During the time when Avril was busily mending his clothes, Tyler ambled about, surveying the house.

Avril’s abode was a quaint, single-story log cabin. Upon entering, the living room and dining area greeted him, followed by a hallway leading to three bedrooms. Amongst these rooms, two bore wooden plaques with the names ‘Avril’ and ‘Elle’ inscribed upon them, which Tyler refrained from entering. The third room was the locked chamber Avril had mentioned earlier, its door seemingly no different from the others.

Returning to the main hall, Tyler noticed an array of sewing paraphernalia strewn about: needles of various sizes, threads of different hues and materials, an assortment of scissors, and neatly organized stacks of fabric. Recalling Granny Kana’s words about Avril’s late sister’s proficiency in sewing, Tyler wasn’t surprised at the abundance of such items in the house.

What truly intrigued Tyler, however, was Avril’s professional level: “Tailor – Lv4”. Village Chief Woodall, aged 48 with over two decades of hunting experience, had only reached “Hunter – Lv2”. In contrast, Avril, a mere 16 years old, boasted a far superior level. Why was she significantly more accomplished than the village chief?

Tyler had confirmed the method of leveling up in combat occupations during the previous night’s foray into the underground cave of Ira Forest: it required a certain degree of slaughter under specific conditions. Presuming that Production and Manufacturing occupations indeed leveled up through sheer perseverance, as the village chief suggested, the contradiction between the level and age differences of the village chief and Avril couldn’t be accounted for by this theory.

“…The rules hidden behind this world are certainly not as straightforward,” Tyler realized.

The true “laws of the world” might be a profound secret within the Prison Star world, and deciphering these rules could be a crucial element in completing the impossible task.

·

An hour later, garbed in his freshly mended clothes, Tyler took his leave from Avril’s home. As he was about to depart, Avril reached out a hand towards him, only to let it hover in the air before dropping it back down. Her expression bore a hint of hesitation.

Tyler, perceptive as he was, understood that Avril wished to invite him for lunch as a token of gratitude for his previous assistance and to apologise for her small tantrum the previous night. However, Tyler had his own rhythm to his strategies; he deliberately denied Avril this opportunity, as he believed that leaving a hint of regret at this moment was the “correct approach”.

The principle was simple; when one does not have their fill of a delicious dish, they’ll crave it again in a short time. But if one were to overindulge, no matter how delectable the dish, they would not wish to taste it again in the immediate future. This was also one of Tyler’s theories of romance: no matter how smoothly a relationship progresses, it was essential to leave a touch of longing at the right moment, a yearning. 𝗈𝒱𝗅xt.𝗰𝐎𝓂

·

That afternoon, the village chief sought Tyler, inviting him to join in a wild boar hunt in the Ira Forest. With the advent of high summer, the burgeoning boar population threatened significant damage to the farmlands and orchards.

Tyler, employing his mind-reading ability, noticed a shift in the village chief’s attitude from before and agreed to join with pleasure. After the Crimson Cloud Bandits incident, the village chief had let down his guard towards Tyler, deciding to impart his wealth of knowledge. This was the customary courtesy extended to benefactors in Ira Village.

“Banning, I thought you’d have taken off in the dead of night yesterday,” the village chief joked, referring to the prior day’s happenings. Tyler responded that he had left in haste upon discovering the bandits’ traces, cleverly dodging the question the village chief truly wished to ask: whether he planned to settle in Ira Village for the long term.

“Ah, in these past three years, I reckon about a dozen folk have disappeared overnight. I understand that ours is a village founded by wanderers, so such occurrences are common. But, you know, after sharing acquaintance, it seems right to bid a proper farewell before leaving, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed, I share the same view.”

Neither the village chief nor Tyler explicitly addressed the matter, but after this conversation, a bond of mutual trust was truly formed between them.

Subsequently, the village chief’s hunting lessons were nothing short of comprehensive. He imparted every minute detail of the two decades worth of experience and skills he had accumulated to Tyler, without any reservations.

Tyler was still intent on mastering the “Hunter” profession. Although he had acquired the combat profession of a “Junior Assassin”, the enhancement in physical abilities and the “Deceiver” skill didn’t provide much assistance in direct combat situations. On the other hand, the “Hunter” profession would be of great benefit to Tyler, both in terms of combat and wilderness survival.

“Do you see it? There are boar footprints on the ground over there. The unnaturally fallen shrubbery was likely knocked over by them, and the scraped bark on this tree trunk is also their doing.”

To be honest, Tyler couldn’t yet discern the footprints of different animals, let alone detect the subtle signs in the forest like the village chief. However, the appraisal ability of his “God’s Eye of Dimensions” was genuinely useful, allowing him to keep up with the pace of the village chief’s instructions. Under the chief’s demonstration, Tyler learned to set traps near animal trails. Afterward, they concealed themselves in the tree canopy, waiting for the boars to appear.

The village chief told Tyler that adult large boars were not only tough but also very aggressive. If one was hit by their robust tusks, there was a high likelihood of being pierced and killed on the spot. Therefore, for large boars estimated to weigh more than 400 pounds, the village chief would only scare them away with torches. The true targets of his hunt were the medium and small-sized boars.

“As long as the competition for food in the forest isn’t too fierce, the large boars won’t cause trouble for the village.”

Tyler and the village chief waited in the trees for two hours, during which they drove away three large boars. Then, with a distressing squeal from a not-too-distant location, they finally encountered a medium-to-small-sized boar suitable for hunting!

However, the hunting process was entirely different from what Tyler had imagined. The village chief demonstrated a particularly shameless hunting method. Faced with a boar that had stepped on a nail trap, the chief maintained distance using trees as cover, attacking its softer flanks and hindquarters with arrows from his hunting bow. This forced the boar to run around the forest, exhausting its strength. At the same time, due to its frantic movements, the wounds on the boar were unable to heal, resulting in a continuous loss of blood. After enduring this torment for over an hour, the boar, which seemed to weigh nearly 200 pounds, finally collapsed.

Even so, the experienced village chief did not approach the boar right away. He found a suitable angle, drew his bow, and once again, the sacred light shone brightly. With a swift release, an arrow shot out, hitting the boar right between the eyes. Only then did the boar tilt its head and give its last breath.

“The job’s not done yet. If you’re careless now, it could cost you heavily.”

The village chief instructed Tyler to stay put while he cautiously approached the boar. Swiftly, with a small knife, he cut open the blood vessels in the boar’s neck and quickly retreated. The boar, seemingly “dead,” suddenly squealed in pain, its body thrashing wildly, causing a mess all around. It wasn’t until several minutes later, as the blood gradually drained from its body, that the boar’s cries weakened, and it finally expired.

Now Tyler understood why the village chief, who had been hunting for over twenty years, had not sustained any serious injuries. The old man was truly steady and reliable.

Later, under the village chief’s guidance, Tyler hunted and killed a boar by himself. The process was not as smooth as the chief’s, but it was quite fluent nonetheless.

“Not bad, Banning! I didn’t expect you to have a knack for hunting. Have you had hunting experience before? Not many young people can handle this as well as you.”

“Well, I have a bit of experience, I guess.”

Seeing Tyler reluctant to elaborate, the village chief didn’t press further. But he couldn’t help feeling regretful. If Banning had arrived in Ira Village three years ago, then Elle wouldn’t have died tragically in the forest.