When the village elder of Auridon led Lann out of the tavern, the rain had stopped, but the heavy clouds still hung low.
Old Allen walked ahead, his face looking as if he had lost big at the gambling table.
But when he turned to face Lann, he immediately became attentive and eager.
A contradictory feeling.
Like holding onto a hot and hard-to-liquidate treasure but unwilling to let go.
The village wasn't large, just a few steps and they arrived.
It was a house that was slightly better than the village's average standards.
It had taller foundation piles, keeping it further from the damp water, and the wooden walls visibly sturdier than those of surrounding houses.
This was the elder's house.
But to be honest, Lann didn't have much expectation.
"This is my house, there's room for another bed inside, you can rest here later."
Old Allen said as he opened the door to let Lann in.
The situation inside didn't surprise the young man.
There were only two connected rooms; one served as a living room and bedroom, and the other as a kitchen and storage.
The so-called bed was just a heap of hay mixed with rags and cotton, covered with a slightly intact piece of cloth as a sheet.
This was the bed used by the elder and his wife, so the bed he'd add wouldn't be any better.
Had Lann just arrived in Velen, he might find it hard to imagine resting on such a "bed."
But now, the young man's cat eyes surveyed the room and naturally nodded in acceptance.
The place was simple but at least clean.
The wooden walls even had a fresh, bright wreath hanging, symbolizing faith in the Meretelli Goddess.
It also showed that the woman of the house was meticulous and efficient.
In Velen, what more could one ask for?
Earlier in the tavern, Lann reached an agreement with Old Allen, who represented the village.
In the name of the so-called "demon hunter's sacred tradition," the Bear School would provide compensation.
But Lann patted his worn cotton armor and made it clear that money was out of the question; these days, everyone was tight on funds.
However, a demon hunter putting in effort wouldn't be an issue.
Auridon was a fishing village, its income primarily came from the adjacent lake.
The noble's double-wheel chariot races held here only exploited the place; villagers hoped to sell goods to the nobles or receive economic support, but that was impossible.
To feed a family, one must ultimately work hard.
But Velen's harsh ecology meant the lake was home not just to salable fish but also to man-eating water ghosts and swamp witches.
These monsters heavily restricted where and when fishermen could work.
Fishing at night was practically feeding the monsters, restricting the village's income.
Although rarely fatal in the past, villagers barely survived on the current scale, so there was no need to spend money on hiring demon hunters to kill monsters.
Yet, Lann's arrival brought a chance for change.
Not long ago in the tavern, his glowing cat eyes calmly met Old Allen's.
"You're one of the few people with insight in this village." Lann started with praise before continuing.
"According to market price, a water ghost's right ear could bring three Oren, and a swamp witch's head could bring five. Do you agree?"
Old Allen clutched a pipe, his muddy eyes instantly becoming sly, instinctively trying to haggle.
Nobles care about prestige, the church cares about devotion, everyone cares about money. This saying is practically a truth.
Haggling over money first had become instinctual.
But when Old Allen stole another glance at those slightly glowing cat eyes, the certainty and calmness in them inexplicably deterred him from conniving.
So he could only nod blankly.
"You're right, Master. But, but how does this relate to the 'compensation' you mentioned...?"
"Of course, it relates!" Lann interrupted him bluntly before the village elder could finish.
"The grand mentor sent me here to provide you with compensation, which is [discounted hunting]."
"During this time, you'll provide my accommodations and logistics, and in return, I'll only charge a third of the market price for the results of my hunting."
"A water ghost costs only one Oren, a swamp witch at one and a half. Think about it, elder, a third of the cost..."
Though Lann's tone was calm to the point of indifference, it inexplicably felt enticing to the now elder.
And during this, Lann hadn't used any magic... he just spoke.
"In less than two months, your village's fishing grounds could expand to double the size. If lucky enough to find a few water ghost nests and eradicate them, your expanded fishing ground could sustain itself for three to four years... imagine the money."
"Gulp—"
It wasn't just Old Allen; every fisherman in the tavern showed the same sign.
The prospect of doubling their fishing grounds was too tempting for these people; their eyes were almost green with greed.
"And all this could be achieved as long as you meet the conditions for receiving 'compensation.'
"What conditions?!"
"As long as the price for killing monsters doesn't change, we can all discuss!"
Without needing the elder to speak, eager spectators standing by swiftly chimed in with questions.
Lann turned his head to look at them, and even under the dim glow of his amber cat eyes, they only felt excitement.
"My third of the hunting reward must be settled in cash with no delays or shortages. Moreover, your village must guarantee the livelihood of those two victim families."
Lann casually shrugged.
"After all, the so-called 'compensation' is largely intended for these two victim families, with your village as a side beneficiary."
This simple requirement can hardly even be considered a problem.
The cash demand was the only aspect that slightly pressured the village's already tight cash flow.
The reason why the village elder displayed a face as lifeless as a dead horse when the young man wasn't looking.
But under Old Allen's influence, pooling a little from each household wasn't a problem, especially since the expanded fishing grounds would benefit the entire village.
Thus, the agreement was smoothly reached, and Old Allen even brought the man he usually called a "mutant" to his home, to express gratitude and respect for the demon hunter master's generous compensation.
Serving as Lann's residence and dining place in the days to come.
Old Allen went out to find hay for the bed, while his wife was said to be picking raspberries and berries nearby to supplement their food.
In this clean little cabin, there was only Lann left, along with Mentos.
Just as he thought of this, a neutral intelligent voice sounded in his mind.
"I must admit, sir. A top-notch businessman creates demand."
"Secure practice targets, stable food and accommodations, along with an income... regardless of whether your plan stems from moral or practical reasons, the outcome you've achieved is more comprehensive than my proposed plan."
"It's just ordinary."
The young man modestly chuckled.
But inside he thought—
I'm truly awesome!