Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 521 117.3 - Second Mission

"This is it," he said, his voice flat. He cast a disdainful glance at the house, his lips curling slightly as if the very sight of it repulsed him. "I\'m going to leave now. I don\'t want any part of this."

I watched him for a moment, noting the emotions playing across his face—disgust, fear, and a deep-seated hatred. It was clear that whatever lay behind his feelings toward this family was deeply ingrained, perhaps fueled by years of isolation and suspicion.

\'Interesting… fear, hatred, and something else… a deep sense of rejection.\'

He turned and walked away without another word, leaving me standing alone at the edge of the porch. I watched him go, then turned my attention back to the house.

The air here was different—calmer, almost serene.

I stepped up to the door and knocked firmly, my hand steady against the wood. There was a brief pause, and then the door creaked open just enough to reveal a young boy, no older than fifteen, with a stern expression on his face. His eyes were sharp and unwelcoming, and his posture suggested that visitors were neither common nor particularly desired.

"What do you want?" he asked curtly, his voice edged with suspicion.

"I\'m Astron Natusalune," I replied, my tone even and professional. "I\'ve been sent to investigate the situation in Shange Town. I\'m here to ask a few questions about your field. It seems to be the only one that hasn\'t been affected by whatever\'s happening."

"What a weird name." The boy\'s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied me. "We\'re not interested," he said bluntly, starting to close the door.

I quickly placed my hand against the door, holding it open just enough to prevent him from shutting it completely. "This is important," I insisted, my voice firm but not aggressive. "You may not think it matters now, but what if the same thing happens to your field? Once it\'s gone, how will your mother continue to make the ointments she uses to make a living?"

While their field also had Moonberries, there were also some other herbs growing there. I took a note on them while looking at them, and there I can easily say that the mother is indeed an herbalist.

The boy hesitated, the door half-closed, as he considered my words. His stern expression softened just a fraction, the reality of the situation sinking in. He knew, as well as anyone, that if their field were to fall prey to the same fate as the others, their livelihood would be in serious jeopardy.

The boy hesitated, the door half-closed, as he considered my words. His stern expression softened just a fraction, the reality of the situation sinking in. He knew, as well as anyone, that if their field were to fall prey to the same fate as the others, their livelihood would be in serious jeopardy.

After a tense moment, he let out a small sigh and opened the door wider, stepping aside to let me in. "Fine," he said, his tone grudging but resigned. "You can come in, but don\'t take too long. My mother isn\'t well."

As I stepped, I naturally took a look around the house. The interior of the house was modest but clean, with the scent of herbs and medicinal plants filling the air.

It was clear that the boy and his mother lived simply, relying on the land and their knowledge of healing to sustain themselves.

As I followed the boy further into the house, I could sense the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

He was young, but there was a hardness to him that spoke of someone who had been forced to grow up quickly, likely due to the circumstances surrounding his family.

"Wait here," the boy said, leading me to a small sitting room. "I\'ll get my mother."

As I waited, I couldn\'t help but notice the small details around the room—shelves lined with jars of herbs, a mortar and pestle on the table, and a few well-worn books on medicinal practices, though most of them were old ones.

It wasn\'t long before the boy returned, leading his mother into the room. The moment she entered, I could sense her presence—a gentle, calming aura that seemed to fill the space around her.

She moved with grace, though it was clear from the slight tremor in her steps and the pallor of her skin that she was not in the best of health.

As she approached, I noted several telltale signs of her condition. Her skin had a slight yellowish tint, indicative of jaundice, likely due to liver dysfunction.

The faint puffiness around her eyes and the slow, deliberate way she moved suggested a chronic illness, perhaps something that had been wearing her down for years.

The way she occasionally pressed a hand to her side hinted at discomfort or pain in her abdomen, reinforcing my suspicion that her liver might be the source of her ailment.

Despite her condition, she offered me a warm, genuine smile as she gracefully took a seat across from me. There was no trace of animosity or suspicion in her demeanor—just a quiet strength and kindness that seemed at odds with the disdain the townsfolk held for her.

"I\'m sorry if I kept you waiting," she said softly, her voice carrying a soothing, almost melodic tone.

I shook my head, offering a respectful nod. "There\'s no need to apologize. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me."

She smiled again, the gesture lighting up her tired features. "You\'re quite young to be sent on such an important task," she commented, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and mild surprise.

"I am younger than most would expect for this kind of work," I admitted. "But I assure you, I\'m here to help, and I take my responsibilities seriously."

Her eyes softened at my response, and she leaned back slightly, studying me with a kind of quiet wisdom. "Youth is often underestimated," she said, almost as if she were speaking from experience. "But I believe you have more than enough capability to do what you\'ve been sent here to do."

I appreciated her faith in me, though it was clear that she was a woman who had faced her own share of challenges in life. The way she carried herself, despite her obvious illness, spoke volumes about her resilience.

"Thank you," I replied, my tone sincere. "What should I call you?"

"Ah….I was rude….You can call me Maria."

"Miss Maria." Repeating the name, I started. "I\'ve been informed that your field is the only one in Shange Town that hasn\'t been affected by the blight. I\'d like to understand why that is, if possible. It could help us prevent the spread to other areas."

She nodded thoughtfully, her gaze turning inward as she considered my words. "Our field has been untouched, yes," she acknowledged. "But I\'m not sure why. I\'ve done nothing different than what I\'ve always done—tended to the plants with care and used the same herbs and remedies that my family has passed down for generations. Perhaps… it is simply luck."

\'A lie.\' As she spoke, I watched her carefully. The slight hesitation in her voice, the brief flicker of her eyes away from mine, and the almost imperceptible tension in her posture—these were all subtle signs that betrayed her words.

I could easily detect these small cues; the tells that people often unknowingly displayed when they weren\'t being entirely truthful.

Her insistence that it was simply luck rang hollow. No one who had experienced such consistent results, especially in the face of a widespread blight, would truly believe it was just chance. There was something she suspected, perhaps even something she knew, but she wasn\'t ready to share it.

I decided to shift my approach. If she was hiding something, pressing too hard might cause her to shut down completely or, worse, make her son even more defensive. I needed to reveal a bit of my own findings, something to show that I wasn\'t just here to ask questions but that I had already uncovered some unsettling truths.

"I understand that you might not be certain," I said, my tone gentle but firm. "But I\'ve been investigating the situation in Shange Town, and I\'ve found evidence that this blight isn\'t natural. The way the land is affected, the way the life force seems to be drained from the soil—it\'s not something that happens on its own."

I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a momentary widening that confirmed my suspicion. She knew something, but she was still reluctant to share it.

I leaned forward slightly, maintaining eye contact. "I\'m not here to accuse anyone or to disrupt your life. I\'m here to help. But to do that, I need to know if something happened in the past that could have caused this. Even if it seems unrelated, anything you can tell me might be the key to stopping this blight."

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of my words hanging in the air. The mother glanced at her son, who had been standing quietly by her side. His posture was tense, his eyes darting between his mother and me, clearly uneasy with the direction the conversation was taking.

Finally, she spoke, but her voice was more guarded than before. "I don\'t know… I can\'t think of anything that would cause this," she said, her tone carefully measured. But I could tell she was lying again—this time even more deliberately.

\'Something did happen,\' I concluded silently. The way she avoided my gaze, the slight tightness in her voice—it all pointed to the fact that she knew more than she was letting on. But whatever it was, she wasn\'t willing to share it, at least not yet.

I could sense the tension rising in the room, especially in the boy. His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw set as if ready to defend his mother from further questioning. Pushing any harder could risk alienating them completely.

I decided to ease off, knowing that sometimes patience was the better strategy. "I understand," I said calmly, standing up. "I won\'t press you further, but if you do think of anything—anything at all—please let me know. I\'m here to help, and I want to do everything I can to protect your field and the rest of Shange Town."

She nodded, a mixture of relief and guilt in her eyes as she rose to her feet as well. "Thank you," she murmured. "I\'ll… think about it."

I turned to the boy, who was watching me with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. "Take care of your mother," I said, offering a small nod. "And keep an eye on the field. If anything changes, don\'t hesitate to reach out."

The boy didn\'t respond, but he gave a slight nod, his expression softening just a fraction.

I took my leave, stepping out into the fresh air, the scent of herbs and earth still lingering around me.

"Sigh…..What a pain…."

This mission somehow turned into something similar to my first one. However, this time, since I was alone, I needed to act more. Nôv(el)B\\\\jnn

\'Well, not that it matters.\' With that, I started walking around town once again.