they won't be suspected, and they can later say that they were just looking for that stranger.

They didn't want to take advantage of each other's things; yes, they never had such a filthy thought.

So, the search for mines began in this camp.

However, they would never find Bray again, because Bray had silently left the camp before nightfall.

If Bray simply needs to conceal his presence, leaving this small camp will be no problem at all.

He never intended to sleep at this camp because it was far too dangerous.

To put it bluntly, at this time, people are more disgusting than monsters.

Bray didn't want to get into a conflict with those guys, so leaving early was the best option.

He left very discreetly, even on foot.

However, he couldn't run the whole way, so he switched to skateboarding halfway through.

This skateboard was truly the biggest contributor to my journey in Bray.

Without it, Bray doesn't know how many more days and nights he would have to walk.

“Beast…” Bray murmured, looking up with his hands in his pockets as he moved forward on his skateboard.

Most of the stars overhead were obscured by something unknown, leaving only a few stars staring back at Bray.

The night in the wilderness seemed especially mysterious.

Along with the mystery comes danger.

Many monsters deliberately hunt at night to avoid the Silver species' schedules.

If it weren't for the intimidating aura emanating from Bray, there would probably be a long line of monsters wanting to take him down.

Bray didn't take their malice to heart.

Although many people have died because of the malice of this group, this malice is fundamentally impossible to eliminate.

The person who spreads this malice is unaware that it is a blatant act of malice.

Among a group of people, they might actually feel that their current thoughts are normal.

If you were to pull any one of them out of there, he would probably calm down very quickly.

But if he doesn't pull himself out of it in a day, he won't be sober for a day.

Well, personally, I sincerely wish them success in finding the safe zone.

Atwood was also a wanderer, but he was out of place... he seemed to have a somewhat "otherworldly" air about him.

Just like how he survived in the forest, he would survive in the wasteland in the same way; there was no difference between the two for him.

It will not be more difficult, nor will it be more hopeless.

Despite his eccentric personality, he seemed to be a good person.

If that wanderer's camp were full of people like that, Bray might have been able to get a good night's sleep there. Bray could rely on the glow from his waist to provide some illumination, so he wouldn't have to fumble around in the dark.

After reaching a relatively safe place, Bray leaned against a tree and turned his sleeping bag out.

He planned to start a fire on the spot and then rest there, but he could only get light sleep.

Humans are just as terrifying as monsters, not because their strength is as terrifying as monsters', but because their malice is no less than that of any monster.

In fact, it has always been like this: the human heart is always more terrifying than monsters.

However, this phenomenon is amplified infinitely in the wasteland.

But people aren't always bad; most of the guys Bray met along the way were good people.

Bray began to rub sparks with the flint in his hand.

But he stopped halfway through rubbing.

"Ahem..." A familiar face stood in front of Bray and cleared his throat.

This acquaintance wasn't very close; they'd only known each other for less than a day. And this person was none other than Atwood.

An elf hunter whose name means "one who lives in the forest".

In terms of the hunter profession, Atwood can definitely be considered Bray's predecessor.

“What a coincidence,” Atwood said, then sat cross-legged near the unlit campfire directly in front of Bray.

“…” Bray pondered for a long time.

"You've come here?"

"Just a campfire, no need," Atwood said without even blinking.

---

The flames crackled and popped as the wood burned.

Bray and Atwood sat facing each other, watching the campfire glow with an orange-yellow light.

The temperature drops sharply at night, and it's impossible to fall asleep without a campfire.

Moreover, without fire, many snakes and insects would come and peck at the homeless.

Although there will still be fire if you light a campfire, it's much safer than not lighting one at all.

"Why don't you start a fire yourself?" Bray asked, annoyed.

“I don’t have anything as convenient as yours,” Atwood said enviously, pointing to the flint next to Bray.

"So how do you usually start a fire...?"

“Making fire by friction, isn’t that common sense?” Atwood said casually, as if Bray had asked a particularly rude question.

"So this is common sense?"

“Yes, that’s common sense,” Atwood said with unusual certainty.

"By the way, why are you sleeping alone again? Weren't you in that camp?"

"There are people on night watch there, wouldn't you sleep more soundly than if you slept outdoors on your own?" Atwood asked.

When he asked this question, he never considered that he was in the same situation.

"I almost got robbed by the people in the camp, I'm too scared to sleep." Bray shook his head helplessly.

Bray had originally thought that as long as those guys traded with him properly and didn't pull off a robbery, he would feel comfortable staying.

Unexpectedly, those guys actually started pulling some tricks, launching a surprise robbery at night.

Fortunately, Bray anticipated this situation and slipped away in advance; otherwise, he would have been stabbed in the back.

It would be hilarious if I didn't die at the hands of a Silver Being, but instead was tricked and killed by someone who was just an ordinary person.

I reckon the demigod will wake up in the middle of the night, then laugh and say, "I laughed so hard my abs broke."

"Then you're really in a bad situation. What did you do to make someone want to rob you?" Atwood was taken aback.

Bray doesn't look like someone worth robbing, so why would anyone think of robbing Bray?

“Because of this.” Bray casually demonstrated the function of his waist bag, or to be more professional, “Uranus’s Backpack.”

"Good stuff." Atwood exclaimed upon seeing the fanny pack that looked like a four-dimensional pocket, and then that was it.

Just like when he first heard about the Mimicry Beast, he didn't have any particular feelings.

Even now that he knows about the fanny pack in Bray's hand, he's still the same.

Atwood gives the overall impression that he has no greed.

No, he still has greed, and it's particularly obvious.

"Is there meat to eat?" Atwood asked, drooling.

Such flashy but impractical things held no appeal for him; what truly captivated him was flesh.

If Atwood had a bow, he wouldn't have to worry about not having meat to eat, but the problem is he doesn't.

Although he could try to make it himself, there are few forests nearby, and finding suitable wood in the barren terrain is quite difficult.

Atwood doesn't know magic and doesn't have a sharp knife, so asking him to make a bow is asking too much.

Some might say that using a stone instead of a knife would be better, but in reality, it's not that simple to do.

Atwood, who hasn't hunted in a long time, now craves meat at the sight of it.

“Yes…” Bray looked at Atwood with a hint of disdain, thinking that the elf’s pursuit was really low-level.

If he were a female elf, Bray might find it endearing.

But a male elf, indeed, doesn't smell good.

Bray had long ago ruled out the possibility of a man dressing as a woman, because his sharp mind could "see" it immediately.

No cross-dressing master can fool Bray with cuteness.

“I don’t want to freeload off you,” Bray said as he took out the meat.

“Just a little bit of meat,” Atwood thought Bray was stingy.

"Monster hunting takes a lot of time." Hunting is not strenuous for Bray, but it is time-consuming.

"..." Atwood tilted his head, pinched his chin, and began to ponder.

He was a homeless man in the wasteland, and apart from his worn-out cloak and water bag, he seemed to have nothing of value.

“How about I teach you how to minimize your presence?” Atwood said to Bray, suddenly having an idea.