The caravan swayed leisurely forward, with Hudson sitting in the carriage, stroking a bear and appreciating the "creak, creak..." sound it made as it traveled.
The road was as bumpy as ever, often having to stop to smooth it out to ensure the smooth passage of the carriage. But these minor interruptions could not dampen Hudson's good mood.
Having been on edge for several months, he finally had a territory of his own. Hudson was pleased with everything he saw.
"Get lost!"
"You bunch of fools, brandishing a few pieces of rotten wood, daring to rob others. If you offend the great Master Hudson, you will surely..."
Hearing the voices ahead, Hudson got off the carriage with rage. Someone dared to rob him. It was simply despising the sharpness of his blade.
As Hudson got off the carriage, he noticed that something was wrong. This so-called robbery was purely a farce. These people were more like refugees than bandits.
