Goblin Dependency
Chapter 89 - 64 Rainy Night

Chapter 89: Chapter 64 Rainy Night

The rain poured down in torrents.

The howling wind intertwined with the booming thunder that illuminated the night sky, swirling and spiraling above the heavens.

"Splash!"

A pair of worn-out leather shoes, treading for an unknown length of time, suddenly stomped down, stepping into a puddle by the roadside.

Instantly, countless dirty splashes mixed with reddish-black mud flew up.

Joey tightly wrapped himself in a burlap coat, wide like a cloak, covering his body.

His head drooped, with his cheeks hidden under the hood.

His feet didn’t stop for a moment.

He didn’t need to raise his head to find his way; he moved through the maze of alleys with the skill of a sewer rat.

With occasional leaks of moonlight through the rain and his fairly good vision.

He could clearly perceive that as he ventured deeper, the once hard stone-paved road underfoot gradually turned into a rough, loose gravel path, and finally, to a muddy dirt road.

From the corner of his eye, the orderly brick houses, previously lit with warm light, now turned into old wooden shacks with just blurry outlines in the dark, and tiny grass huts swaying and moaning in the wind and rain.

He didn’t stop.

This wasn’t his home.

Thinking back to years ago, Joey had a fairly reassuring place to live.

But after his parents died, it became the love nest of his uncle and aunt, making him feel more like an outsider.

Nothing worth remembering.

He didn’t know how much time had passed.

Until the stormy night’s darkness grew heavier, and the few lamps in the town gradually went out.

The two thin little legs stepping through the puddles finally stopped, deeply planted in the mud.

In front of him appeared a yellow-brown little tent patched everywhere.

"Home."

Wiping the mud clinging to the soles of his shoes on a stone beside him, Joey lifted the tent flap and quickly stepped inside.

He couldn’t help but heave a sigh of relief.

Though the tent top sagged a large chunk due to water accumulation, the tent’s material was quite resilient and did not leak.

Unexpectedly, a bit of happiness sprouted in his heart.

He moved a stool from the corner, stood on it on tiptoes, and gently pushed the sagging part with his right hand, letting the accumulated rain slide down the tent’s edges.

The fingertips tingled with cool, wet thickness.

Speaking of which, this tent was a gift from Ingram.

Rumor had it that it came from a long-retired adventurer who seemed to be in urgent need of money, resulting in Joey getting it cheap.

He couldn’t help recalling the sheriff’s frowning face scolding him earlier.

Joey pursed his lips.

Though it was mostly useless, he knew the other person had always been helping him.

To some extent, he often took advantage of this relationship between them.

He pulled out a piece of recently bought black bread from his pocket.

Though the brick-hard crust became even colder under the rain’s wetness, it softened a bit, making it easier to eat.

Placing Ingram’s withered money pouch, kept close to his body, in the tent’s corner, Joey pulled out an old stove from somewhere unknown, skillfully lighting a fire for warmth.

He was not a fool.

Among the two adventurers he met today, one was a short guy who stupidly smiled a lot, seemingly easy to fool.

The other, however, was quite daunting, with a stern face, cold as ice, and two long swords strapped to his back—definitely not to be messed with.

In the past, he would barely have enough time to avoid them.

The only reason he dared to approach actively earlier was knowing that Ingram was nearby.

No matter if he got caught, as long as he wasn’t slain on the spot, a little noise, and the other one would come over to bail him out.

Unfortunately, he not only got caught but also picked on someone who had just gone broke at the casino.

Thinking of this, Joey bit into the black bread in his hand and couldn’t help but curse softly:

"Damn gambler!"

In the moist air, sparks sputtered as the fire struggled, burning weakly and in vain.

Feeling the warmth spreading from in front of him, Joey’s face showed a thoughtful expression.

"Next month is the annual Midsummer Festival. The market should soon become lively."

"By that time, try my luck, maybe run into some big spenders from out of town... "

"Thump!"

The muffled footsteps from outside the tent suddenly startled Joey from his contemplation.

"Who’s there!?"

He spoke in a lowered voice, shouting.

There was no response.

But those footsteps, distinctly audible amidst the pouring rain, drew ever closer.

Joey instinctively pulled out a rusted short dagger wrapped in rag from his waist, clutching it tightly in both hands.

"Who is it? Speak!?"

Still no answer.

Yet, the footsteps suddenly halted.

Sitting at the tent’s corner swaying with the storm, against the backdrop of flickering orange-red firelight.

A burly figure quietly stood outside the door flap.

"Bang!"

...

"Bang!"

A calloused hand slapped the table forcefully.

"I’m telling you, back when I faced that bear cave, I didn’t even blink, just slid right in..."

The adventurer, reeking of alcohol and flushed red from drinking, had one foot propped on a chair, boisterously boasting.

"Hahaha, weren’t you saying before that you got around to its side and stabbed its spine with a dagger? How come a few days later it’s changed again?"

Someone beside him taunted.

"Eh, you wouldn’t understand! That bear cave..."

Xia Nan sat by the dining table, with a half-drunk glass of water in front of him.

Feeling the warmth spreading gradually from his full stomach to his body, he comfortably squinted his eyes.

The half-orc Alton beside him listened with great interest to the adventurer’s boasting.

He even occasionally plucked a few notes on the strings, providing an emotional backdrop to the adventurer’s tales.

"Hey, have you heard? Something strange happened recently in Kalanfor."

Having tired of hearing about the bear cave, which apparently had a hundred ways to die, an adventurer at the table suddenly lowered his voice, asking mysteriously.

"This small town, what could possibly happen here? At most, a couple of people die."

A teammate responded dismissively; working as adventurers, they were long accustomed to the cycle of life and death, where even an ordinary murder case wasn’t as enticing as a random goblin by the roadside.

"Hold on, just listen to me."

"According to my friend, who is a guard in town, the deceased’s entire arm had its bones removed!"

"There was no external wound visible, just a mass of decaying flesh!"

Rumble——

Lightning cracked loudly outside the window, and at just the right time, the half-orc Alton plucked the strings dramatically, creating a chilling sound.

The adventurer recounting the tale immediately shuddered.

Then, he awkwardly looked towards Alton:

"Dude, maybe not now..."

"Knock, knock, knock!"

Urgent knocking interrupted his words.

The previously noisy room suddenly fell silent.

All eyes turned to the wooden door, which gently swayed with each knock.