"Leyla! Wait... don't go!"
Bonnie's cry was cut off by the wooden door closing behind them. She bit her lip, suddenly shoving the door open to pursue her friend, fingers clutching desperately at her sleeve.
Leyla halted, pale golden eyes downcast: "What is it?"
"You're asking me!" Bonnie glared indignantly. "That kind of place... what if you encounter danger?" Her voice gradually lowered, the final note carrying barely perceptible trembling.
Seeing her companion's face scrunched with worry, Leyla softened her tone: "How's your studying progressing? I heard this exam will be particularly difficult."
Bonnie's attention was successfully diverted as she tilted her head, calculating: "Elven language and mathematics still need work. As long as they don't test those damned herbalism charts—" She pulled an exaggerated face. "I'd bet that'll be my lowest score by far."
"After class tomorrow I can help you review the key points. Herbalism happens to be my specialty..."
Their conversation carried them gradually beyond Dudde Town's boundaries. Leyla had researched the route beforehand, and with Bonnie knowing the way, they weren't concerned about getting lost. No public coaches traveled to Bayeck, leaving them to journey on foot—quite a trial for two fifteen-year-old girls.
As the road gradually narrowed and the trees on either side grew increasingly shadowed, they finally experienced Bayeck's distinctive atmosphere—an unsettling eeriness lurking within the deathly silence.
Their earlier laughter gradually died, replaced by cautious whispers. Leyla felt grateful for her companion's presence; traveling alone, she might not have found courage to continue.
"Should we turn back?" Bonnie pressed almost entirely against Leyla's side, voice barely audible. "I keep feeling like something in the woods is watching us..."
"We're nearly there." Leyla forced steadiness into her voice, pointing toward distant rooftops barely visible through the gloom, her words dry and strained. "Look—that's the town entrance."
They failed to notice that among the layered tree shadows, a single eye observed everything. The gaze held hesitation—the master had said only one would come, yet two had appeared. Which was the intended visitor?
Not only Bonnie, but Leyla too sensed those stares. The moment they entered the town, the feeling of being watched intensified dramatically, surging from all directions.
Scanning the houses lining both sides of the street revealed nothing but decay. Rotting wooden windows gaped like hollow eye sockets, yet from behind several came the distinct sensation of needle-sharp scrutiny. Now Leyla finally believed Bonnie's warnings—if monsters burst from those houses in the next instant, she wouldn't feel surprised.
Since they had come this far, she must meet the gentleman. Having saved her mother, surely he wouldn't harm her. Leyla gripped her skirt corner tightly, forcing her feet forward.
Glen's dwelling lay at the town's edge. They hadn't walked far before hearing faint humming. The melody was strange yet clear, particularly jarring in the town's deathly silence.
"That's his voice!" Leyla's eyes brightened.
"The gentleman who saved your mother?" Bonnie confirmed quietly.
Leyla nodded, pulling her companion forward at a quicker pace.
...
Glen was just placing the final dish on the table. Returning from the basement ravenously hungry, he'd been forced to cook immediately. Though conditions were limited, compared to the food available to this world's lower classes, his skills qualified as gourmet.
He habitually hummed while wielding the spatula, occasionally improvising lyrics.
"Noisy brat," the elderly neighbor muttered, scratching his puppy's chin. "Stay away from that fellow, precious."
...
Just as he prepared to eat, knocking suddenly sounded at the door.
Glen frowned, setting down his utensils and walking slowly to the entrance. Pulling the door open a crack, he was surprised to see Leyla and another unfamiliar girl standing outside.
"Good day, sir!" Leyla's eyes lit as she immediately performed a standard curtsy. "Please allow me to introduce myself properly—I'm Leyla, and this is Bonnie. We've met before."
"Didn't expect you'd actually come." Glen opened the door wider, his gaze sweeping over both girls' pale faces. "Please, enter."
Leyla appeared slightly taken aback by Glen's casual attitude, but still stepped carefully into the house. Bonnie pressed close beside her, visibly shrinking as she passed Glen.
Glen gave Bonnie an extra glance—accompanying a friend to such a place showed rare loyalty.
The shabby parlor carried faint mustiness, the steaming food on the wooden table particularly conspicuous. Both girls' gazes swept cautiously around the room.
"Sir..."
"Just call me Glen."
"You haven't had lunch yet? I'm terribly sorry for the intrusion." Leyla twisted her fingers anxiously.
"No matter." Glen waved dismissively. "Since you've arrived at the right time, care to join me? Sample my cooking."
From their first meeting, the girl had behaved with excessive propriety, as if terrified of provoking him. Glen attributed this to local etiquette, thinking nothing more of it.
At these words, before Leyla could respond, Bonnie's eyes brightened first—though she immediately lowered her head to hide it, Glen still caught that instant of anticipation.
Interesting. Prepare to be conquered by Chinese cuisine. Glen felt secretly pleased, unconsciously straightening his spine.
"That would be far too presumptuous! We couldn't possibly—" Leyla hastily declined, only to be interrupted by Glen.
"In my homeland, hosting guests represents the most basic courtesy." He deliberately adopted a stern expression. "Refusing would disappoint me greatly."
Hope immediately rekindled in Bonnie's fallen expression.
"Of... of course we wouldn't disappoint you." Leyla nodded awkwardly, a flash of confusion crossing her eyes. Judging by Glen's living conditions, he was clearly not well-off, yet still insisted on such hospitality?
What a kind eccentric, she thought.
Glen seated the pair, passing them utensils. Upon seeing the slender wooden chopsticks, both girls exchanged bewildered glances.
"Mr. Glen, these are...?" Leyla carefully picked up the chopsticks, her tone filled with uncertainty.