Chapter 1247 - 613: Recruitment Order

Walking along the streets of Saltrock Harbor, Shanan paid no mind to the myriad gazes occasionally cast his way, his thoughts lingering on the young fisherman named "Wenser" he had just met.

His keen perception allowed him to sense the boy’s distressed mental state as soon as he boarded the small fishing boat.

The gloomy emotion revealed in their subsequent conversation further confirmed this.

However, they were merely strangers meeting for the first time.

Out of courtesy, Shanan wouldn’t actively inquire about the other’s past experiences nor presumptuously speculate about the boy’s painful history.

The boy brought him to the port, briefly introduced the town’s situation, and Shanan paid the corresponding compensation. That was the extent of their relationship.

Merely a passerby met during a journey, though Wenser’s later refusal of payment greatly enhanced his impression in Shanan’s mind, it still wasn’t enough for him to transform into a psychological expert and volunteer to solve the other’s troubles.

What was truly important now, was finding the dwelling of Barbarian Fugang.

"Clack."

Still slightly moist, the sturdy leather boots halted in place as he alternated his steps forward.

Shanan looked up, and before him was an oak signboard jutting out from under the eaves, adorned with a pattern of dried herrings.

——Pickled Fish Tavern.

In the small city of Saltrock Harbor, one of the few places where adventurers often gather.

His destination, determined by the intelligence from Wenser and the information from passersby near the port.

Pushing the door open, the warm, heavy scent of alcohol mixed with noisy chatter greeted him.

It was indeed a gathering place for adventurers, yet due to the nature of Saltrock Harbor being a small town, someone like Shanan, fully equipped with fine gear and obviously a seasoned adventurer, was still rare.

With the crisp sound of a bell hanging on the door board colliding, the tavern’s noise remained unchanged, but scrutinizing and fearful gazes naturally gathered upon Shanan from various tables.

Already accustomed to this, Shanan’s expression remained placid. His overall demeanor, enhanced by his sharp features and equipment, appeared cold and stern, naturally creating a protective shield, isolating him from unnecessary trouble.

His gaze swept over the tavern hall, his perception keenly observing.

Compared to Suo Yu Bay’s Three-legged Sea Dog, the Pickled Fish Tavern fell short in all aspects.

The dim oil lamps, assisted by the flames in the fireplace, barely illuminated the hall, while the relatively clean wooden walls bore cheap decorations like sea beast bones and metal fish spears.

Uniform, featureless tables crammed the hall with crowded posture, coupled with the pile of bottles on the tables and scattered debris on the floor, giving the tavern a chaotic and messy appearance.

As for the patrons...

From his quick scan, Shanan found nothing noteworthy.

All seemed to be ordinary adventurers yet to reach a professional level.

The only two that caught his gaze a bit longer were a pair, one young and one middle-aged, sitting in the corner of the hall.

The young one had a striking head of gold hair, his face suggesting an age similar to Wenser. Though cladded in loose robes, concealing his gear, his relatively fair skin hinted at a comfortable upbringing, having never performed heavy work under the sun.

The middle-aged man sitting opposite exuded calm; his hair was white, similarly robed as the youth but with a straight bearing, almost as if a result of prolonged training, his sharp eyes surveying around, vigilant of danger.

Through his excellent perception attributes, Shanan discerned various details about their relationship within mere seconds.

Despite sitting opposite each other at the table, the gold-haired youth was positioned deeper in the corner.

Behind and to the left were walls, relatively safe.

While the white-haired middle-aged man had only one side against the wall, exposing his straight, slightly tensed back.

As Shanan entered the tavern without concealment.

It was natural that his presence also attracted the attention of the two in the corner.

The gold-haired youth, with sapphire-blue eyes always restless, would glance at a passing tavern waiter or at sailors standing and shouting in the neighboring card game.

Upon hearing the door open and seeing Shanan enter, discernibly equipped unlike the ordinary adventurers seen en route, he exhibited immense interest.

Not out of malice, purely from curiosity, his fiery gaze scanning over Shanan’s swords, armor, and leg guards.

It wasn’t until his lower leg was gently kicked underneath the table by the middle-aged man opposite, seemingly reminding him, that he suddenly reacted.

He quickly retracted his gaze, deliberately cleared his throat, instinctively reaching for the empty cup on the table pretending to have something to do, only to find it dry. His fingers diverted mid-air, somewhat forcefully scratching his neck.