Grey remembered being 30 years old back when he was on Earth.
He didn't know how he came to this world. Maybe he lived to 80, died, and was reincarnated here with only the first 30 years of his life in memory.
Or maybe he died at 30 and just couldn't remember the moment of dying. He wasn't even sure he had died at all; he might have been transported instead.
But no matter which one was correct, he had the experience of a 45-year-old together with the life he lived in this world.
Not knowing this, the leader of the thugs was following behind Grey, together with three other men.
They were seven at first, but one was killed by Grey and one was injured. So, the leader left two of his men with the injured one and decided to "help" Grey with his research.
But, the second he decided Grey wasn't strong, he would attack together with the other three.
Four should be enough...
"So, tell me more about this place, Gordon," Grey said. It was more like an order that got under the leader of the thugs, Gordon's skin.
"Sir, this is just a living area for the outcasts like us. Those who live here are poor and can barely survive."
Grey wanted to tell Gordon to stop with his lies, but he didn't think Gordon would tell the truth even if he said so.
"Why don't you go to the center? I heard there is a need for workers there."
"They won't hire people like us. Those from the slums..."
Lies.
Grey knew this since Viola had told him. No one cared if one was from the slums or outside. Still, it wasn't time to expose it.
"I see. Next question," Grey continued as they followed the worn-out path, "Why are you cutting wood even though it is almost the end of the winter?"
Grey wasn't heading anywhere in particular. He was just looking around as he walked to the end of the path.
Gordon hesitated for a second, but then answered, "W-we didn't cut enough to go through the winter. Also, we need to repair our houses soon so that they won't cause trouble during the next winter."
He was obviously thinking too lowly of Grey, thinking, "If he is strong, he must be a noble."
And a noble wouldn't know when wood must be gathered or when a house must be repaired.
If he were older, then he could know these things even as a noble, but he wasn't.
Unfortunately for him, even without his age, Grey was a lumberjack back in his village. So, he knew that even in the slums, no, especially in the slums, houses could be repaired maybe once each year if the owners were lucky.
And that would be just before winter, so that the cold wouldn't enter the house. Also, there weren't that many houses in these slums. He could see that the whole forest was gone.
Still...
"I understand that. You can't move much in winter and summer, so you work at the end of winter when the weather isn't too cold," Grey said with a smug grin.
"You are right, sir! You must be really clever to understand this at your age."
He needed to act a bit coy if he wanted Gordon to spill the beans after underestimating him more. So, he smiled more.
Gordon also smiled without showing his smile to anyone else.
Because after walking for ten more minutes...
"What do you think you are doing?"
"Hehehe. Sir, this is the end of the path."
They were actually at the end of the path that was forked from the center of the village to the slums.
After this, there was no path, but the continuation of the forest from the other side of the slums.
This side of the forest seemed more untouched than the other side. And Grey could easily see that people entered this side of the forest frequently.
But there was another issue at hand right now.
"Give me my sword back!" Grey shouted.
"Sir, it is your mistake for not cherishing your possessions."
When they arrived at the end of the path, Gordon jumped to the right side of Grey and took his sword dangling from his waist.
He was much faster than Grey had thought, so he couldn't react when it happened.
"You are going to regret this!" Grey said and reached for his backpack.
At the same time, he started running toward Gordon.
The other three were waiting behind Gordon to attack Grey if needed, but they knew Gordon wouldn't need them.
Grey activated his Art of Source, and black rings appeared on multiple spots over Gordon's body.
He didn't go for any of them, though. From his earlier experience, he learned that humans instinctively knew about these black spots.
Obviously, in the case of someone attacking, humans would protect their most vital spots first.
So, Grey didn't go for them. Instead, he went for a gray spot, that is, Gordon's hip.
It was an unexpected spot, but following Grey's eyes, Gordon knew what he was trying to do. He wasn't a strong swordsman who could react to an opponent by tracking small movements in their bodies or by tracking their eyes.
But Grey was too obvious about where he was aiming for.
He is really inexperienced...
This was Gordon's deduction after talking to him. According to his deduction, Grey was strong but inexperienced. He was also proud, so attacking him with words also worked.
Grey approached him at that moment. His hand was still in his backpack, but Gordon had a sword, so it wouldn't matter what he took out of his backpack.
He took something out of his backpack and swung it toward Gordon's hip.
At that moment, Gordon also held onto the handle on top of the sheath and unsheathed the sword to protect where Grey was about to strike.
And then...
Pain.
Gordon looked at his hip and saw that it was bleeding, and he was falling onto his knee.
When he looked at what Grey was holding, his mouth opened wide.
"How?"
He then looked at what he was holding. In Gordon's hand was a knife, not a sword.
"How? Did you think I wouldn't know what you were trying?"
Of course, this was all Grey's trap. He had put his sword into his backpack and put a knife in his scabbard in secret.
"I actually didn't think this would work... The handle is different. Also, you should have realized how light the scabbard was. Didn't you even hear the rattling created by the knife hitting the sides of the scabbard from inside, since it was too small?"
Gordon hadn't. This was the first time he used a real sword. Even if he had seen a sword before, it wouldn't have had a scabbard.
And the handle... He hadn't even looked at it. And now, he was on the ground in pain.