Chapter 8: The Goose Carries a Twig

Seeing the monster dealt with, those who had retreated to a distance and the residents and passersby hiding inside the houses cautiously emerged.

The cattle and sheep dealer, whose courage was so great that he dared to fight the Winged Snake Dragon, suddenly went weak in the legs, collapsed onto the ground with a thud, and panted like a bellows.

"Is he okay?" Aolang asked as he sheathed his weapon and approached.

Shaji supported the Merchant's shoulder, looking somewhat worried. "Not too good, meow. Although he wasn't bitten, he was only scratched a few times, but the Winged Snake Dragon's claws also carry poison, meow."

"The poison needs to be cleared as soon as possible, and he needs to be bandaged quickly, meow."

"Do you have any Antidote on you?" While speaking, Aolang took a bottle of Recovery Potion from his pack and held it to the Merchant's mouth.

"No, meow... The Antidote and Bandages are all on Reisha, meow."

"It's fine, I'll handle it," a rough voice rang out.

The tall man pushed through the onlooking crowd and shouted loudly, "Alright, everyone step back, don't crowd around here."

After speaking, he squatted beside the Merchant, took out a bottle of Antidote and fed it to the injured man, then began to check his wounds.

Aolang took the opportunity to observe this man.

The man had thick limbs and brown-black skin, appearing to be in his forties or fifties. He was equipped with a City Fortress Guerrilla set similar to Reisha's, though the details differed; it was a style suitable for male Swordsmen and the most common style.

That conspicuous Big Hat could almost be considered the symbol of the Citadel Guerrillas.

Recalling that Reisha had previously mentioned this area was very close to the district overseen by "Boss Qiaoda," the identity of the man before him was almost certain.

Not long after the man arrived, Reisha also squeezed through the crowd and ran over.

The two cared for the injured man, making him drink the Recovery Potion and Antidote, finished bandaging him, and after a few minutes of rest, the injured man's condition had clearly improved significantly, though he was still somewhat shaken.

The man supported the injured man's arm, helping him stand up. His low voice was calming, "Just now, we only stopped the bleeding and did a simple bandage. Now we will take you to the Medical Center; the wounds need to be cleaned and treated again, and perhaps stitched."

The Merchant nodded with a bitter face, asked a familiar stall owner to keep an eye on his cattle and sheep, and then, supported by the man and Reisha, limped toward the nearby Medical Center.

Left behind, Aolang felt somewhat uncertain about whether he should follow them.

The man turned back, tilted his head toward him, and said, "If there's nothing else, come along. You helped us a lot this time; I'll treat you to a good meal in a bit!"

"Do I get a share too?" Reisha asked happily.

"What does it have to do with you, meow?"

After sending the injured Merchant to the Medical Center to settle in, arranging for other Guerrilla members to comfort the citizens, and recovering the Winged Snake Dragon's corpse, the sun had already risen high by the time all that was finished.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," the burly man said as he took off his Conical Hat, hung it behind his neck, revealing a square face with a short beard.

Reisha explained quietly from the side, "Boss never takes off his Conical Hat while working, even indoors. Taking it off means entering a 'rest state,' which is when he's easier to talk to."

The man slapped the back of her head, then extended his hand toward Aolang. "My name is Qiaoda. Although these guys like to call me Boss, there are no formal ranks or hierarchies in our Citadel Guerrillas; at most, I'm just a senior to these young people."

Aolang nodded. "My name is Aolang, a One-Star Hunter. Please take care of me."

The man named Qiaoda suddenly stepped half a pace closer, staring at him. "Hmm, I've heard your name. Luokelake isn't a small city, and in all these years, I haven't heard of many examples of becoming an Official Hunter before the age of seventeen."

"To put it simply and directly, you're that so-called 'Genius Youth,' right?"

Facing the other's slightly sharp praise, Aolang merely nodded his chin slightly and said nothing.

Reisha, however, looked somewhat surprised. "Huh? I originally thought we just picked up a little street urchin. So you're that impressive, kid?"

Seeing Aolang's indifferent reaction, Qiaoda's eyes showed a look of appreciation.

Hunters are not scholars; whether one is a genius or not isn't that important.

There are countless examples of late bloomers, and so-called geniuses who die early at the mouths of monsters are merely another number on the list of sacrifices.

"You're a good kid!" He laughed and slapped Aolang's arm hard. "Sorry, I deliberately spoke harshly just now. It seems you truly don't care about that so-called title of genius."

"That's good. As for those guys who start achieving a little bit and immediately get their noses in the air, I wouldn't bother dealing with them."

"Hmm," Aolang replied.

"..."

This left Qiaoda at a loss; this child was probably also a taciturn type, and chatting with someone of such a personality often led to awkward silences.

"What do you like to eat? I'm treating! Thanks to you for what happened just now; if you hadn't arrived early, that Merchant's injuries would likely have been much more severe."

"No need to be so polite," Aolang said, as he was not one to beat around the bush. "If you don't mind, I'd like to learn more about the Citadel Guerrillas first."

"Ho," Qiaoda glanced at Reisha beside him. "Just now, Reisha secretly told me she wanted to attract you to the Guerrillas; I thought it was just her one-sided idea."

"Now it seems you have some interest too?"

"That's great! Our Citadel Guerrillas have always been short on manpower. Having reliable fresh blood join is more than welcome!"

A faint look of difficulty appeared on Aolang's face, but he knew he couldn't hold back any longer. "Sorry, I'd like to ask first: does the Guerrilla accept part-time members?"

"I hope to promote to Two-Star as soon as possible, so it might be inconvenient for me to officially join the Citadel Guerrillas and patrol the city for long periods."

"Ha! I understand what you mean!" The burly arm slung around Aolang's shoulder as Qiaoda laughed. "You might have some misunderstandings about the Citadel Guerrillas as an organization."

"It's almost mealtime. Do you like Roasted Meat Naan? There shouldn't be any young people who don't like Roasted Meat Naan, right? There's a good shop nearby; let's talk while we eat!"

Aolang felt somewhat helpless; did everyone in your Citadel Guerrillas like to discuss things at the dinner table?

But there seemed to be no room for refusal. Just like that, he was half-dragged by the two humans and a cat to that shop specializing in Roasted Meat Naan.

Before even entering the shop door, the strong scent of spices and onions rushed into his nose, nearly making him sneeze.

Qiaoda glanced at the crowd on the street out of professional habit, then asked Aolang, "Ahaha, this shop has quite a strong flavor. Can you handle spicy food?"

"... Anything is fine."

"Boss!" Qiaoda's loud voice made people's ears hurt. "Three humans and one cat! Bring the Roasted Meat Naan as usual! And bring more onions!"

"Yo! Boss Qiaoda is free to come over! Find a seat, the meat is coming right up! Do you want Wheat Beer?"

"No need for alcohol; we have patrols this afternoon."

"That's really hard work!"

After shouting a few exchanges with the Boss, Qiaoda led them to sit down. Reisha, who clearly visited this shop often, ran to the kitchen herself to get two onions and started peeling them.

"So, what was the misunderstanding you mentioned just now?" Aolang tried to steer the conversation back on track.

"Ah, um..." Qiaoda acted as if he had forgotten they weren't specifically there just to eat. "It's like this: our Citadel Guerrillas originally started as a volunteer organization, but after being incorporated by the Guild Master, it gradually developed into its current scale."

"So, don't think of it as an army or a Knight Order. If you must, understand it as a club formed by Hunters to protect their hometown. Something like that."

"So, it's freer?" Aolang asked tentatively.

"That's right. Besides daily patrol duties, the other work is simple: clearing trade routes and dealing with Monsters that come near the city."

"The difficulty isn't high; it's usually Yellow Velocidrome and the like. If it's a more dangerous Monster, the Guild directly commissions Hunters to handle it."

"Then why not just publish these tasks publicly as missions at the Gathering Hall?" Aolang pressed.

"Ah, that question."

Qiaoda scratched the short, stiff beard on his chin. "How to put it? These missions are numerous, low-difficulty, and low-reward. Listing them at the Gathering Hall makes them One-Star Missions; most Hunters find them unprofitable and too lazy to take."

"But at the same time, these missions need to be completed quickly, otherwise they will disrupt trade routes and threaten citizen safety. That's why Luokelake needs the Citadel Guerrillas."

Aolang nodded, indicating he understood.

Indeed, if it were himself, once he promoted to two-star, three-star, or even higher ranks, he wouldn't be interested in taking a mission like "Slay Three Yellow Velocidrome."

Qiaoda smiled and continued, "You are a Hunter with master-disciple lineage, not one of those kids from the Training Camp."

"Actually, many young Hunters from the Luokelake Training Camp choose to join the Guerrilla during their novice period."

"This helps them quickly accumulate combat experience, and those slaying-related missions all count toward the mission quota."

"So there's also a saying that the Citadel Guerrillas are the cradle of Luokelake Hunters."

"Ah, the meat is here, eat quickly!"

Qiaoda pointed to the huge platter of roasted meat that had just been placed on the table, made a "help yourself" gesture, and said, "There's another saying that the Citadel Guerrillas are a gathering place for low-star Hunters."

"This saying is a bit harsh, but it's actually not wrong; after all, it is a 'cradle'."

Qiaoda smiled and glanced at Aolang. "Some young birds grow here until their wings are full, then fly away."

"Some old birds who love their home choose to stay in the nest, carrying two twigs every day to patch and repair."

"The Citadel Guerrillas are just such a place."