In an instant, Lann couldn’t distinguish whether the coldness in his heart stemmed from anger or guilt.
Just an overwhelming chill swept through the Demon Hunter’s body.
A seemingly ordinary hunting trip, he and his friend were working methodically, then unknown enemies, smiling with the intent to kill, began their assault!
The enemies were cannibals, Bernie got shot by an arrow, Lann’s brain endured a 70% proficiency impact, took him back to the village, and performed surgery while enduring the imminent brain-exploding pain.
The young man fully believed he saved his friend’s life.
Thinking of nothing else: today’s events were such a damn mess, exhausting me greatly, saying that tomorrow, I’ll follow the scent to handle the archery bastard, but today, I don’t even want to get out of bed, no one should stop me.
But just after stitching up Bernie’s abdomen, Old Allen brought such news.
Clear skies and thunderbolts, burning with anger.
It was like a bucket of cold water poured from above; he didn’t even know what he felt inside at the moment!
He came to Auridon mainly to ensure the widow of someone who once spoke for him could live well.
But now, their only remaining child has been abducted!
——Because the child’s damn mother was gathering those cursed alchemy herbs for me!
For what other reason, Lann couldn’t figure out why a prematurely matured child due to family changes would run out of the village for no reason.
White knew too well how dangerous it was outside the village.
And now, in Lady Donna’s arms, that little cloth bundle still emits a distinct scent of fresh white Centifolia.
Of course, he’ll be angry; child abduction is on par with cannibalism in Lann’s eyes!
But if anything is the most prominent feeling right now, it’s anxiety.
Why did all the bad things pile up together?!
Lann recalls his homeland’s criminal investigation experts had statistics showing that within the first forty-eight hours of a person going missing, whether it’s the retrieval rate by the police or the survival rate of the missing person, it far exceeds post-forty-eight hours.
That was in the technologically advanced world of his homeland with surveillance everywhere.
Human traffickers causing mass deaths are stories from hundreds of years ago.
But in Velen... in Velen where every day, people die off like bugs.
Velen People, as long as they leave home, they bear the risk of dying unexpectedly on the road, let alone being abducted?!
——Every second counts now!
Lann jerked up from the dock’s wooden planks, his nearly two-hundred-kilo weight even causing the planks to creak!
"Why didn’t you say so earlier!"
The Demon Hunter’s face twitches from anger, as he puts back on the steel wrist guard and studded leather gloves, shooting a furious glare at Old Allen.
The old man’s face crinkles into a ball.
"You were saving someone." The old man pointed at Lady Donna "Donna wouldn’t disturb you, throwing herself at you like a madwoman, even though she indeed is worrying herself sick now."
Lann, before that name, forcefully suppresses his misplaced anger.
In his heart, the person least qualified to be yelled at in this world is Lady Donna.
The middle-aged woman sitting limply on the ground, that optimistic demeanor is now nowhere in sight.
Even with the loss of the family’s pillar, the main labor force, when Lann first met her, she still appeared big-hearted, optimistic, and brave.
She would shamelessly mock her lost husband, then turn around to do work that women’s bodies couldn’t normally endure, rebuilding their home.
As if "life" itself couldn’t defeat her!
But now, the optimistic and brave smile has vanished without a trace.
Replaced by deep despair.
That expression makes Lann’s heart ache uncontrollably.
A moment later, Lann’s deep, cold voice sounded: "Give me the clues."
The Demon Hunter crouched in front of Lady Donna, lowered his head not daring to meet her eyes, lightly pulled away the little cloth bundle clenched in her hand.
He was greeted by the tight stitching marks, just like the stitching marks on Lann’s Cotton Armor Outer Cover.
This was a small bundle prepared by a mother for her child.
"Sir, thinking needs calmness."
Mentos’ voice echoed in his mind.
In its perception, Lann’s emotional fluctuations are about to explode now!
"I know." But when Lann responded, the tone was as cold as a piece of ice. "I certainly know."
The Demon Hunter’s extraordinary perception was executed to its limits on this small cloth bundle.
The bundle had been tugged, White resisted. One could go to the scene to see if more traces were left.
With a gentle sniff, the Centifolia fragrance surged forth.
The amount of petals inside this bundle isn’t something that can be gathered in a morning.
White must have started harvesting herbs last night.
The child really wants to live up to the Oren Coin given by Lann.
But amidst the intense floral scent, Lann’s nose suddenly detected an ominous smell.
It was the smell that, during the capture operation a few days ago, made him want to vomit.
"So much and mixed..." the Demon Hunter furrowed his brow, staring at the bundle in his hand "Human flesh smell?!"
Now rampant child abduction cases in Velen, are they actually the work of the Cannibal Faction?
No, it can’t be certain.
The forces that attacked Lann and Bernie were from the Cannibal Faction, maybe because Lann aided in capturing their members, they came to Auridon for revenge.
Thinking of this, Lann’s guilt adds fuel to the fire of anger.
"Thankfully..." The young Demon Hunter rose from the ground, turned towards the small boat he brought back. "There’s still the ’Tongue’."
The gaze, cold like a blade, directed at Willis on the boat.
When Willis came to, the first thing he felt was the intense pain erupting from his lumbar spine.
His spine was broken; the lower half of his body is numb. But the fracture point is painfully overwhelming.
The scream was forcibly shoved back into his chest; having lost the skin on half his face, Willis’ expression twisted hideously, like an evil monster.
A large hand wearing a studded leather glove directly covered his mouth, the immense force making him feel his jaw deforming!
It was that Demon Hunter!
It was this glove that took half of his face; the touch is etched in his memory.
"Don’t be afraid, I won’t hit your head this time."
A pair of cold cat eyes appeared in his view.
"Someone taught me that hitting the head first during torture makes people dizzy, unable to feel pain. I took it to heart."
The leather glove rubbed on the skinless muscle, the spreading pain brought tears to Willis’ eyes.
Yet, under those cat eyes, now he dared not even cry out loud.
But the cat eye’s owner seemed to misunderstand something.
"Ah, still a tough guy. Very good."
The Demon Hunter, expressionless, nodded and spoke.
Willis was desperate to clarify, but the large hand on his mouth gave him no chance to speak.
"Making a hardened man who considers torture as nothing, finally cry out revealing all secrets, such secret credibility is certainly higher than those who can’t keep secrets."
"Congratulations, buddy. You’ve successfully increased your value."
Willis struggled with "mm-mm-mm" sounds but couldn’t say a word.