Before heading to Athe, Terry Al had some loose ends to tie up. His first stop was the home of Old Riley. The old man wasn't just a master of information but also possessed an unparalleled knowledge of the continent. Terry Al knew it was vital to cultivate a good relationship with him.
Finding Riley's address wasn't difficult. Given Terry Al's youthful appearance, no one suspected his motives. Soon enough, he stood before a quaint yet elegant courtyard. Though not grand in size, its prime location testified to Riley's refined tastes.
He knocked on the door, and a girl's voice answered from inside.
"Who's there?"
Clearing his throat, Terry Al replied, "Ah, pardon me—does Mr. Riley live here? I'm an old friend of his."
The door opened to reveal a girl of about fifteen or sixteen. Her attire was opulent, and her strikingly beautiful eyes immediately captured attention. But there was more to her allure than just her gaze.
Upon seeing Terry Al, she giggled softly. "A little guy like you claims to be friends with that old man?"
"Old man?" That single phrase told Terry Al just how doting Riley must be to this girl.
"And you are…?" he asked politely.
The girl blinked and smiled. "I'm his daughter. My name is Isa."
"Ah, Miss Isa, may I come in then?"
"No."
"No?" Terry Al was flabbergasted. "Why not?"
Hands on her hips, Isa replied, "Because I don't think my father would have someone as young as you for a friend. So, little liar, you'd best leave now—or else!"
Little liar? Terry Al nearly lost his temper but restrained himself. Pulling out his mercenary badge, he held it up for her to see.
"This. Surely, you recognize it?"
As Riley's daughter, Isa couldn't possibly fail to identify a mercenary badge. Upon seeing the gleaming silver emblem in his hand, her shock was evident. This boy was a second-tier mercenary? How could that be?
After carefully examining the badge to confirm its authenticity, Isa's demeanor shifted.
"Fine, you can come in. But behave yourself. If you try anything funny, I won't go easy on you." She waved a tiny fist at him for emphasis.
Terry Al broke out in a cold sweat. *Funny ideas?* Sure, he might entertain such thoughts—if only his body could keep up with his imagination!
Once inside, Terry Al wasted no time charming Isa with his humor. A few well-timed jokes had her laughing so hard she nearly fell over, and before long, they were chatting like old friends.
"You're quite the character, Terry Al," Isa remarked with a grin. "Tell me, what kinds of missions did you complete to earn your rank?"
Storytelling? A piece of cake.
Terry Al launched into a series of thrilling tales from his "mercenary adventures." Of course, 99% of these stories were pure fabrication, but their entertainment value was undeniable.
Around midday, Old Riley returned home for lunch. Hearing his daughter's unrestrained laughter from outside the house, he was immediately intrigued. *What's making this little devil so happy?*
"Terry Al?" Riley's surprise was evident when he entered and saw the boy. He hadn't expected him to show up at his home.
"Mr. Riley, I've been waiting for you!" Terry Al stood and performed an awkward mercenary salute.
Riley chuckled at the boy's antics. "Enough of that, Al. No need to put on airs in front of the lady. So, tell me—was the trip worthwhile?"
Terry Al offered a modest smile. "Quite rewarding, though these things aren't much use to me."
With that, he laid a few fine weapons on the table before him. "Please, consider these a gift, Mr. Riley."
Riley's eyes widened as he quickly scooped up the items. Giving Terry Al a meaningful glance, he hurried to a side room.
"Al, you're playing a dangerous game," Riley said once they were alone. "You shouldn't flash treasures like these so carelessly."
Terry Al frowned, confused. "Why not? They aren't stolen."
With a sigh, Riley gestured for him to sit. "Listen, Al. The mercenaries in this city have gone to great lengths over the Mystwood Forest expedition, only to return empty-handed. Naturally, anyone who did manage to find treasures will draw their attention. If word gets out that you were successful, do you think they'll let it slide?"
Terry Al was still puzzled. "What does that have to do with them?"
"Everything. Wealth like this invites envy. If you were a high-ranking warrior or mage, they might think twice. But you're just a kid. They'll see you as an easy target, someone they can pressure or steal from. Do you understand now?"
The reality of Riley's words sank in, and Terry Al nodded solemnly. He imagined a thief eyeing two people: a boy his age and a seasoned warrior, both holding equal wealth. The choice of target was obvious.
Though he wasn't afraid of these people, the idea of constantly being hunted wasn't appealing either.
"Isa, go check if lunch is ready. I'll share a drink with Al in the meantime," Riley called out.
Isa turned, frowning slightly. "Father, he's just a boy. Drinking isn't good for his development."
Coughing awkwardly, Riley flushed in embarrassment. *What does this little girl know about development?* Still, he couldn't argue with her.
Terry Al's response, however, brought Riley some relief. "If Mr. Riley insists, I'll drink a little. It won't hurt."
"That's still a no," Isa declared. "How about this—Al, why don't you two drink some juice instead?"
Terry Al nodded quickly. "I think Miss Isa's idea is excellent. Juice it is."
Pleased, Isa left to check on the meal, her expression triumphant.
As he watched her leave, Riley sighed and turned to Terry Al. "You haven't done anything to my daughter, have you?"
Terry Al's expression twisted in exasperation. "Come on, Mr. Riley. Look at me—do I even have the ability for that?"
Riley mulled it over and nodded. True, the boy's body was still growing, but his mind—now that was far too sharp for someone his age.