Facing the tall, gaunt man before him, Ravel, out of a young noble’s pride, forced himself not to appear intimidated.

  “Yes, that’s right. So, you wish to apply for this position, sir?”

  There was a faint metallic tang of blood about the man that Ravel couldn’t quite place, only that it made him vaguely uncomfortable.

  At Ravel’s words, the man’s narrow eyes opened a little wider as he glanced around. “This doesn’t look like a slaughterhouse. Is this really where the work takes place?”

  Ravel thought to himself, How should I know? But he replied calmly, “That’s not your concern. The boss will explain everything. For now, I just need to confirm whether or not you’re taking the job.”

  “You’re not the boss?” the man asked, a bit surprised.

  “I never said I was,” Ravel rolled his eyes. “So—do you want the job or not?”

  The tall man reached into his pocket, turning slightly away as he took out a few copper coins. He sighed deeply before facing Ravel again. “Of course. I need this job very much.”

  Ravel straightened the pale-yellow paper on the desk and began formally, “Good. Then I’ll need to confirm a few details. First question: are you ill, sir?”

  The man shook his head. “No. I’m perfectly healthy.”

  “Fine. Have you ever worked in this field before—as a butcher?”

  “I was one long ago. A well-known one in my town.”

  “Long ago? So you stopped later? Why?”

  “I heard from a friend that the main city was hiring many workers. The pay was good—food and lodging included—and the work was said to be easy. So, I went.”

  “Then why did you come back?”

  “Because it was all a lie. Those factory owners were bloodsuckers, each worse than the last! They squeezed every bit of value out of you. The pay might have been high, but I couldn’t stand it anymore—so I came here.”

  Ravel nodded, gradually slipping into the role Glen had taught him before leaving—the tone, the questions, the detached professionalism. He was beginning to feel quite accomplished, almost mature. People my age are still sitting in classrooms playing childish games between lessons, he thought smugly. But I—I’m already a grown man.

  Keeping up his composed demeanor, he continued, “From what you said, you’re not from this area. Why come here for work?”

  A flash of bitterness crossed the man’s face. “The town I used to live in already had its butcher. And I couldn’t afford to buy livestock—most of my savings went into purchasing a new house. I had no way to make a living there.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Ravel scribbled something on the paper—nonsense, really—but it made him look convincingly professional.

  “Alright then. You’re the only qualified candidate today. Wait here for a while—the boss should be here around four or five in the afternoon.”

  Hearing that, the tall man let out a sigh of relief and found a seat.

  From his sleeve, the faint gleam of a blade slipped into view. On the dagger’s surface, a tiny eye blinked open and darted about, before the man calmly tucked the weapon back out of sight.

  As evening drew near, the woods beyond Bayek grew livelier than usual, thanks to the group of spirited youths. They wandered about with wide-eyed curiosity, guided and guarded by the great beast, Night Howl.

  Most of the time, though, they were put to work. Though they lacked the skill for technical tasks, they were strong enough for labor. Glen was more than happy to make use of the free workforce—under his direction, the entire pigpen was practically rebuilt.

  But none of the youngsters seemed to mind. On the contrary, they laughed and worked with infectious enthusiasm. Even the haughty noble girl joined in, pride gleaming in her eyes as she labored. Yet the moment Glen’s gaze met hers, she stiffened and pretended indifference.

  If only all my employees were this easy to manage, Glen thought wistfully.

  When the sun began to dip, he called out, “Alright, good work everyone. It’s getting late. I’ll take you back shortly—and each of you will receive a small gift. How’s that sound?”

  “A gift!?” exclaimed Bork, eyes wide with delight.

  The others brightened with the same eager expectation.

  Without further teasing, Glen left them for a moment, heading to the lumber shed. When he returned, he carried a wicker basket filled with something curious—large-headed wooden carvings.

  “Oh my gosh! How adorable!” Bonnie clapped her hands over her mouth, bouncing excitedly on her toes.

  At first, they marveled at the exaggerated proportions of the figures—but the longer they looked, the more charming they became.

  “This one looks just like Laila—only smaller!” cried Myer, sharp-eyed as ever.

  At his words, everyone took a closer look—and sure enough, the carving’s clothes matched exactly what Laila was wearing that day.

  The face, of course, was simplified into the rounded, stylized features of a cartoon—but to these young folk who had never seen such art, the resemblance was unmistakable.

  Laila, blushing furiously, longed to snatch it from Glen’s hands.

  Seeing how much they all loved it, Glen passed the carving to her, and she accepted it as though it were a priceless treasure.

  “Mr. Glen, what about ours?” Bonnie asked impatiently.

  “Don’t worry—there’s one for each of you.”

  He had carved them earlier while the youths explored the forest. To his strong, clawed hands, wood felt as soft as foam—each piece had taken less than an hour.

  One by one, Glen handed out the figures, each carved with the likeness and personality of its owner—poses inspired by the game and anime illustrations he remembered from his previous life.

  When it came to Pernas, the golden-haired noble girl, Glen feigned surprise. “Oh? You want one too? I didn’t make yours.”

  Her lips trembled in outrage, and tears welled in her eyes—a storm was clearly brewing.

  “Wait, wait! I’m kidding!” Glen hurriedly produced the last carving.

  She snatched it from his hand with a huff and shot him a withering glare.

  The group chattered excitedly, comparing their wooden miniatures, laughing and teasing one another.

  After a while, Glen called them to the road and hitched his deer-drawn cart. Everyone climbed aboard—everyone except Pernas, who hesitated before reluctantly joining the rest.

  With a flick of the reins, the cart set off toward Dood Town. All the way, the young passengers continued admiring their big-headed wooden doubles, showing them off and comparing details with delight.

  By the time the sun sank low, they had reached town. Each of them politely bid Glen farewell—even Pernas, who blushed as she murmured a soft “goodbye.”