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  Jack entered through the front door of the Golden Pumpkin Tavern. As soon as he stepped inside, he saw the cheerful and welcoming atmosphere within. Many families came here to eat every day; the prices were affordable for everyone. Most of the ingredients used in the village were produced locally, so there were no concerns about shortages. Thankfully, the innkeeper kept her prices low for all. Most of her earnings came from the rooms she rented to travelers, which was why those rooms were slightly more expensive than in other places.

  Jack walked toward the bar located on the right side of the tavern. When he arrived, he waited for Darlene, the innkeeper, to come out of the kitchen. Meanwhile, his eyes carefully observed the tavern, analyzing who his next victim might be.

  The Golden Pumpkin Tavern had two floors. The first floor held most of the tables. On the wall farthest from the entrance stood a small stage where some people would go up to sing, especially Sonia Merino. A foreigner who had settled in the village several years ago, her voice was excellent, and even though she did not need to, she always sang at night for everyone. It was a performance no one wanted to miss.

  Jack’s gaze shifted to the upper area where Sonia was seated, drinking pumpkin beer. Her expression was calm as she ate with extremely elegant manners, a sight that naturally drew attention. Her short blonde hair covered her ears. Her body was slender with gentle curves. Her face had refined, almost noble features. Her eyes seemed indifferent as she looked at no place in particular. When she noticed Jack staring, she smiled kindly at him, and he returned the smile just as politely.

  ‘I don’t think I could scare her. Miss Sonia may be kind, but she has a hot temper. She would probably chase me down in anger and attack me afterward.’

  Jack’s gaze continued wandering across the tavern. Between the tables, Phoebe could be seen walking with a hot plate in her hands, placing it carefully on one of the occupied tables. Her radiant smile was something truly beautiful. She wore a cute uniform she had customized herself. She did not help out of obligation; she did it by her own will, out of the kindness of her heart. It was an image many of the regular customers loved to see.

  ‘If her mother had not refused, she would have been receiving ecclesiastical training long ago.’ Jack shook his head. ‘Phoebe can sense when someone intends to harm her. She would never be frightened.’

  Jack gave up on the idea of scaring Phoebe—not only because it would be a complete failure, but also because he genuinely liked her and would not attempt to frighten her.

  His gaze returned upstairs, especially toward the guest rooms, but none were occupied. There were no outsiders he could target.

  ‘What bad luck,’ he sighed. ‘I could have told them some superstition and then scared them afterward. But that won’t be possible.’

  Travelers were not common; not many stopped in the village. The few who had stayed became new residents, people who had already planned to abandon the air of the city. Some outsiders, however, were acquaintances of the Charnock family—important individuals who stayed in some of the many houses the family still owned in the western part of the village. Little by little, they were selling those houses.

  But news traveled like bees. If there were any Charnock guests, the entire village would know. Unfortunately, they were not ideal targets for Jack either.

  ‘There is not a single Charnock visitor in the village at the moment, and there is no news of preparations to receive guests.’

  “Hmmm.” Jack looked at the others.

  ‘The elderly are out of the question. They are too old. I could kill them… though some are already halfway to the grave…’ He thought about it for a moment, analyzing the pros and cons. ‘No, no. Of course not. Well, maybe. No. That’s a stupid impulse.’

  Just as his thoughts were becoming dangerously affirmative, three young men entered the tavern. Each wore light, comfortable clothing, yet they were equipped with simple weapons. No one felt intimidated by their arrival. Everyone knew them.

  The village hunters—or rather, the hunters of the Dawnson family.

  Erik Dawnson, a young member of the Dawnson family and younger brother of Tom Dawnson. His face was firm and slightly tanned from long afternoons working in the fields since childhood. He was taller than average, and his expression showed arrogance—a youthful pride shaped by his own confidence and his family’s reputation.

  At his side stood the only son of old Greenwood, the owner of the medical office next to the tavern. Rubert Greenwood had a slim and agile build. His face was long, his nose sharp, and his ears large, as if he could hear everything around him. Behind him he carried a large backpack filled with jars and wooden boxes. Attached to it was a large family map that had been updated over the last three generations since the founding of the village. At his waist rested a long, heavy dagger, similar to a kitchen knife.

  Following them was Leonart Brown. He had a serious and irritated expression, though he was not truly angry; his thin eyebrows simply gave his face that appearance. His body was tall and well trained. His head was shaved close, leaving only a faint shadow of hair. At his left side hung a sharp, shining sword. Of the three, he was the only one carrying a weapon of true quality—nothing compared to Erik’s bow. This sword was made of pure steel with military engravings, brought by his grandfather. A real knight’s sword, not an imitation found in ordinary smithies. It was the only memory of his grandfather’s days as a knight. Leonart Brown was considered better than his father, though not better than his grandfather. If the family were still living in the great city, Leonart would have joined the Official Order of Knights long ago.

  The three entered the tavern and quickly reached the bar near the entrance.

  “Darlene, the provisions,” Erik requested without courtesy or decorum. His voice was strong but not a shout. Still, everyone in the tavern noticed the proud and arrogant tone.

  Jack gave them a quick glance. His conclusion about them was almost the same as with Sonia. They would attack him in anger if he tried to scare them.

  “It’s for today, Darlene,” Erik emphasized, wearing his broad arrogant smile.

  Darlene came out. Her usually cheerful face now carried a serious and slightly annoyed expression.

  “Erik, you are no one to speak to me like that. I am not obligated to give you anything.”

  She was a large woman with strong arms. Her muscular build was even broader than Leonart’s. Her physique made her look like a warrior from ancient times, and despite her strength, there was not a trace of excess fat on her body. Her hazel eyes darkened with her mood before she turned her gaze in the opposite direction.

  With her keen innkeeper’s hearing, she had already noticed a customer had arrived. He had not called for her, knowing she was busy in the kitchen. Soon, in about three hours, it would be lunchtime. The stews had already been cooking since early morning so they would have the exact and perfect flavor of recipes developed over many years.

  “Jack! What a joy to see you!” Darlene exclaimed, ignoring the trio of hunters.

  “Good morning, Darlene.” Jack laughed softly, his tone slightly mocking because of how she treated the trio. “Don’t worry about me. I can wait patiently here.”

  Erik understood perfectly that Jack’s laughter, which often seemed innocent, was not innocent this time. His face tightened as he was ignored.

  ‘That damn brat,’ Erik thought through clenched teeth.

  “No, not at all, Jack. There is no problem here. Did you come to eat? Would you like eggs and bread?” Darlene lifted a wooden cup and filled it with apple juice. “There’s still fresh bread. Do you want some?”

  “Thank you, Darlene, but no. Today I came to leave you my cart of pumpkins so you can use them.”

  “I see.” Darlene’s expression softened further as she looked through the front window, where the silhouette of the pumpkin cart could be seen. “How many did you bring this time?”

  “I brought about thirty pumpkins, all large and freshly harvested. You can keep all thirty. I’ll bring another batch to the Charnocks another day.”

  “Thirty pumpkins, then?” Darlene began counting coins from an iron box hidden beneath the counter and placed them on the bar for Jack to count.

  At market price they would be twenty Mamz per unit, but since it was the season of abundance for pumpkins in the country, the price was reduced by half—ten Mamz each.

  “That makes 300 Mamz, Jack. Thank you for prioritizing the tavern.” Darlene smiled as she handed him the set of coins engraved at the top.

  The Mamz came in denominations of 1, 10, 50, 100, and 1000. Each one was larger and brighter than the last. On the reverse side, instead of numbers, each coin bore different symbols with detailed decorations. The Mamz had a greenish color like moss, mixed with orange tones leaning toward copper. They were almost impossible to imitate and were said to be the most imposing and valuable currency in the world. Though Jack could not confirm that rumor, since he had never left the village—perhaps when he was a baby, but at that time he had not even been in this body.

  “Thank you, Darlene. I’ll take that bread after all,” Jack said with a smile, leaving one Mamz on the counter.

  “Fine, but I’ll put it on the coals for a moment so it warms up,” Darlene replied as she went back into the kitchen without caring whether Jack preferred it warm or not.

  Jack smiled at Darlene’s kindness. Kind and cheerful—those were the best words to describe her. That was why the place was always so full and lively. Both people of high prestige and the simple crowd enjoyed it. Several prestigious individuals had offered Darlene a position as a cook in the city.

  If not for her love of tranquility, she might have accepted long ago.

  A deliberate tapping on the wood sounded near Jack. Intentionally, he turned his gaze toward the source of the sound and met Erik’s irritated stare.

  “Jack O’Lantern.”

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  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Erik Dawnson, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Jack covered his smile with his hand, making a mocking yet elegant gesture. “Oh! Sorry she didn’t attend you first. It’s just that I was here before you arrived. You know how to count, right? I go first.”

  He let out a soft laugh, pretending to restrain it—though his effort to contain it was obviously minimal. In truth, he was not trying to hold it back at all.

  Erik’s face turned red with anger, but he did nothing that would bring him harm.

  “You little bastard. I don’t understand how my brother still allows you to cultivate on that land of yours.”

  Erik stepped forward, but a heavy slam against the bar stopped him.

  The tall and strong innkeeper looked down at him. Her cold, threatening gaze was enough to make the three of them step back and reconsider any foolish attempt.

  “I don’t want trouble. Besides, aren’t you a little too grown to lower yourself to his level?”

  Erik clenched his teeth, glaring at Darlene with deep hatred.

  “You know the rules. No fighting!” Darlene made it clear.

  “Hmph.” Erik shot Jack an unfriendly look before turning back to Darlene.

  “The usual.” Without saying more, he left several Mamz on the counter.

  Darlene, clearly eager for them to leave, returned to the kitchen to prepare their provisions.

  “Going to the forest?” Jack asked in the driest tone possible.

  “Yes. Why? Do you want to join us?” Erik replied, narrowing his eyes without hiding his malice.

  “No. Just confirming.” Jack took a sip of apple juice. The sweet and refreshing drink slid down his throat as he looked at Erik and the others.

  Jack’s eyes showed little emotion beyond indifference. Yet Erik thought he saw, hidden deep within them, a faint thirst for revenge—something he believed he could take advantage of.

  “What? Are you going to follow us and attack?” Erik asked with a mocking laugh. He did not fear retaliation from Jack. He was young, and although his body was strong, it was not enough to subdue the three of them—perhaps not even one.

  Needless to say, each of them possessed abilities Jack did not.

  Weak.

  That was the word both Erik and the other two used to describe him.

  “No, no. Not at all. I was just thinking about something regarding the forest.” Jack shook his head, as if whatever information he held was unimportant.

  But for three experienced hunters, his words set off alarms.

  Information was key. Vital.

  They were not novices. They understood the value of knowledge. Many things could be found in the forest—wolves, bears, and other dangers. Without prior knowledge, the forest could become a deadly place for anyone who entered it.

  Even if the information was false, they preferred to know it beforehand.

  “What do you want in exchange for telling us what you saw?”

  “See? No, I didn’t see it.” Jack shook his head, then suddenly raised his voice with strange anxiety. “I heard it! Which is very different. You don’t need to pay me. I don’t wish you harm either.”

  “Then speak. What did you see in Greenwood Forest?” Rubert asked with curiosity. As a descendant of the adventurer Greenwood, he felt a natural pull toward the forest’s depths and whatever happened within them.

  “Last night, something strange happened in the forest. At first, I wasn’t sure. But then…” Jack fell silent, as if afraid to continue. His eyes showed deep anxiety. “I refuse to believe it, but what happened in that forest last night—I’m certain it was real. Very real! I assure you! They have always called me crazy, but only yesterday did I truly feel like a madman.”

  His voice grew softer, quieter, almost a whisper, as if he did not wish to share this information with every listener. Everyone could feel his fear and disbelief. At the same time, they waited expectantly for his next words.

  “There is something in that forest. I’m not sure what it was, but from my house I could hear its footsteps. They were so heavy that I could see birds and animals fleeing. I could feel my bed trembling. At first, I thought it was part of a dream. But when I got out of bed, I knew it wasn’t.”

  Jack looked at Erik. The three of them stared back at him seriously.

  “A black bear?” Rubert murmured, the most logical answer.

  “No!” Jack struck the bar. “It was bigger than a black bear. I could hear its strange growls—it sounded like wood constantly breaking.” The trembling in Jack’s body intensified, a reflection of his fear. “…I think the trees were moving.”

  The tavern was swallowed by deep silence. Even Sonia looked toward Jack. Some faces, however, showed disbelief.

  “Ha! Nonsense. If you wanted to scare us, then you failed,” Erik barked, irritated—though in his eyes there was a faint trace of fear.

  Rubert shook his head while Leonart gave a heavy sigh, as if they were wasting time.

  Darlene had returned with the hunters’ provisions and Jack’s warm bread. She had been there for a while, but only now made her presence known.

  “It’s a good story, Jack,” Darlene said with a somewhat stiff smile. She handed him the warm bread and then gave the provisions to the three hunters.

  Jack lowered his head as if resigned to their disbelief, yet a faint amused smile lingered on his face.

  He quickly recovered, took the warm bread, thanked Darlene, and ran out toward his house—though indirectly, he was heading toward Greenwood Forest, located south of the village.

  As he took a large bite of the warm bread, he grabbed some discarded ropes from the Charnocks’ horse corral. The ropes were old and slightly worn. They would not last long without proper care. But Jack knew the Charnocks well. Those ropes had been left there intentionally, discarded and waiting for someone to take and use them.

  The pride of the Charnock family was immense. They would never go around offering what they no longer used just to praise their own generosity. No. They discarded what they did not need like trash. And if someone found use for that trash, then so be it.

  He entered the forest and searched for everything he needed.

  ‘I only have one chance,’ Jack thought as he moved deeper into the woods, using his intuition to determine which path the hunters would take. ‘The usual routes are an option, but they might not use them this time. Too many possibilities. This is complicated. If the system would give me some kind of skill, or a map, or something like that, it would be much easier.’

  Unconsciously, Jack opened the interface, hoping to see some change in response to his desire. But the system remained inert, without any update.

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  The trio of hunters entered the forest through one of the paths near the Dawnson farm, gradually heading east as they walked south.

  Rubert carried a large map in his hands. It bore markings in various colors—some outlining rivers, cliffs, and ravines; others indicating animal trails and the territories of more dangerous creatures. The map was detailed, though clearly a copy of an older one, as the paper was far too white to be original.

  “We’ll gather herbs to the east first, then move deeper into the forest to collect insects. If we’re lucky, we’ll circle back from the west and run into the deer herd,” Rubert said while glancing between the map and a small notebook where he had recorded timelines for their usual routes. One page showed dates from a calendar, all crossed out until today’s. October first.

  “We should camp in the forest one day. That way we wouldn’t have to wait for the deer and other animals to come near the village. If we go deeper in, we could hunt with more precision,” Leonart said in a dry voice, lacking strong emotion. He often gave off an unfriendly impression, though it was mostly his stern expression and deep, restrained tone. In truth, he was usually calm.

  “No. Absolutely not. My great-great-grandfather warned us never to sleep in the forest. He insisted on it in his journal—that we must refrain from spending the night there. I won’t do it. If you want to discover the horrors my ancestor warned about, you’re free to try. But don’t count me in,” Rubert replied, alarmed. It wasn’t the first time Leonart had suggested it, and he was tired of repeating himself—but he also didn’t want anything happening to his friend.

  “The hunters paid by the Charnocks are more numerous. Even if they don’t have your family’s map, Rubert, your great-great-grandfather took risks to explore this forest. If you don’t take them too, there won’t be funding left to explore it later,” Leonart shot back, irritation creeping into his voice.

  “What is there to worry about? My family arrived only a few years after the Dawnsons and the Charnocks. Nearly five generations have passed since the town was founded—one hundred and fifty years, if you remember. We don’t have a single financial problem,” Rubert said with pride.

  Leonart’s family was different. They had arrived barely two generations ago. It was his grandfather who had settled in the village not long ago. They still had to worry about paying for the land they lived on.

  “Be quiet. You’re making too much noise. Your pointless arguments are starting to irritate me,” Erik snapped, deep anger in his voice.

  Leonart and Rubert turned to him. Erik frowned, clearly annoyed by their chatter.

  “Still upset about Jack’s joke?” Rubert asked, unconcerned with Erik’s attitude.

  “Jack, Jack—that damned fool. Just because his family is important in the city, he comes here and does whatever he pleases. My brother is an idiot.” Erik spat on the ground, imagining it was his brother’s face.

  “Erik, I don’t think I need to remind you that it was thanks to them that the village has streetlamps at night. Otherwise we’d still be walking in darkness,” Leonart replied dryly. “Because of them, night patrols are easier. Almost no village has streetlamps.”

  “What do I care? Sooner or later we could have paid for them. Even the church could have,” Erik growled.

  Crack—

  All three froze, scanning their surroundings. The fog obscured their sight, though it wasn’t thick enough to blind them completely.

  “Wasn’t me,” Leonart muttered, glancing at his feet. He hadn’t stepped on a single branch.

  “Stay alert. Something is watching us,” Rubert said, eyes sweeping the area. A faint tingling crept behind his ears.

  Erik tensed his bow, watching both the treetops and the undergrowth. None of them thought about what Jack had said at the tavern. Nonsense from a madman—that was all. They focused on what was logical. On what they knew could inhabit this part of the forest.

  Wolves. Bears. Perhaps a panther. Creatures recorded in Rubert’s ancestor’s journal.

  Another crack sounded—deeper this time, closer, longer. As if something massive were splintering wood that took time to break. The drawn-out sound made their thoughts drift, unwillingly, back to the madman’s words.

  “Nonsense,” Rubert murmured, tightening his grip on his dagger as his vigilance sharpened.

  He rejected those foolish thoughts again and again. Yet the image of something impossible grew clearer in his mind. His hand began to tremble. Rubert knew the forest—but he also knew what his ancestor had written:

  Doubt the forest.

  For the first time, he did.

  Leonart had already drawn his sword and stepped in front of his friends. He was prepared for anything. Any beast that approached—he believed he could stop it. Even a bear.(Though realistically, he doubted he truly could.)

  “A bear?” Leonart asked, clinging to the most logical—and worst—possibility.

  Many bears were large enough to break tree trunks with their weight alone.

  “I don’t know,” Rubert replied. “Maybe.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know? Is it a bear or not?” Erik snapped.

  “How do you expect me to know from a sound like that?!”

  The wood cracked again—violently this time.

  Then the fog stirred with heavy movement. Birds burst into the air in panic. The forest filled with agitation, with sound from every direction.

  They spun, watching everything at once. Their world seemed to turn with them, eyes following the imagined rotation of the earth—until suddenly it stopped.

  From above, only a few meters away, something struck the ground with the force of a falling tree. The earth trembled. They stood frozen until the rumbling ceased.

  When they looked toward the source of the sound, their faces had gone pale.

  None of them saw what caused it.

  But they were certain of one thing.

  “That’s not a bear,” Rubert concluded, stepping back in fear.

  Erik didn’t bother arguing the obvious. Leonart struggled to keep his grip steady on his sword.

  Several identical impacts rang out again nearby, accompanied by shrill squeals that retreated deeper into the forest—like pigs being whipped.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Erik finally shouted, bolting away with the others.

  As they ran, a large beehive fell onto the path before them. The bees erupted in agitation, stinging them lightly as they fled further into the forest.

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  “Hahahahaha!”

  Jack laughed, clutching his stomach. Tears formed in his eyes as he stared in the direction the trio of hunters had fled.

  He had to hold onto the branch he was perched on to avoid falling to a horrible end. Before him yawned a large hollow where a bird’s nest had once rested—now empty.

  [5/5 People Frightened]

  [Congratulations on Completing the Mission]

  [You Have Received 1 Stat Point]

  [+3 Experience Points]

  “I see… so I earned the Dread points during the mission. Shame. I was hoping for bonus points. Though I think I should’ve leveled up already, right?”

  Jack breathed heavily, trying to calm his laughter, though the bright amusement never left his face.

  Status Window

  [Race: Human]

  [Level: 1]

  [Exp: 0]

  [Physical: 0] [+]

  [Speed: 0] [+]

  [Lucidity: 3] [+]

  [Dread: 10]

  [Stat Points: 2]

  “Two stat points!” Jack shouted excitedly, wobbling on the branch and grabbing it again to avoid falling. “Of course—I leveled up from this! So every time I level up, I get an extra stat point. Good to know.”

  He assigned one point to each stat that had been at zero.

  Immediately, he felt something strange—like something ethereal within his body had begun to move and was being absorbed into him.

  Or rather, something that had always been there was finally taking its place.

  Jack’s Dread stat began to decrease.

  [Dread: 10]

  [Dread: 9/10]

  [Dread: 8/10]

  [Dread: 7/10]

  [Dread: 6/10]

  [Dread: 5/10]

  The sensation was uncomfortable—slightly painful. No visible changes occurred, but he knew he was different. The tingling across his body, the cracking of his bones—it was overwhelming. Nausea rose violently in his throat. He truly felt like he was going to vomit.

  Unwilling to vomit into the hollow, Jack leaned aside and retched. The vomit was green with an intense reddish hue. It felt like he had expelled more than just the food he’d eaten earlier.

  [Congratulations on Ranking Up!]

  Jack saw the notification, but the discomfort worsened as his Dread stat continued to drop.

  “Disgusting,” he muttered. “Not again…”

  And once more, he vomited.

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