Chapter 19: Rumors - Not everything is true. Not everything is false.
"I don't understand your question, Elder Kara," Bozo replied calmly, dismissing any suspicions Kara might have harbored.
"Hmm..." Kara mused, rubbing his chin before turning around. He lifted the staff-like wooden stick he used for support. "An advice for you, my son..."
'Advice?'
"It's best if you leave our village as soon as possible."
"S-sorry?" Bozo raised his head, confusion etched across his face.
"You heard me right. It's best if you leave immediately," Kara repeated, a serious expression fixed on his face as he stared into the distance.
Bozo lowered his head, shaken. In a low, subtle voice, he questioned, "Is it because I'm Garbage too?"
Kara gave a side-eye at the mention of 'Garbage' and then looked back at the direction he was previously observing.
"Garbage? If you are garbage, then we must be litter, junk, trash, rubbish, and utter waste."
Bozo's eyes widened in disbelief at Kara's mocking response that seemed to belittle everyone.
"That's... I lack a limb, Elder Kara. If not garbage, then what am I?" Bozo questioned, determined to understand Kara better and the reason behind such a harsh directive.
Kara, still smiling, turned back and with a chuckle, remarked, "Lacking a limb? Ha... pity. What a pity," his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Indeed, you are garbage. You must be kicked out of our village immediately," Kara added, moving away. With a parting shot, he said, "If you want an artificial limb, I suggest meeting with the Gardwon Dwarves."
As Kara left, heading towards one of the huts and slamming the door shut, Bozo sat quietly. Alone, he pondered over the elder's words.
'Looks like he doesn't know about the system. But what did he mean by the breath of death?' Bozo tapped his chin, gazing towards the sunset, the same direction Kara had been looking.
'And I do need an artificial limb. I'm weak, and Regeneration won't help me at the moment. I need to hunt more beasts and then level up to have a chance to increase my MP and stamina… Alright, let's do that,' Bozo nodded his head, deciding to go and say goodbye to the Leader of the Village.
No matter how injured someone is or how well-acquainted, it is the Village Leader's decision to allow them into the village. While this was one of the reasons, Bozo was hungry. He couldn't go to find someone on an empty stomach, now could he?
Adding to that, he was weak. A limbless creature walking… dangerous would be an understatement. It would be a deadly mistake if he left the village in such a state. Furthermore, he needed information about the Dwarves - Elder Kara was the best option for that. Hence, he needed to stay a bit longer to initiate a talk.
Bozo stood up and, while hopping, made his way towards one of the huts. With their support, he walked towards the dining area, not too far away. The noise of the crowd served as his guide.
After about five minutes, he arrived at the area, only to be astounded by the feast that the goblins were enjoying.
Meats of various kinds, ranging from worms to higher monsters like foxes and hyenas, created a wild variety of dishes. Fish and birds were not uncommon either. Bozo couldn't help but feel perplexed.
'How are they able to enjoy this many monsters?' Confusion was etched on his face. The number of goblins in this village was no more than 300, which was fewer compared to his village's 450. Even so, they struggled in hunting and gathering food and various materials.
'I remember Elder Gara mentioning this village… how we had helped them a few times during the flooding of the river. But why...? Why do they seem better off than our best conditions? Moreover, why have a feast? It has barely been a day since our village was massacred… do they not know?'
All these questions were answered when the goblins feasting like mad animals noticed Bozo.
"Aha! Welcome welcome! Look at this, friends, we have a new garbage among us! Pfft Puhahahaha!"
Bozo turned his gaze towards the goblin who said it.
"Ah…?" Bozo couldn't help but chuckle as he noticed Gros sitting right beside this goblin who insulted him. Both of them looked quite similar with matching earrings.
'Brothers?' Bozo was intrigued by how both of them seemed similar in bullying others, even their voices matched.
"Brother… brother… shh," Gros raised his index finger and placed it on his lips, trying to prevent his brother from doing anything foolish - like bullying Bozo. In Gros' mind, Bozo was no longer a handicap; he seemed like someone hiding his strength.
Many other goblins paused eating when Gros' brother gave the remark. They noticed Bozo standing with the support of the hut.
A few of them looked at him with amazement. The rumor of Bozo fighting and standing his ground against a pack of wolves had spread wide.
One story told of him tearing out the hearts of wolves, sitting upon their lifeless bodies as he greedily devoured the still-warm organs. He drank their blood like fine-wine.
Another rumor went like this: 'He let the wolves take one of his limbs purposely because he wanted to give them a chance to fight. He was so strong that with a blink of an eye, he would have killed them all. So the lost of limb was a mere charity and out of curiosity!'
One more was overly exaggerated: 'Don't underestimate him. He is the cruelest goblin that I have ever seen. He mercilessly massacred three wolves and proceeded to feed them to the surviving ones. Such cruelty is uncommon. Never cross paths with him!'
Rumors are fake… at least most of the time. Gros, who found his wife impressed by such rumors, came to verify, only to notice that Bozo was handicapped. Angry and furious at how he thought so highly of a garbage, he started the bullying saga.
But when Bozo used his Berserker skill, a ferocious amount of aura was liberated from him, almost giving all of them a heart attack. This made him believe the rumors and quieten down almost instantly!
"Brother, please calm down. Don't say anything," Gros whispered as silently as possible, but his voice was still audible to the few who surrounded him.
"…?" His brother didn't understand what was wrong with Gros. But he buried this behavior as his attention was back to Bozo.
Others who heard murmured amongst themselves, "Gros is not picking a fight… he is asking his brother to stop. Then… could the rumors be true?"
"Tsk, look at what you are doing!" Gros' brother clicked his tongue, scolding Gros.
"Brother, it's for your and my good. Please-"
He ignored Gros' remark and noticed that Bozo stood, taking the support of a hut, and on careful observation, it was the hut of one of his subordinates. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he raised his voice, "You! How dare someone as filthy as you touch the hut? Move your hands away before I break them!"
Bozo was silent, completely quiet. But the silence spoke volumes.
Gros, who fidgeted his gaze from Bozo to his brother and from his brother to Bozo, couldn't help but feel anxious. He was worried Bozo would say or do something. But Bozo simply moved his hands.
"Ha, see? Nothing to worry about," Gros' brother gave a smile, but Gros didn't even notice, as his eyes fell on Bozo's intimidating figure. Bozo stood, completely silent, but his eyes ablaze with crimson red flames and pupils burning brightly, giving out a faint but bright red glow from the shadows that cast over the upper half of his face.
'Brother! Not only will you die, but I too will be ground to paste! Couldn't you find anyone else to pick on?!' Gros almost ripped out half of his hair from his head with his sweat-wet hands.
"…"
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