— “Let it go… let it go… open door… let it go-o…” — I hummed softly to myself as I loosened the soil and pulled weeds.

  Turns out, on the other side of the village lie small fields where they grow vegetables—the staple of the locals’ diet.

  According to Granny Brin, this particular plant yields harvest year-round and repels rinki with its scent, making it the only crop they’ve managed to cultivate near those monsters.

  I’ve been working Brin’s plot to repay my lodging and slowly blend into the community.

  When she learned I couldn’t speak, she was delighted.

  When she realized I could labor from dawn till dusk without rest, I swear I saw a flicker of pure joy in those yellow eyes.

  In return, I get a roof over my head and a bowl of porridge morning and night.

  If I were alive, I’d probably protest such treatment—but as I am, it suits me perfectly.

  After finishing the entire plot and double-checking I hadn’t missed anything, I headed back to the village.

  The sun was turning red, sinking slowly below the horizon.

  At the gate, I waved to the guards—Pole and Rick, as always. They never rotate with anyone else, but then again, their job isn’t exactly demanding.

  — “How’d it go in the fields?” Pole asked. “You left right at sunrise—bet you tilled the whole thing twice over?”

  I shrugged vaguely and nodded. It had been a long day—but my body let me work efficiently, without fatigue.

  — “Heading back to Granny Brin?” Rick said, lowering his voice. “Be careful. Adventurers showed up today—and since her place is the only inn, they’ve all been sent there. They look strong… and dangerous.”

  Unexpected news.

  Real adventurers.

  I hope they don’t notice anything… unusual about me.

  Lost in thought, I nodded to the guards and made straight for Brin’s.

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  On the way, I passed a few villagers—they seemed calm, just weary from fieldwork. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  As I approached the tavern, light spilled from the windows of the ground-floor dining room.

  I hesitated at the door.

  Then, steeling myself, I pushed it open and stepped inside.

  Immediately, I spotted a group of five:

  — A bearded man, as tall as Pole;

  — A petite young woman in a wide-brimmed hat;

  — A cocky fellow with his boots propped on a chair;

  — And a pair of twins—a young man and woman—standing side by side.

  They gave me a brief, assessing glance… then returned to their conversation as if I were just another shadow.

  — “This assignment is utter nonsense from the Guild Master,” the cocky one was saying. “We trek all the way out here just to inspect? Inspect! Who does that? Send Stax’s squad or Grindo’s patrol. Hell, even a Bronze team would’ve sufficed—but us? The whole group?! Ridiculous.”

  — “The captain said it, so it must be done,” the twin girl cut in.

  — “Or do you want a repeat of last time—running from Lilac Panthers until Drodul dragged your sorry hide to safety?”

  — “That was once! And I didn’t expect them to be that strong! But a scouting mission? That’s beneath us. Admit it, Bery,” he turned to the girl in the hat.

  — “Actually, I’m glad,” she said softly, her voice calm and pleasant. “Finally, a quiet job. No killing. Just rest in a village.”

  — “Ugh, screw you…”

  I stopped listening there.

  My eyes had found Granny Brin behind the counter.

  Her yellow gaze tracked the adventurers like a hawk watching mice.

  I approached and waved in greeting.

  — “Back already? You’re earlier than usual. Something wrong with the field?” Her eyes flicked over me—then snapped back to the group.

  I shook my head: nothing’s wrong.

  I tried to mime that I’d finished the work—but my gesture failed.

  All I could think of was giving a thumbs-up.

  — “You finished the field?” Her eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s at least two weeks of labor!”

  I just nodded.

  — “No food left. These lot ate it all,” she said, her gaze darting to the adventurers again. “Porridge won’t be ready till morning.”

  The news didn’t trouble me—but to avoid seeming odd, I rubbed my stomach and slumped my shoulders, feigning mild disappointment.

  Then, draped in theatrical melancholy, I trudged upstairs to my room…

  and lay down on the straw mattress to wait for dawn.