Just as Clayton was about to lose all hope, his eyes caught sight of a trap he had set earlier. An idea immediately sparked in his mind.

Without hesitation, he threw himself toward it. As soon as his body hit the ground, the mechanism activated, striking with force and damaging the filaments wrapped around him.

Fortunately, the black threads had absorbed most of the impact, though they frayed and weakened in the process.

Sensing the slime's grip loosening, Clayton quickly reached into his spatial pouch and pulled out a magic scroll. With the last of his mana, he managed to activate it.

A soft light bloomed and washed over his body, filling him with an incredible sense of comfort. The black filaments reacted violently—writhing like ants doused in hot oil.

Clayton smiled. His attack had worked.

Wasting no time, he grabbed another scroll and tossed it toward his skeletons. The loosened filaments reformed into a black slime. Enraged, it launched itself at Clayton with renewed fury.

But as it drew closer, his soul trembled—not like when the Dragon-Scale Arowana had roared, but as if he were facing a ghostly woman laughing, weeping, and screaming all at once.

Realizing this creature was the true source of the spiritual unrest he had felt, Clayton commanded his skeletons to accelerate the scroll's activation.

Swoosh!

Just before the slime reached him, it froze mid-air and collapsed. A faint black fluid began to ooze from its trembling body.

Clayton saw a glimmer of hope. The slime was terrified. Within seconds, it turned and tried to flee.

But Clayton wasn't about to let it go.

"Heh. You almost killed me, and now you think you can just run away? Not a chance!" he shouted.

He immediately activated two purification scrolls at once.

The fleeing slime couldn't escape the holy light that surged forth like lightning. In the blink of an eye, it melted into nothing beneath the purifying glow.

Clayton collapsed to the ground, breathless and drained, his chest heaving as relief washed over him.

After a short rest, he examined the remains. No core, no organs—just residual ooze. After a thorough check, he confirmed the creature was a lake soot, or water blight—a low-tier, one-star evil slime born from environmental corruption and spiritual filth.

He gathered the residue carefully. Despite its origins, it was a valuable material for crafting dark-element magic scrolls.

After all the chaos, he no longer felt like fishing. He decided to head home, bringing along the two fish he had caught.

As he passed through the farmland, Liora spotted him and gave him a puzzled, concerned look.

"Afternoon, Liora."

"Afternoon, Brother Clayton… Where have you been? Why are your clothes wet and covered in black soot?"

"I went fishing. Fell into the water by accident."

"Oh, I see…"

"Yeah. Hey, let's eat fish together later. I caught a pretty big one this time," Clayton said proudly, lifting the fish.

"No, Brother Clayton, you eat it yourself. A fish like that is rare and valuable."

"Nah, don't worry about it. I'll come by once it's cooked!"

Before Liora could argue, Clayton had already walked off.

Back home, he began preparing the fish using recipes he remembered. Before long, the aroma of sizzling oil and herbs filled the air.

Once everything was ready, he packed the food and headed toward Lorenzo's house. But just a few steps outside, he ran into a group of familiar villagers.

"Hey, Clayton! Where you headed?"

"Going to Uncle Lorenzo's. Why?"

"We're heading out to hunt. It's the farming off-season, so we formed a team. Wanna come?"

"Yeah, join us! The more people, the safer!"

Clayton smiled politely. "Ah, no thanks. I've still got something to do."

"You sure? If we get a good haul, everyone profits."

"No, really, I've got something important," he said as he walked away.

When he arrived at Lorenzo's house, the middle-aged man greeted him with a warm smile.

"Clayton, why go through all this trouble? I didn't believe Liora at first, but she was right! You really are good at fishing!"

"Haha, it's nothing, Uncle. Let's go fishing together sometime."

"Absolutely! I've always wondered what it's like to fish for magical beasts!"

They chatted away, time passing unnoticed. Liora, having just finished preparing food, brought it out for them to enjoy together.

The three of them ate with genuine happiness.

After the meal, Clayton said his goodbyes and headed home. On the way back, he passed by the same hunting group again—now ten strong.

They greeted him again and invited him to join, but Clayton politely declined.

Watching him walk away, Bravus couldn't hold back his irritation.

"Tch, look at that guy. Just because he's good at farming, he acts all high and mighty! In this world, power is everything! Guys like him—rich but weak—will die horribly sooner or later!"

"Look at Arthur! He's strong, doesn't talk much, but people respect him."

"This hunt will be a huge success with Arthur on our side!"

"And Clayton? He won't even mix with us poor farmers. He thinks he's better than us. What kind of neighbor acts like that?"

The others didn't reply, but their expressions showed quiet agreement.

"Right, Equus? You agree, don't you?" Bravus asked.

Equus, who had been silent, was startled. His mind flashed back to that night, and fear clutched his heart.

"Damn it, stupid Bravus! Who said he's weak? If you want to die, don't drag me with you!" he thought.

"Hey, Equus, you listening?" Bravus pressed again.

"Huh? Sorry, I was distracted."

Bravus rolled his eyes. "Forget it. Not a big deal."

Equus nodded, and the group continued in silence.

...

The next morning, Clayton began tending to the tea tree he had recently acquired. He gently cleaned it, then planted a few strange seeds in the last two remaining low-tier, one-star clay pots.

The seeds had lost most of their vitality due to late planting. But with the help of his Farmer's Intuition and Observationentries, Clayton did his best to nurture them.

Still, he didn't have high hopes. His intuition told him something was missing in his process—but the entry's level was too low to tell what.

All he could do now was wait and hope that someday, he'd find the answer.

While he was deeply focused on his farming, a group of hunters arrived, fully geared.

"Hey Clayton, this is your important business? Planting seeds in the cold? You're not afraid they'll freeze?" someone mocked.

"Yeah! Clearly you made that excuse up. Just admit you were too lazy to come hunting!" Bravus sneered.

Clayton frowned, confused by their sudden hostility. He was sure he hadn't offended anyone.

Bravus kept pushing. "What? You upset now?"

Clayton stared at him sharply. Equus, standing nearby, instinctively stepped back, a flicker of fear flashing across his face.

Arthur, who had been silently observing, narrowed his eyes. Why was Clayton farming in this weather? Why was Bravus provoking him? And why did Equus suddenly look so afraid?

He studied Clayton intently, as if trying to peel away layers—to uncover whatever secrets the man was hiding.

Sensing the scrutiny, Clayton met his gaze. For a heartbeat, the world fell silent—their stares locked in a wordless clash of will and curiosity.