Gabriel returned to the Beginner Village under the warm light of dusk. The sky was painted in shades of orange and purple, stretching the shadows between the wooden and stone houses.
The streets were busier than usual. Groups of players moved back and forth among improvised stalls, street vendors, and missing persons boards filled with crossed-out nas.
Normally, Gabriel would have walked past without paying attention. This ti was different.
His gaze swept over the faces of those present with an unsettling clarity. He could see the subtle movent of blood beneath their skin, hear the hidden heartbeats, and feel the body heat emanating from each person.
For a fraction of a second, sothing uncomfortable stirred inside him.
Hunger.
It wasn’t ordinary hunger. It was primitive and savage. As if a beast within him viewed the other players as potential prey.
Gabriel kept his face completely impassive and continued walking. His steps were firm despite his exhaustion.
The experience inside the dungeon had left deeper aftereffects than he wanted to admit. Leviathan Gluttony had worked too well, absorbing enormous amounts of essence in a very short ti.
Now he was beginning to understand the true price.
As he moved through the village, the thirst ca and went in unpredictable waves. It wasn’t unbearable yet, but it was there. Latent and persistent.
He reached the comrcial area. The bustle of voices and the sll of tal, leather, and street food hit him.
His attention imdiately focused on business. He needed to convert all his loot into useful resources.
He took out the biological materials, bone fragnts, sharp claws, weapons obtained from the bandits, stolen jewels, and alchemical pieces. Everything was in high demand in the market.
He began selling thodically.
He didn’t accept the first offer, the second, or the third.
He compared prices at several stalls, listened to proposals, haggled coldly, and, when necessary, intimidated with his re presence covered in fresh scars.
"This is worth more and you know it," he said in a low voice to a rchant with nervous eyes and sweaty palms. "I risked my life for these reinforced Pseudo-Tyrant claws. Don’t insult with that asly amount."
After almost an hour of intense negotiations, he finished.
The interface glowed before him with satisfaction.
1 Gold Coin, 40 Silver Coins, and 200 Copper Coins.
Gabriel stared at the amount for several seconds. He even doubted the authenticity of the gold coin, observing its reflection in the sunlight.
Many players never got to hold a gold coin. Condemned to hear stories of wealth but never star in them.
It was the largest amount of money he had possessed since arriving in this world.
But far from showing it off, he made an imdiate decision. He stored everything in his inventory without displaying a single coin.
Wealth was extrely useful, but it also attracted problems. And he already had enough.
He left the market shortly after. His next destination was far more important.
The Alchemist’s Shop.
Upon entering, the thick sll of dried herbs, aromatic oils, and chemical reagents flooded his senses. The hunger stirred slightly, but he controlled it.
Behind the counter, an old man with a gray beard and tired eyes slowly looked up.
"What would you like to buy, young man?"
Gabriel didn’t respond with words. He placed a huge object on the wooden table.
The head of the Giant Pseudo-Tyrant.
The old man’s eyes widened slightly. His expression shifted from boredom to genuine surprise in an instant.
"Where did you get this?" he asked in a hoarse voice.
"I killed it," Gabriel replied simply.
The alchemist remained motionless.
For several seconds he said nothing. He only stared at the monstrous head and then at Gabriel, going back and forth.
Finally, his eyes narrowed.
"I see..." he murmured.
The old man seed to have understood sothing profound.
"So it’s you, the Butcher of Pseudo-Tyrants."
Those words broke the silence of the shop like a pin dropping.
"I’ve heard about your fa. If the rumors are true, you survived where others found their end."
The old man exhaled slowly, as if releasing an invisible weight. Then he opened an old drawer with trembling hands and took out a yellowish, ti-worn parchnt.
"I have a proposal," he said in a broken voice.
The parchnt showed a rudintary map and drawings of ancient ruins located far from the usual routes.
The old man explained that his son had disappeared years ago while trying to explore those forgotten ruins. He never returned.
His voice showed a vulnerability impossible to hide. He had gathered clues, rumors, and sightings over the years, but nothing conclusive.
His eyes fixed on Gabriel. There was hope... and fear. The fear of finally getting an answer, because that answer might be painful.
"If you find any information about my son... I will double the original reward," he promised.
The parchnt trembled between Gabriel’s fingers. The mont he touched it, he rembered the invisible pressure he had felt in front of the broken statue.
They were ancient ruins without precedent in his mory, promising possible hidden rewards and a high-value quest. But above all, he had an intuition.
The parchnt in his hands felt ancient and enduring, like a vestige that survives ti with a purpose. With runes strangely similar to those in the dungeon.
He couldn’t be wrong — in similarity and energy. The strokes seed to be identical imitations.
He imdiately decided to take it with a furrowed brow.
But he also observed the old man’s deep wrinkles, the anxiety in his trembling hands, and the expectations he had carried for so long. That trace of humanity struck him unexpectedly.
Finally, he stored the parchnt in his inventory.
"I accept," he said firmly.
The old man closed his eyes for a mont, as if he had released a weight he had carried for too long. A single tear escaped down his wrinkled cheek before he could control it.
anwhile, a new notification appeared silently in front of Gabriel.
_________________
Special Quest Unlocked!
[The Evil in the Ruins]
Difficulty: dium.
Reward: Unknown.
_________________
Gabriel felt a familiar tingle. There was sothing in those ruins that awakened his deepest interest.
Not only for the possible reward or the money, but for the mystery. For the secrets waiting among the ancient stones.
He left the alchemist’s shop under the increasingly dim light of twilight. The village continued to bustle around him, but he felt the weight of his hunger pulsing.
The thirst was still there.
More controlled now, but present.
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