Chapter 52

Chapter 52: Chapter 52 Clayton continued walking cautiously, ready to unleash an attack at the slightest sign of danger. After a while, the silhouettes of several people came into view. Clayton relaxed slightly when he realized they were just farmers—his neighbors. However, their movements and equipment stirred his curiosity. As they passed each other, Clayton quickly understood what was happening. The farmers were carrying various weapons and hunting tools. It was obvious where they were headed. Bravus, who now led his own group, had become increasingly arrogant. He had even forbidden some people from attending the academy’s conference, instead ordering them to prepare for a hunt. Many were frustrated by Bravus’s irrational behavior, but having chosen him as their leader, they had no choice but to swallow their anger in silence. When Bravus spotted Clayton walking alone, his eyes lit up. He wanted to flaunt his authority in front of him. "Hey, you! Clayton!" he called out. Clayton, seeing the smug expression on Bravus’s face, felt nothing but annoyance. "What is it?" he replied flatly. Bravus didn’t appreciate Clayton’s tone and was about to lash out. Unfortunately for him, Clayton was already in a foul mood after dealing with Arowmfa. He had no patience left for Bravus’s nonsense. "What? If it’s nothing important, then get out of my way." Clayton walked past him without a second glance. Publicly humiliated, Bravus trembled with rage and even considered attacking Clayton from behind. But he froze when he noticed Clayton’s miniature skeletons glaring at him with the cold, lifeless eyes of the undead. A chill ran down Bravus’s spine. He backed off, helplessly watching Clayton’s figure disappear into the distance. The moment Clayton was out of sight, Bravus exploded in fury. He began beating the farmers who had come with him. Despite the pain, none dared to protest. After venting his anger, Bravus resumed his role as leader and barked out orders. "Move it! I want a big haul today. If not, you know what happens!" The farmers bottled up their resentment. Deep down, many regretted abandoning Arthur’s group to follow Bravus—the lunatic. Some even began to wonder if Bravus was mentally stable. They weren’t confident they’d catch anything at all today. Bravus continued swaggering at the front of the group. But then, suddenly, his demeanor changed. In an instant, he transformed into the most polite man alive. "Boss! What brings you here?" Bravus asked in a groveling tone. "Oh, nothing. Just checking in. So, how’s the hunt going? Confident about today?" the man asked casually. "Absolutely, Boss! Don’t worry. I won’t let you down—I’ll bring back a mountain of game!" Bravus said eagerly, trying to sound convincing. The man nodded. "Good. I trust you. You’ve got this." After exchanging a few more words, the man left with a group of tough-looking subordinates. As soon as they were out of sight, Bravus’s smile vanished. His expression twisted into a dark scowl. Had Clayton seen that exchange, he would’ve been shocked. The man Bravus called "Boss" was none other than the gang leader who had ordered the raid on Hank’s house—the same man known for running several illegal businesses. Clayton was well aware of his reputation. It was this man who had pulled strings to save Bravus from execution after he was charged with murder in town. He had enough influence to silence the authorities and keep Bravus alive. In return, Bravus had made a number of promises—seventy percent of all his hunting spoils and other conditions that essentially reduced him to a slave. He had no choice. Without that man’s intervention, Bravus would’ve already been executed. It wasn’t that his perfume wasn’t valuable—it was. But the boss saw more profit in keeping him alive—and in debt. After all, in any world, debt is always more profitable than death. The memory stirred Bravus’s hatred for Clayton and the others. He fumed silently, his face twisted with frustration. The farmers kept their distance, afraid of becoming his next target. Eventually, Bravus calmed himself and gave the order to move out. "All right, let’s go!" Meanwhile, Clayton finally made it home safely. As soon as he opened the door, Dingo—his dog—greeted him with uncontainable excitement after being alone all day. Clayton returned the affection warmly. Due to the harsh winter, Dingo hadn’t been able to go out much and was clearly bored out of his mind. They played together for a while, leaving Dingo overjoyed. They kept going until they were both exhausted, took a short rest, then played some more before finally stopping. Afterward, Clayton cleaned up carefully, wanting to rest in comfort. Then he sat down and began unpacking the items he had acquired through bartering. Everything seemed normal at first—until he pulled out a small statue. At that moment, Dingo suddenly became restless. Clayton didn’t notice at first, distracted by the other items. But when Dingo began trembling and inching toward the statue like he was possessed, Clayton’s suspicion grew. There had to be something strange about it. Dingo looked torn—he clearly wanted to eat it, but was holding himself back, glancing between Clayton and the statue. Confused, Clayton gave a small nod of permission. The moment he did, Dingo lunged at the statue, biting and shaking it violently. Clayton thought he had simply mistaken it for a toy. Crack! A sharp sound rang out. Clayton jumped. "Dingo! What are you doing?!" he shouted as he watched his dog slam the statue to the ground. Dingo looked completely possessed—ripping the statue apart without a hint of restraint. Clayton even wondered if Dingo had some personal grudge against it. But everything became clear once the statue shattered, revealing a large, gleaming white bone inside—shiny like fine glass. Dingo gleefully gnawed on the bone. Clayton stared, utterly bewildered. Moments later, Dingo’s body began to grow. Clayton could hardly believe his eyes. The dog devoured the bone down to the last fragment—even licking the dust. Then, Dingo’s body began to glow. He curled up and fell asleep, enveloped in a cocoon of light that resembled a glowing egg. Hours passed, and the glow slowly faded. From within, a new form of Dingo—still recognizable, yet subtly transformed—emerged. Just as Clayton took a step forward to examine him more closely, a knock sounded at the door. Clayton let out a groan. "Damn it, there’s always something! I really need to set up a proper defense array... just so I can have a moment’s peace!" He got up and hurried to open the door.