Chapter 521 117.3 - Second Mission
The man reluctantly led me through the town and toward the isolated field on the outskirts. The walk was quiet, the air thick with unspoken tension. As we approached the house at the center of the untouched field, I noticed the man's pace slow, his expression darkening as he looked at the modest home.
"This is it," he said, his voice flat. He cast a disdainful glance at the house, his lips curling slightly as if the very sight of it repulsed him. "I'm going to leave now. I don't want any part of this."
I watched him for a moment, noting the emotions playing across his face—disgust, fear, and a deep-seated hatred. It was clear that whatever lay behind his feelings toward this family was deeply ingrained, perhaps fueled by years of isolation and suspicion.
'Interesting... fear, hatred, and something else... a deep sense of rejection.'
He turned and walked away without another word, leaving me standing alone at the edge of the porch. I watched him go, then turned my attention back to the house.
The air here was different—calmer, almost serene.
I stepped up to the door and knocked firmly, my hand steady against the wood. There was a brief pause, and then the door creaked open just enough to reveal a young boy, no older than fifteen, with a stern expression on his face. His eyes were sharp and unwelcoming, and his posture suggested that visitors were neither common nor particularly desired.
"What do you want?" he asked curtly, his voice edged with suspicion.
"I'm Astron Natusalune," I replied, my tone even and professional. "I've been sent to investigate the situation in Shange Town. I'm here to ask a few questions about your field. It seems to be the only one that hasn't been affected by whatever's happening."
"What a weird name." The boy's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied me. "We're not interested," he said bluntly, starting to close the door.
I quickly placed my hand against the door, holding it open just enough to prevent him from shutting it completely. "This is important," I insisted, my voice firm but not aggressive. "You may not think it matters now, but what if the same thing happens to your field? Once it's gone, how will your mother continue to make the ointments she uses to make a living?"
While their field also had Moonberries, there were also some other herbs growing there. I took a note on them while looking at them, and there I can easily say that the mother is indeed an herbalist.
The boy hesitated, the door half-closed, as he considered my words. His stern expression softened just a fraction, the reality of the situation sinking in. He knew, as well as anyone, that if their field were to fall prey to the same fate as the others, their livelihood would be in serious jeopardy.
The boy hesitated, the door half-closed, as he considered my words. His stern expression softened just a fraction, the reality of the situation sinking in. He knew, as well as anyone, that if their field were to fall prey to the same fate as the others, their livelihood would be in serious jeopardy.
After a tense moment, he let out a small sigh and opened the door wider, stepping aside to let me in. "Fine," he said, his tone grudging but resigned. "You can come in, but don't take too long. My mother isn't well."
As I stepped, I naturally took a look around the house. The interior of the house was modest but clean, with the scent of herbs and medicinal plants filling the air.
It was clear that the boy and his mother lived simply, relying on the land and their knowledge of healing to sustain themselves.
As I followed the boy further into the house, I could sense the weight of the situation pressing down on him.
'A lie.' As she spoke, I watched her carefully. The slight hesitation in her voice, the brief flicker of her eyes away from mine, and the almost imperceptible tension in her posture—these were all subtle signs that betrayed her words.
I could easily detect these small cues; the tells that people often unknowingly displayed when they weren't being entirely truthful.
Her insistence that it was simply luck rang hollow. No one who had experienced such consistent results, especially in the face of a widespread blight, would truly believe it was just chance. There was something she suspected, perhaps even something she knew, but she wasn't ready to share it.
I decided to shift my approach. If she was hiding something, pressing too hard might cause her to shut down completely or, worse, make her son even more defensive. I needed to reveal a bit of my own findings, something to show that I wasn't just here to ask questions but that I had already uncovered some unsettling truths.
"I understand that you might not be certain," I said, my tone gentle but firm. "But I've been investigating the situation in Shange Town, and I've found evidence that this blight isn't natural. The way the land is affected, the way the life force seems to be drained from the soil—it's not something that happens on its own."
I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a momentary widening that confirmed my suspicion. She knew something, but she was still reluctant to share it.
I leaned forward slightly, maintaining eye contact. "I'm not here to accuse anyone or to disrupt your life. I'm here to help. But to do that, I need to know if something happened in the past that could have caused this. Even if it seems unrelated, anything you can tell me might be the key to stopping this blight."
For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of my words hanging in the air. The mother glanced at her son, who had been standing quietly by her side. His posture was tense, his eyes darting between his mother and me, clearly uneasy with the direction the conversation was taking.
Finally, she spoke, but her voice was more guarded than before. "I don't know... I can't think of anything that would cause this," she said, her tone carefully measured. But I could tell she was lying again—this time even more deliberately.
'Something did happen,' I concluded silently. The way she avoided my gaze, the slight tightness in her voice—it all pointed to the fact that she knew more than she was letting on. But whatever it was, she wasn't willing to share it, at least not yet.
I could sense the tension rising in the room, especially in the boy. His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw set as if ready to defend his mother from further questioning. Pushing any harder could risk alienating them completely.
I decided to ease off, knowing that sometimes patience was the better strategy. "I understand," I said calmly, standing up. "I won't press you further, but if you do think of anything—anything at all—please let me know. I'm here to help, and I want to do everything I can to protect your field and the rest of Shange Town."
She nodded, a mixture of relief and guilt in her eyes as she rose to her feet as well. "Thank you," she murmured. "I'll... think about it."
I turned to the boy, who was watching me with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. "Take care of your mother," I said, offering a small nod. "And keep an eye on the field. If anything changes, don't hesitate to reach out."
The boy didn't respond, but he gave a slight nod, his expression softening just a fraction.
I took my leave, stepping out into the fresh air, the scent of herbs and earth still lingering around me.
"Sigh.....What a pain...."
This mission somehow turned into something similar to my first one. However, this time, since I was alone, I needed to act more.
'Well, not that it matters.' With that, I started walking around town once again.