CHAPTER 60: CHAPTER 60

"Hey, you bastard...!"

"...Why did you bump into me?! Don’t you know who I am?!"

Bravus exploded the moment he felt himself pushed. His face turned red with rage as he shouted at Clayton.

Clayton, who had already predicted something like this might happen, immediately grew irritated. But just as he was about to teach Bravus a lesson, the man suddenly stumbled—then collapsed.

Thud!

Clayton froze. "Huh?!"

Even lying on the ground, Bravus kept cursing.

"Damn you, Clayton! How dare someone as lowly as you defy me?! You should be bowing down and licking the soles of my feet!"

Clayton was quickly losing his patience. Bravus was clearly trying to provoke him, and unfortunately, it was working. But just as Clayton prepared to retaliate, he noticed something strange—Bravus’s eyes were closed, and he was muttering nonsense.

From the outside, he looked completely unhinged.

Clayton narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Is he really sick... or just trying to start a fight?

He stepped closer—only for Bravus to suddenly lunge. Clayton instinctively flinched and stepped back.

"Damn it," he muttered, scowling. But his irritation quickly turned into something else the moment he noticed the drool dripping from Bravus’s mouth—and the stench of alcohol hanging in the air.

Only then did it dawn on him.

Bravus was drunk.

Clayton couldn’t believe it. Nearly all of Bravus’s companions had died in the last dungeon raid, yet here he was—getting wasted, gambling, chasing women like nothing had happened.

Clayton didn’t know whether to pity him... or be relieved that the man was suffering. Either way, Bravus was still a walking source of trouble.

Memories of all the chaos Bravus had caused began flooding back. Slowly, anger and resentment rose within him.

He looked down at the pathetic figure in front of him. A dark thought crossed his mind:

What if I just end this problem right here and now?

Clayton’s gaze turned cold. He stepped forward, hand rising—fingers ready to cast a lethal spell.

But just then, Bravus twitched, scratching at his own face. The sudden movement made Clayton instinctively pull his hand back.

Once he realized it was only an involuntary spasm, he let out a long sigh, shook his head, and gave a bitter smile.

"My temper’s been awful lately... Could this illness be messing with my head too?" he muttered under his breath.

He remembered that dark-attribute energy affects the soul, while light-attribute energy affects the body. It wasn’t impossible that the lingering dark energy inside him was destabilizing his emotions.

Clayton glanced once more at the unconscious Bravus, then turned and walked away. Killing someone inside the city would mean trouble with the law—and even if done in secret, the risk was far too great.

Not far away, the bushes rustled. From behind them, Equus emerged, watching Bravus with a mocking grin before shifting his gaze to Clayton’s retreating figure—his eyes unreadable.

...

After arriving at the city center of the Outer Ring, Clayton began checking the market.

His mood darkened almost instantly.

Planting season was still a month away, yet prices had already skyrocketed—especially the cost of wheat seeds. One kilogram of wheat was worth a lower-tier magic crystal, but seeds were selling for double that.

A typical yield of 1,000 kg per hectare brought in 1,000 crystals. But after the brutal 80% tax, a farmer was left with just 200. Replanting required 80–100 kg of seeds, which meant spending nearly everything they had left.

In other words: no profit.

And during harvest season, wheat prices usually dropped further. Unless they had high-tier crops, quality pests, rare weeds, or stellar luck, most farmers were doomed to break even—or worse.

Only a select few—those cultivating at least one-star, mid-tier crops—could live comfortably.

Clayton sighed. He didn’t want to buy more seeds, but he had no choice. Most available seeds were hybrids, meaning their harvested grain couldn’t be replanted. The local varieties were weak, disease-prone, and yielded little.

He made his way to his usual supplier.

"Good afternoon, sir! How can I help you?" the shopkeeper—a cheerful woman—greeted him warmly.

"How much for wheat seeds today?" he asked.

She offered an apologetic smile.

"Two crystals per kilo. Same as the market price. But since you’re a regular, we’ll give you a five percent discount."

Clayton nodded.

"All right. I’ll take 300 kilograms."

"Very well. Please wait a moment."

A few minutes later, she returned with three large sacks of germinated wheat. After paying, Clayton was handed a small slip of paper along with his goods.

"As a bonus for being a loyal customer," the shopkeeper added, "we’re giving you a seeding spell

."

"A spell?"

The paper was labeled Seeding Spell, complete with diagrams and instructions.

It was a basic, low-tier enchantment. At Level 1, it allowed 10% of regular grain to be converted into usable seeds. At Level 2, 20%. At Level 5, 60%—but the rest of the grain would be rendered useless.

Clayton guessed it was the standard public version. Surely, better ones existed. Still, with his [Divine Experience Bar], anything was possible.

After leaving the store, he didn’t head home immediately. Instead, he wandered through the streets until he arrived at Arowmfa’s incense shop and workshop.

The clerk verified his token and asked him to wait.

Soon, a small box of incense was brought out and handed to him. Clayton took it and left quietly.

...

Elsewhere in the city, a middle-aged man strolled slowly down a quiet road. His expression was somber, reflective. But suddenly, he froze—then ducked behind a pillar.

He peeked around the edge, eyes locked onto a figure in the distance. A moment later, he resumed walking casually, pretending nothing had happened.

"Is that boy doing all right?" he muttered with a faint frown.

The boy he referred to was none other than Clayton, who now walked at a steady pace, seemingly deep in thought.

...

Clayton was in good spirits—until suddenly, a chill ran down his spine.

He felt it clearly. Someone was watching him. The stare was sharp, piercing, and invasive.

Startled, Clayton hesitated.

But rather than panic, he kept walking casually, even as his heart raced.

Quietly, he signaled his mini skeletons to enter a protective formation.

"Damn it... why do I keep running into this kind of crap?" he muttered under his breath.