"Man, this sucks!" the blacksmith sighed, the weight of realization hitting him. "I've got to walk all the way home, and these beers are hitting me hard."
The town sat beside the edge of the Lost Forest, where the man lived. Normally, the walk home took about an hour, depending on his pace.
"I need to get a horse one of these days. Hic! Walking just isn't cutting it anymore—not with this old age dragging me down."
He stumbled along, muttering nonsense with every unsteady step. "Then again, the road's kinda rough for a horse... Maybe one of those lizard things—hic."
William was very drunk. He could barely keep his balance, and he knew that at this rate, he wouldn't make it home—maybe not even halfway.
Eventually, he slumped onto a bench along the market street, frowning at himself. "Man, this is embarrassing! I had such a cool exit, and now look at me. Why'd I have to crash and burn like this?"
He was thinking back to his interaction with the waitress. He'd felt proud—confident—about how he'd handled the situation, paying so Lucy wouldn't get in trouble with her boss. But William was a terrible drinker, and his fatal mistake had been sitting down while drinking. Once he stood, the alcohol hit him all at once.
"I acted like such a novice... Everyone knows you're supposed to eat and drink water between drinks. What was I thinking? Well, clearly—I wasn't."
As he continued scolding himself like a nagging mother, something suddenly caught his attention.
"Wait... I smell food!"
He shot up, wobbling, but determined. He staggered down the market street, following the scent until he spotted a food stall still open late into the night.
His mouth watered at the sight. "Now that I think about it... I've barely eaten today. Just one of those days where all my bad decisions come out to shine."
Leaning against an empty stall for support, William frowned. It was well past west-sun hours—everything should've been closed by now. So why was this one still open?
"Maybe I do have a guardian angel..." he murmured. "Whatever. I've gotta eat something or I'll end up throwing up."
Suddenly, he heard voices.
"—Come on, Grandpa! Just give me one! Don't be so greedy!"
"How dare you! I told you I don't give my food to broke kids. If you don't have money, then don't bother!"
"What the hell is going on?" William muttered.
As he stumbled closer, he saw an argument unfolding between the merchant and a young, golden-haired boy.
"Listen," the boy said confidently, "you don't know me now, but in the future, I'm gonna be someone great. My name will be heard around the world!"
"Oh yeah?"
The boy nodded, striking a heroic pose. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! When that day comes, I'll make sure to tell everyone about the kind merchant who fed me when I was down. A whole chapter of my story—dedicated to you! Think about the publicity. Your food stall will be famous!"
The merchant rolled his eyes. "Kid, I don't know what madhouse you escaped from, but I'm pretty sure your parents dropped you on your head. This isn't a charity. We're all out here trying to survive. You should try doing the same."
The boy looked down, momentarily defeated. He clenched his fists, then let them go. "I see there's no reasoning with you... Very well. I'll take my leave."
"Good. You're scaring off my customers. Now scram."
"So rude," the boy muttered, taking a few steps before turning back. "Just so you know, you're getting no mercy in my eulogy."
"Get out!" the merchant barked.
The boy flinched at the sudden outburst. "Alright, alright. I'm gone."
"What was that about?" William asked himself.
He watched the boy disappear before turning his attention to the merchant. He recognized the man from past merchant guild meetings and Jaeger family gatherings, though he'd never caught the guy's name—partially because he didn't wantto.
Was it Larry? John? No... it had a P. Paul? Perry?
Too late to think now—he was already standing in front of the stall. The merchant's nostrils flared with irritation.
"Hey, Polo! How's it going?"
"It's Paul, you imbecile!"
"I knew it started with a P!"
Paul groaned. Trouble had just doubled. He instantly recognized the man in front of him: a Jaeger. And not just any Jaeger—the blacksmith.
"Well, look who decided to show his face again. And drunk, no less. How long's it been? Two years? The guild's not going to like that."
William scratched his cheek. "Actually, it's been four. But it doesn't matter—I quit the merchant game a while ago."
Paul didn't even blink. "Figures. You were never good at it anyway. Not surprised."
William stood stunned by the bluntness. But then again, Paul had always been like this—no sugarcoating, just straight to the point. It almost made him nostalgic. Not many people had been that harsh with him... outside of his own family.
Paul stared directly at the blacksmith, making William uneasy.
"...What?" William asked.
"You didn't come here just for chit-chat, did you?"
"R-right! I'll take some of that, please," he said, pointing at the food that had caught his attention.
There was a brief silence that made William uncomfortable as he watched the food being wrapped.
"That was quite the interaction you had with that boy," he said.
Paul snorted. "Stupid kid. Doesn't he know life doesn't hand things out so easily?"
"That's true," William admitted, "though you could've gone a bit easier on him."
The merchant scoffed. "And what good would that do? Life's not that simple. You, of all people, should understand that."
William couldn't argue. Even coming from a wealthy family, his childhood had been far from easy. He'd faced his share of hardship—and maybe that's why kids like that young man struck a chord with him. He understood what it meant to struggle.
"I do. That's why we should try to do better. The next generation shouldn't have to go through the same hell we did."
Paul shook his head. "It would be irresponsible of me to coddle them. We can't shelter kids from the world. Not everyone thinks like you, blacksmith. Eat this—maybe it'll help sober you up and knock some sense into you."
He shoved the food into a bag and handed it over. William snatched it, irritation written on his face.
"How much?"
"Ten bronze," Paul replied calmly.
William was placing the coins on the counter when the merchant suddenly grabbed his arm.
"What the hell!?" William barked, caught off guard.
"Calm down, Jaeger," Paul said in a quieter, more serious tone—something William had never heard from him before. "I'm not out here selling food at this hour for fun. Especially not today."
William chuckled. "Didn't think you of all people would be the errand boy. But hey, everyone's turn comes up eventually. Sucks for you that it landed on a holiday... You could've been the drunk one getting served tonight."
Paul rolled his eyes. "Spare me the mockery, blacksmith. Especially since I'm about to give you information. For free."
"It's not free if you just charged me for the food."
"I've got to make a living somehow. Merchant's code. And speaking of code—you're still wearing that pendant around your neck. So, I'm obligated to tell you."
William looked down and noticed the pendant peeking from his shirt. He clumsily tried to hide it with his free arm, but the movement was too sluggish to be effective.
"Anyway," Paul continued, "I'd suggest making a few of those fancy weapons of yours."
William furrowed his brow. "Why?"
"Something—or someone—big is heading to the merchant's guild. Could be a major sale for you. You are a Jaeger, after all."
That last line left a bitter taste in William's mouth.
"Like hell I am," he muttered.
"When's it happening?" he asked, more serious now.
Paul smirked. "Can't tell you yet."
"What? Then how the hell am I supposed to be ready for it?"
"You're going to be my grey area," Paul said. "I'll tell you when the time's right. For now, just make sure you're prepared."
He let go of William's arm.
"Thank you, and come again!" Paul said with a mocking cheer.
William didn't respond. He just turned and walked off toward home.
***
"I've arrived... at last!"
After nearly giving up on the idea of making it back, William finally stepped onto the porch of his cozy home.
"Seriously, if I hadn't eaten back there, I'd be passed out on some bench right now."
He was grateful. The idea of waking up in the middle of town with strangers staring had haunted him the entire walk.
"Took me an hour, but I made it in one piece."
His home sat deep within the Lost Forest—a dangerous place filled with unique and often hostile creatures. For most people, unfamiliar with the paths, it would take two or three hours just to find the place.
"It's a pain walking all the way out here every time, but it has its perks. No one dares come this deep. Whoever built this place knew what they were doing."
Secluded, quiet, and safe—it was ideal for someone trying to keep a low profile. Especially a Jaeger. Blacksmithing of their caliber attracted attention. The kind William didn't want.
"Can't have thugs sniffing around trying to steal my work."
He looked at the familiar exterior of the house and smiled softly.
"To think Grandfather used to live here…"
The house was still officially a Jaeger household, though the family had long since abandoned it. In many ways, it reflected William himself—forgotten, avoided, and alone.
"Although if anyone knew the truth, they'd realize this house wasn't built to protect something—it was built to hide something. Isn't that right?"
To any onlooker, it might've seemed like William was talking to himself. And to be fair, he often did when lost in thought. But this time, he wasn't alone.
Someone had been following him since the moment he entered the forest.
They hadn't said a word. Hadn't shown themselves. But he knew they were there.
"Hmph. Still as stubborn as ever," he muttered. "Then again, I have no right to complain. I am the one at fault here."
He sighed when the silence behind him continued. No response.
Stepping up to the door, he paused, then turned to glance back at the trees.
"I'm sorry for keeping you out this long. Thanks for guarding me all the way here… even if it's just because of that generational contract."
As he slipped inside and began to close the door behind him, he murmured one last thing under his breath:
"...Though you and I both know it's not necessary."