"I'm going, you make sense, there's only him in this village, and it's about to be invaded by demons, there must be something fishy!"
"That means, he might be a big shot who takes on demons alone!"
"Squeak—"
The door was carefully opened.
Old White immediately clenched the shotgun in his hand, his nerves tensing up.
To his surprise, a face with a pleading smile appeared through the crack in the door, "Old sir, do you need any help?"
Old White hesitated for a moment before tentatively saying, "Go help me... gather some firewood?"
"Alright!"
That player briskly accepted the task and turned to leave.
"You... go fix the village bridge."
"You go grind the flour."
"You go cook."
"You go..."
One by one, the players left as Old White became more adept at assigning tasks, dispatching them effortlessly with offhand remarks.
In the players' eyes, this was clearly a display of confidence from a hidden powerhouse.
