Demon Hunter and His Cabin Chapter 39 - 039: Pain Potion

Chapter 39: Chapter 039: Pain Potion

The funeral service was over, and Roger did not find any clues at the Simpson residence. However, the trip wasn’t entirely fruitless. Not long after leaving, Roger received a check that soone from Sherman had sent over.

$3000.

The US Dollar is the official currency of the Federal Governnt of Arnia, the country where Roger was now living, and its purchasing power was almost equivalent to that of Arica in his forr life.

$3000 might not be a huge sum, but to a high school student, it was undoubtedly a windfall.

In the recent period, Roger had been scrimping and saving, spending all the pocket money Adeline had given him, yet there were still many things he hadn’t acquired. With this sum of money, his financial situation would be much more comfortable for quite so ti to co.

In this respect, Roger felt no sha whatsoever.

...

Having taken leave from school, Amanda naturally didn’t need to attend classes, so after the two of them returned ho, they sorted through the clues in hand again. But after much discussion, they still ca up empty.

Amanda had originally intended to ask Betty to co and discuss together, but after making a call, she found out that Betty had left Baytown the day before. It seed that she couldn’t stand the gossip at school and transferred to another place.

Roger had initially planned to hide in his room and engage in quiet ditation, but after giving it so thought, he changed his mind.

Now that he had money and a girl at his side, it would be a disservice to the $3000 he had knocked together if he didn’t go out and have a good ti.

True luxury was beyond his reach, but buying a few dresses for a young lady and then having a nice al together was entirely doable.

Although Amanda had criticized Roger’s previous actions, she ate her al with a clear conscience, by her own account.

“Roger, asking Mr. Sherman for money like this is wrong,” she said.

“But there’s no problem with spending your money,” she added.

Despite this, Amanda chose only the cheapest departnt store clothes and their al was just a common fast food fare.

All their expenses combined didn’t even compare to what she spent on the toys for Little Jack.

She was simply enjoying the process and wasn’t truly greedy for money.

Roger listened, dumbstruck.

It seed that thick skin really was contagious; the redhead girl had learned the essence of it in less than a day.

To be honest, Amanda could indeed be considered a standard beauty—fair-skinned, pretty-faced, and with a character beyond reproach.

“But what a pity…”

Roger couldn’t help but sigh.

“Pity she’s not a female sorceress…”

Leonardo wouldn’t want anyone but a supermodel, and as a Demon Hunter, my standards should be a bit higher, right?

“Hmm… a female sorceress, that’s the basic requirent.”

“Actually, a slightly beautiful Banshee wouldn’t be out of the question either.”

“And human females?”

“They would, of course, be a definitive no… possible.”

Roger silently thought to himself.

Although he was strolling around outside, Roger kept discreetly scanning his surroundings. He quickly locked onto a generic car and then, after a while, noticed a burly man with a red face who was sowhat conspicuous.

Had he not been deliberately searching, he would have never noticed the man’s presence.

“Hehe, keep following, let’s see who outlasts whom,” Roger thought to himself.

All day, Roger wandered around, dragging the red-faced man behind him everywhere he went.

When they returned ho in the evening, Roger made various small movents around his room, seemingly ready to head out at any mont.

But as the night deepened, he made no move.

When bedti arrived and Roger turned off the light, just as the Burly Man thought he might get a bit of rest, the desk lamp in the second-floor room quietly turned on again.

The Burly Man gathered his energy and kept a careful watch.

Half an hour, one hour.

The light in the room went out.

Nothing happened.

He yawned wearily, his eyes fighting to stay open, but just as he was dozing off, the light in the second-floor room ca on again.

The burly man forced himself to stay alert.

This ti the light went out quickly, in about five minutes, and the room was plunged into darkness once more.

Went to take a pee?

Having been stirred awake a few tis, the red-faced burly man was becoming exhausted, his vigilance waning, his eyes half-closed.

He didn’t know how much ti had passed when he suddenly opened his eyes, and all was quiet around him, the second floor still dim.

“Must have fallen asleep,” he thought.

The burly man found a comfortable position and drifted off to sleep.

anwhile, Roger had quietly climbed down from the window of the other bathroom, circled around, and headed straight for the distant woods.

Having delayed for a whole day, he had to take care of the heart.

Not wasting any ti on the way, Roger hurried back to the cabin in the woods at the fastest pace he could manage. Perhaps thanks to so concealnt attribute of the Hunter’s Cabin, even after a whole day, the wolf heart and eyes were still fresh.

Turning on the light in the room, he began to process the materials in his hands in the dimly lit space.

“When I have ti later, I’ll make sure to install a generator no matter what. This light is really testing my skills.”

One hour later, having used up all the flesh and blood, Roger finally obtained the first batch of Pain Potions.

In the transparent test tube was a viscous liquid as thick as blood.

“How effective is this thing?”

“Should I give it a try?”

There were about six to seven hours left until dawn; ti was tight.

He hesitated only for a mont before making up his mind.

Although the situation seed calm at the mont, with Ivy and Sherman both watching like tigers ready to pounce, being without the strength to protect himself was far too dangerous.

“At most, I’ll be late going back.”

With that thought, he hesitated no longer. First, he threw back a Concentration Potion, then uncorked the red liquid and downed it in one gulp.

Mixed with the scent of blood and the strange sll of herbs, Roger almost vomited his dinner right then and there.

“I don’t feel anything?”

He swung the wooden stick in his hand around. “This Pain Potion isn’t painful at all—”

The next second, a tidal wave of excruciating pain suddenly hit him. His body staggered and Roger fell to the ground with a thud.

“Ah!”

He let out a scream, rolling on the ground in agony, but the more he moved, the more pain he felt; it was as if every muscle fiber was being torn apart, crushed, and then put back together.

Rembering the description of the Pain Potion, Roger struggled to calm himself, but the spasms and disintegration of his muscles made him lose complete control over his body.

He convulsed on the ground like a catfish, and the Concentration Potion amplified the effect; he even felt as if it hurt just to breathe.

“I’m going to die, I’m going to die!”

The pain was beyond Roger’s imagination, and with his brain overwheld by the excessive stimulation, he was on the verge of collapse and unconsciousness.

But the Concentration Potion kept his mind stubbornly clear, leaving him helpless to endure all the pain.

Veins bulging on his forehead, his eyes bloodshot, Roger felt as though he might die at any mont, the process so prolonged that he experienced for the first ti the excruciating transformation of a Demon Hunter.

He suddenly recalled a dialogue in the training manual.

“Have you ever felt pain?”

“Yes.”

“No, you haven’t.”