In the central plaza of the town, cold rain drummed relentlessly against the bluish-black stone tiles, reflecting a ghostly white light. At the heart of the square, a temporary platform made of thick wooden planks groaned and shuddered in the wind. Pike, now clad in a suit of gleaming chainmail, stood there with majestic posture—a far cry from the coward whose legs were shaking uncontrollably in the cellar just hours before.
At his feet, the black magic wolf was stone dead. Its dark red tongue lolled out between the gaps in the stone tiles, bleached slightly by the heavy rain. Its massive frame—larger than three men put together—and those dagger-like fangs were enough to strike terror into any heart through the blurry curtain of rain.
"Listen well, everyone! I, Pike, am the Hero spoken of in the Oracles!" Driven by the lingering effects of the green elixir, Pike's voice thundered like a war drum, his face flushing with an unnatural glow in the freezing rain. He brandished a gilded iron longsword, pointing the tip directly at the overcast sky as he roared at the crowd: "I shall save this world! I shall rescue the suffering masses! Every monster in my path will end up just like this rotten wolf!"
Beside him, a priest in blindingly white robes sprinkled "holy water" onto Pike's polished helmet with a look of practiced divinity. The townspeople, utterly duped by the spectacle, knelt in the mud, frantically chanting "Lord Hero!" Even the local mercenaries joined in the cheers, hoping to gain favor with this rising "legend."
The old Mayor stood by the side of the stage, wiping rain from his eyes. His thick lips trembled as he watched his son, who seemed transformed into a different person. A lingering doubt gnawed at his mind: Is this truly my boy? The lazy brat who couldn't even fix a donkey cart without complaining about his sore hands? Earlier, when he first heard Pike was a Hero, his first thought was that his ancestors' graves had caught fire with divine luck. But seeing Pike haul this giant wolf back through the city gates this morning... the shock was more powerful than a lightning strike.
The Mayor took a deep breath of the metallic, cold air, letting greed finally crush his remaining hesitation: Regardless of the truth, as long as Pike is the Hero, my position as Mayor is as solid as a mountain. Who would dare question my family's past now?
"My boy... you've finally made something of yourself!" The Mayor laughed through his tears, slapping his thighs in the rain.
Tsk, tsk... From a dark corner in the distance, a figure shrouded in black robes let out a thin, high-pitched laugh. The sound was swallowed by the rain, but it carried a venomous chill. Looking at the puppet "hero" on the stage, the man muttered to himself, "What a fine plaything..." Then, his silhouette vanished like a wisp of smoke.
Meanwhile, in a dark, damp underground warehouse behind the tavern—a place even stray dogs avoided.
Squeak!
Slow motion begins.
A pile of ancient grain shifted slightly. A clever, grey-furred rat darted out, only to be met by a swift, dark shadow. The movement wasn't fast, but it was terrifyingly precise. A pair of hands, covered in grime and dried blood, snatched the rat by its neck like a steel vice. Xiao Yu sat in the reeking shadows, his dead-fish eyes unblinking. With a sudden burst of force—CRACK—the rat's spine snapped, and its frantic struggle turned into instant silence.
"Six," Xiao Yu's voice was as flat as a stagnant pond. He tossed the warm carcass into a nearby broken wooden bucket that smelled of sour decay.
"Xiao Yu, I've had enough!" Mia huddled at the entrance where the leak was worst, her face pale with hunger and her lips as white as lime. "They're beating drums for a Hero out there, and the air smells like roasted meat, but here we are catching rats? I am a noble... ugh, if word of this ever gets back home, how am I supposed to survive?"
Xiao Yu wiped the cold rain from his chin, not even bothering to look up. His eyes remained fixed on a deep, foul-smelling rat hole in the corner.
"That armor Pike is wearing... it's worth at least a dozen gold coins. Enough for a lifetime of white bread," Mia grumbled, her voice bitter as she listened to the roar of the crowd in the plaza. "He kills one wolf, and the town kneels for his mercy. You catch a rat, and the woman at the counter treats you like you're the plague. Life in this world is cheap."
"The wolf is dead; the rats are alive," Xiao Yu said, his tone chillingly calm. "Pike is playing a 'Hero' out there; that's a lie. I'm catching 'life' in here; that's the money that keeps us breathing. Once this bucket is full, we'll have the last few coppers we need. Tomorrow morning, I'm taking you to the Guild to get F-Rank adventurer licenses. Only with those papers can we actually put down roots and take on real jobs."
Mia wanted to argue, but she saw Xiao Yu's soaked, brick-hard iron robe and his purple, freezing fingers. The words died in her throat.
"Four more, and we trade them for a pot of greasy meat broth today," Xiao Yu whispered, his voice carrying a stubborn, unyielding grit.
"BOOM! BANG!"
Several massive explosions shook the sky—expensive alchemical fireworks launched by the church to build hype. A few streaks of colorful light leaked through the warehouse's tiny vent, briefly illuminating Xiao Yu's grime-streaked face, the bucket of bloody rats, and Mia's pale, weary face.
The warehouse door vibrated from the roar of the celebration outside. Pike's heroic speech drifted in through the thick walls like a fever dream. In that moment, the corner of Xiao Yu's mouth twitched into a self-deprecating smirk. The fireworks couldn't reach this place, but as long as they could eat, the rain would eventually clear and the sun would rise again.