Chapter 18: Haian

Just as Shan Nan had seen in various films, anime, and novels in his previous life.

The owner of the White Sparrow Tavern was a middle-aged man sporting a distinctive mustache, meticulously polishing a wine glass with unwavering focus.

Having encountered countless adventurers, he paid no special attention to Shan Nan’s youthful appearance.

Even when Shan Nan took a seat directly at the bar, the tavern owner barely lifted his eyelids.

“Accommodation is one silver coin per night, right?” Shan Nan confirmed, referencing the information provided in the Adventurer’s Handbook.

The man nodded slightly.

“Is there a discount for long-term stays?” Drawing on experience from his previous life, Shan Nan inquired further.

“That depends on how long you stay.”

Hearing this, Shan Nan nodded in return and refrained from pressing the matter.

The White Sparrow Tavern’s rate of one silver coin per night was already considered reasonably affordable in the town; any cheaper, and comfort and safety could not be guaranteed.

Though there were discounts for extended stays, such temporary lodgings lacked a true sense of belonging if one wanted to delve deeper into the adventurer’s path.

Moreover, there were inherent risks in storing belongings or managing daily life there.

In truth, Shan Nan preferred to buy a property of his own in town.

Of course, this was contingent upon having a good understanding of the surrounding environment and sufficient funds.

“Perhaps I should find a few real estate agents to talk to when the opportunity arises,” he thought to himself.

Meanwhile, prompted by hunger gnawing at his stomach, Shan Nan’s gaze shifted to the menu hanging on the wall.

“Set meal number three, please.”

The price was two silver coins—the equivalent of a day’s wages for a laborer.

It included a generous portion of tender, fragrant stew, a bowl of rich and creamy mushroom soup, several slices of white bread served with butter and cheese, and a large glass of refreshing ale.

The meal might have seemed a bit pricey for a single sitting.

But for Shan Nan, who had just emerged from a perilous journey and come into a hefty sum, it was the perfect comfort for both body and soul.

To be honest, the taste was quite satisfying.

The stew was savory and flavorful; the mushroom soup exceptionally fresh and sweet, especially when dipped with toast, allowing the soup’s richness to seep into the bread, complemented by a small piece of soft, mildly sweet and salty cheese.

Even accustomed as he was in his past life to the countless delicacies of the modern world, Shan Nan found himself somewhat impressed.

Of course, it might also have been because he had gnawed on dried meat and flatbread for many days in the forest, making any food taste delightful now.

With the meal settled, warmth seemed to spread through his entire body.

Seated at the bar, Shan Nan’s eyes scanned the interior of the tavern.

It was somewhat surprising—despite arriving in a Western fantasy world, the number of intelligent beings of other races he had encountered since crossing over was quite limited.

Perhaps only one or two out of every ten people.

Most were gnomes and halflings; the dwarves and elves often seen on screens in his previous life had yet to appear.

Suddenly, Shan Nan’s gaze halted.

“Well, here’s one.”

By the window sat four figures of varying appearances around a rectangular wooden table:

A slender, fair-haired young woman in her early twenties, arms crossed and legs crossed, wearing an indifferent expression;

Beside her, a flamboyantly dressed, slightly plump man, fawning over her with an ingratiating smile;

But what caught Shan Nan’s attention most was the last—a tall man sitting alone on one side of the table.

His shoulder-length silver hair, a clear sign of elven blood, was neatly tied back; his delicate, refined features and pale skin were complemented by the silver-gray eyes characteristic of elves.

Yet upon closer inspection, his ears, though pointed, were not as elongated as traditional elves’; his physique was slimmer than a typical man’s but not as fragile as an elf’s.

“So, probably a half-elf?” Shan Nan guessed, relying on his scant knowledge of this other world.

The man carried a longbow on his back, fitting Shan Nan’s traditional impression of elven professions.

But were these four people a team?

“Wait! Four?” He suddenly realized he had overlooked something.

Like a TV remote that’s always just out of reach or a cellphone mistaken as lost while held in hand, the missing piece suddenly came into focus.

When he sensed something amiss, the last person he had subconsciously ignored came into view.

A middle-aged man dressed in tight-fitting attire, with an unremarkable appearance.

Compared to the other three, he had no distinguishing features, seeming merely like a passerby sharing the same table.

And it was precisely because of this that a chill ran through Shan Nan’s heart as he realized something was wrong.

His eyes flicked briefly to the rough-cloth wrapped short dagger at the man’s waist before snapping away, as if shocked by an electric current.

“Wood, what’s wrong?” Haian tightened the somewhat loose ponytail at the back of her head, noticing her guard’s unusual behavior out of the corner of her eye.

“Nothing, young master,” Wood replied, frowning slightly as he glanced toward a certain direction by the bar, watching for a moment before turning back.

“No need to be too tense. Although we are near the Mistwood Forest, this is Valley Town. With so many adventurers coming and going, there’s no real danger here.”

At this, an expression of helplessness flickered across Wood’s usually impassive face.

“Young master, precisely because this place is full of adventurers, we should be even more careful.”

Haian clearly understood the implication behind her guard’s words, but perhaps due to her trust in his abilities or simply her nature, she merely smiled in response.

“Don’t worry. The Adventurers’ Guild is right next door to this tavern. Who would dare cause trouble here?”

“Rather than worrying about that, it’s better to discuss our plans from now on.”

Wood frowned even more deeply at this.

“Young master, though I’ve said it countless times, I must remind you once more.”

“The Mistwood Forest is extremely dangerous!”

“Even I might not make it out safely if I venture too deep. You…”

“All right, all right,” the silver-haired half-elf waved his hand, interrupting without impatience. “Let me reiterate: our objective this time is only the outskirts of Mistwood—just the outskirts!”

“Fine,” Wood conceded silently; otherwise, he wouldn’t have allowed his master to come this far. “But there is one thing you must promise.”

“Name it.”

“We need to recruit a few more hands.”

Following Wood’s gaze, the half-elf glanced at the two people opposite him, a trace of agreement appearing on his face.

“You’re right.”