Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 1242: Chapter 680: Artificial Warmth (Part 2)

There’s simply no way to escape, wailing and crying are of no use at all, fear is slowly devouring his sanity.

Undoubtedly, the setting sun is gradually extinguishing, just like his hope, and when he looks at the sky again, the last glimmer of light disappears.

There’s not even a need for the Skeletons, those rats that have tasted human blood deem him as food and launch an attack under the cover of night.

"Ahhhhh..."

In the darkness, only a shadow could be seen flailing randomly, then letting out strange cries.

But, unfortunately, the darkness has completely taken over these ruins, no one can hear...

The unstoppable posture of the night overwhelms, even Hamlet’s new district is enveloped, everyone finishes their day’s work and begins to return to their families or head into nightlife.

Though nowadays most adventurers head to the new town to venture into the ruins, the city itself remains bustling as a transit point, with goods flowing continuously in and out, bringing news exchange.

"Damn it, I should’ve gone to the ruins, hanging with those guys is useless."

Some mercenaries detained by the Mercenary Guild feel somewhat displeased; after all, just like the Scorpion Mercenary Group, the ones chosen tend to be some quite capable mercenaries, those who lick blood off the edge of a knife. Naturally, they can sense something is off between the guild and Hamlet.

Originally thought they could take advantage of the chaos to plunder this wealthy town, but to their surprise, the guild spent a whole day and night without doing anything significant, now everyone knows Hamlet has outweighed the guild, in the future, the guild’s words won’t hold much, if any, sway around here.

Don’t think the guild is just a punching bag, the rewards between a fight breaking out and not breaking out are significantly different, and now hearing there’s Gold Coin to be found in the ruins, it excites them.

Because, in their belief, it should have been theirs initially, damn it, but the guild held them back.

There are also some more conservative adventurers waiting for news from the front line. Now that it’s finally confirmed, it’s likely tomorrow another batch of skilled folks will surge into the new town, heading to the ruins.

Everyone is proclaiming the Skeletons’ frailty and the treasures everywhere, but it seems they’ve forgotten something, and that is what exactly happened to those adventurers who never came back.

Were they betrayed, submerged by Skeletons, or encountered some unspeakable thing? No one cares about them, nor does anyone concern themselves.

A figure wrapped in tattered cloth bound in chains roams around Hamlet, he doesn’t have the skills to perform like a clown, nor even a single copper coin on him, he looks just like those refugees.

Hunger and exhaustion are almost devouring his sanity, and the passersby around him seem to exude the scent of food.

Yet the chains on him and the peculiar big lock do faintly glow in the dim light, helping him suppress the bloodthirsty urge.

To cope with the autumn chill, he can only painstakingly wrap tighter in his tattered cloth, curling up in the city’s corner through this tough night.

But it’s known that Hamlet never permits vagrants, soon a patrolling police officer spots him.

"Are you alright?"

"Did you encounter any difficulties?"

"You can’t stay here, wake up!"

The weak warmth brought by the torch gave the man a moment to collect himself, and upon realizing it’s police, a helpless expression inadvertently appeared on his face.

"Sorry, I will leave."

The warmth from the firelight stung him, as it wasn’t his to have, instinctively he tried to cover the scarred and twisted face, obviously self-conscious.

"Have you eaten?"

The police officer suddenly asked a strange question, causing the man to pause briefly, then after a slight hesitation, he shook his head.

"No, I just got here."

"Then come with us."

He thought he would be expelled, having heard plenty about Hamlet along the way, or perhaps he violated some rule and got detained.

But the police did not trouble him, instead, they took him to a local precinct nearby, offering him a bowl of thick stew made of things like potatoes and carrots boiled with pork or beef.

"This is our late-night snack tonight, there’s more if it’s not enough."

"You can sleep here tonight, it’s quite cold outside."

"Tomorrow, find a job, there are plenty of job opportunities in Hamlet, as long as you’re hardworking, you can live here."

With just a few words, an unusual feeling arose in the man’s once dead heart. Since his wandering, everyone had treated him like a monster, either avoiding him or driving him away, some even attempted to attack him.

Not to mention being constantly under the pressure of the Church, he actively avoided those people, wandering in the wild, blending in with inconspicuous refugees.

Luckily, his unique constitution gave him strong digestion abilities, surviving thus far by eating things others could hardly digest in this calamity-plagued world.

Without a doubt, in Hamlet, he felt hope...

What a joke, letting in such strange people, but they were all key surveillance targets of the police, much like the one way before entering the city core, and likewise directed away.

There’s an order from above to respond sternly if they cause trouble, but if they don’t, to soothe these odd people just a bit, so they have a good impression of Hamlet.

Just as Baldwin was once fooled by Lance, yet it’s undeniable that a manufactured warm scene is a salvation to some bewildered and numb souls, even if it’s fake... like the warmth emanated from the last matchstick.

The man carefully cradled the bowl, feeling the warmth transmitted, keeping his head down eating the hot porridge, not daring to look up, for he was about to shed tears.

"Uh..." he quickly finished a bowl, intending to return it, but seeing this, someone seemingly understood, smiled and gestured.

"There’s more, for those of us on the night shift get subsidies, including supper and breakfast."

The police officers didn’t waste time with words, directly taking him to a kitchen beside the precinct, not only was there porridge, but also leftover thick stew from the night, along with bread filled with cheese and smoked meat.

Leftover food didn’t bother him, only stopped after eating three big bowls and returned to the precinct hall where there was a detention room fenced by a few iron bars.

Originally for temporary detention, but now Hamlet has a prison, there haven’t been any cases in this precinct’s jurisdiction lately, leaving it empty, perfect for him to sleep on the benches.

The man hadn’t forgotten how he escaped that cage, yet now he voluntarily walked into that detention room, but compared to the cage, this door was open.

With a shelter blocking the wind and dim candlelight inside providing him with immense warmth, plus the talking of patrolling police returning reports brought inexplicable comfort.

This was his most comfortable night since escaping...

"The target shows no aggression, now settled, though he doesn’t explicitly show desire for the ruins, more like a fugitive hiding."

"We plan to arrange a job for him tomorrow to test."

"I disagree, what about his condition? Those chains..."

"Let’s see what he intends, the reason for coming to Hamlet."

Elsewhere, Grendel and several police chiefs were discussing the control of these Transcendents, it wasn’t just this man, a few others were marked too, only most didn’t reach such destitution, thus there wasn’t direct contact.

Others might sleep, but Grendel was genuinely stressed, though Baldwin handled governmental matters, she had to convey the Lord’s decisions concerning details.

For some, the night seemed long, with folks in Hamlet City staying up all night worrying about possible attacks, but the night passed calmly without an inkling of anomaly.

And for others, the night was merely the blink of an eye, and a new day dawned...

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