Over the next three days, a continuous stream of people flooded into the City of Bounties.
The streets became crowded and noisy.
There were travel-worn bounty hunters, most of them well-equipped with sharp, keen eyes.
There were adventure groups tasked with escorting commoner families.
They guarded the emaciated figures sitting in wheelchairs in the middle of the crowd.
Most of all, there were the families accompanying their elderly relatives.
Most of them were very young, some even half-grown children.
When trekking through the wilderness, youth meant a stronger chance of survival and less of a burden.
There were also the local impoverished families who had previously been scattered outside the city.
Most of them now gathered along the sides of the streets, watching everything in silence.
They were from the previous round of the selection meeting; their family members had not been deemed close enough to death.
To save on travel expenses, they had temporarily stayed behind in the City of Bounties.
Three days later, the selection meeting officially began.
There were no elaborate ceremonies or high-platform speeches as one might have imagined.
All the participants gathered in an open clearing outside the city.
Blackbeard stood at the very front, flanked by all the Royal Capital dwarves from the tavern.
They checked each elderly person's physical condition one by one, recording their names.
Afterward, the family members were allowed to step forward to say their final goodbyes.
There were hugs, whispers, silent tears, and even some kneeling and praying for the elderly to draw near to death.
Then, the dwarves stepped forward and poured bottles of "Iron Will" elixirs into the mouths of the elderly.
Next, they pushed the wheelchairs, heading in batches toward the gray-white wall of mist not far away.
The rules of the selection were incredibly simple yet brutal—one might even say cruel.
All the elderly participants would enter the misty areas outside the safe nodes.
They had to survive for five minutes while surrounded by spectral demons.
As long as they came out alive, they would obtain the qualification of a guide.
The hundred-odd elderly people were divided into ten batches.
One by one, the wheels of the wheelchairs rolled across the wasteland, slowly disappearing into the gray mist.
The dwarves let go and quickly withdrew.
Time ticked away.
The sun was harsh, beating down on the empty wasteland.
Beyond the wall of mist, there was dead silence.
Occasionally, a faint, muffled sob would drift from the deepest depths, only to vanish just as quickly.
Five minutes, ten minutes.
The first batch of dwarves re-entered the mist.
When they emerged, they were pushing the wheelchairs.
In the wheelchairs, the elderly slumped, their faces as pale as paper, but their chests were still rising and falling.
Some people cheered in low voices.
But even more people kept their eyes glued to the wall of mist.
The second batch of dwarves entered.
When they came out, the wheelchairs were empty.
In their place were several deep gouges on the backs of the chairs, looking as if they had been torn by invisible claws.
The splintered wood was stained with a dark red.
The third batch, the fourth batch...
As time went on, fewer and fewer intact wheelchairs were pushed back out.
Most of them were broken, covered in blood and severed limbs.
Those fragments and bloodstains looked exceptionally cold and glaring under the piercing sunlight.
The waiting family members reacted in various ways.
Some threw themselves onto the wheelchairs covered in blood and severed limbs, weeping loudly.
The blood of the elderly soaked their worn clothes.
Others rushed toward the empty wheelchairs stained with the remains of their loved ones.
At first they were dazed, then they erupted in fury.
“Why didn't you hold on?! You old geezer!”
“Why couldn't you hold on just a little longer?!”
“How much money did I spend taking care of you?!”
“You're dead... It's all over!!”
Some even lost control, kicking the wheelchairs as they cursed and wailed.
It wasn't until the cold gazes of the dwarves swept over them...
...that they fell silent as if choked, trembling and taking a step back.
The selection meeting had begun with great fanfare, but it ended with startling speed.
In less than half an hour, the dust had settled.
Of the hundred-odd elderly people, only six ultimately returned alive to the sunlight.
Blackbeard stepped forward. According to the rules, he reimbursed all the participating families for their travel commission fees and distributed ten gold coins to each as compensation.
Ten gold coins was already a small fortune for an ordinary family.
But compared to the hiring that was about to begin, it was negligible.
The six elderly people were brought to the front of the clearing one by one.
They were arranged according to their current health status.
The one in the worst physical condition, looking as if they would draw their last breath at any second, was placed at the very edge.
The one who was in the best spirits and could even manage to sit up straight was positioned in the middle.
The atmosphere quietly shifted.
Before the selection, everyone had hoped their elderly relatives were close enough to death.
But now, whether it was the families or the watching bounty hunters, they all had only one hope.
“Live just a little longer.”
“At least enough to guide us for two days.”
Blackbeard cleared his throat and spoke in a booming voice:
“Now, let the bidding for the hire begin.”
“First up, Old John. Physical condition: Poor. Estimated effective guiding time: One day.”
“Starting price: fifty thousand gold coins.”
After a brief silence, the bids began to ring out one after another.
“Fifty-five thousand!”
“Sixty thousand!”
“Seventy thousand!”
The elderly man named Old John hung his head, his breathing faint, completely unresponsive to the clamor around him.
His family was there too.
A young brother and sister clenched their hands so tightly that their nails dug into their palms.
Ultimately, the price settled at two hundred thousand gold coins.
He was bought by the Demon Hunter, Cass.
The siblings let out a sigh of relief, but their eyes grew red at the same time.
They walked over to their grandfather, knelt down, and whispered to him.
The elderly man raised his hand with extreme slowness, gently patting his grandson's head.
The second, the third...
The prices climbed steadily along with the health status of the elderly.
When it came to the sixth one...
The one in the best condition, the atmosphere suddenly grew white-hot.
He could still sit up straight on his own, and though his eyes were cloudy, they could still focus.
“Starting price: fifty thousand.”
“One hundred thousand!”
“One hundred and fifty thousand!”
“Two hundred thousand!”
“Three hundred thousand!”
The bids rose one after another, the sum of gold coins climbing at a staggering speed.
Four hundred thousand, five hundred thousand, seven hundred thousand...
In the end, the price stopped at nine hundred and fifty thousand gold coins.
It was won by a sweet-looking girl.
The entire clearing fell silent for a brief moment.
Nine hundred and fifty thousand.
To the vast majority of people present, this was an astronomical figure.
The elderly man's family was also present.
A thin, petite girl and her mother were completely dazed.
They covered their mouths as tears silently rolled down their cheeks.
It was not out of sadness, but utter bewilderment and helplessness.
The elderly man in the wheelchair looked at his granddaughter's dazed expression and forced a smile.
He reached out a trembling hand and took her small hand.
His voice was hoarse, yet filled with clear tenderness:
“Lulu... from now on, you'll be able to live in a spacious, clean white house.”
“No one will look down on you anymore... and you can go study magic...”
“Didn't you always want to... fly freely in the sky like the witches in the fairy tale books?”
The little girl burst into tears with a loud sob, tightly hugging her grandfather's withered arm:
“I don't want to study magic! I don't want a white house!”
“I just want you... I just want Grandpa...”
The elderly man's eyes grew red, but he only gently patted his granddaughter's back.
Another elderly man nearby, who had been bought for eight hundred thousand gold coins, suddenly coughed a few times.
Weakly, he curled his lips at the sobbing little girl:
“Hey, little girl...”
“For old relics like us, being able to live until we die of natural causes is already the grace of the Goddess of Light.”
He paused to catch his breath:
“Look at everyone else... some get fed to demons, some die of sickness, some get beaten to death...”
“For us... to be able to earn such a massive fortune for our families before we go...”
“It's a blessing.”
“Even if I die right now, I'll go willingly.”
After saying this, he fell into another violent fit of coughing.
His family members quickly stepped forward, carefully patting his back to soothe him and covering up his pathetic state.
Their eyes darted nervously toward the hunter who had bought them, deeply afraid that the buyer might back out of the deal.
Rate on N.U.
