Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game

Chapter 83.2: Scary Lady

Chapter 83.2: Scary Lady

Once the lady was some distance away, Gault, who had stood stiffly in the midst of the dazed crowd, was overwhelmed by a sensation of exhaustion.

Describing this feeling would be like how a person traveling on a mountain path would feel after spotting an extremely venomous snake at his feet but managed to escape without being bitten. A mixture of relief, dread, and an almost surreal sense, as if just having awakened from a nightmare.

Nevertheless, Gauld felt that something was amiss.

Weisshem was a haven for wealthy men, but it wasn't completely devoid of esteemed ladies—a baron had spent an entire summer squandering his estate's profits here and refused to return home until the baroness, accompanied by an entourage of servants and stewards, arrived to forcibly retrieve him.

How can a noble lady come out without a large entourage?

At this thought, Gauld immediately became alert and looked toward the lady now in the distance.

Weisshem was situated at the southernmost border of the Rhine Kingdom, close to the Sorensen Mountains. Unscrupulous denizens of these mountains had, on some occasions, set their eyes on this town before.

Incidents, with bandit gangs sending scouts into Weisshem, weren't that uncommon. Just that… Captain Gauld, who had this thought, felt a degree of uncertainty.

Would a bandit gang's scout, if that was who she was, adopt such an ostentatious and shockingly conspicuous approach?

Captain Gauld stood in place for a while, struggling to make sense of the situation. However, he couldn't shake off the unease creeping over him when he considered disregarding this enigmatic lady.

After careful deliberation, Captain Gauld decided that caution was paramount. He walked over to the tavern, summoned his comrades, and directed them to the lady who was attracting everyone's attention.

As a militia captain, he carried quite some authority, and even if his subordinates were clearly reluctant, they still steeled themselves and carried out orders to keep a close eye on this lady.

The lady, who drew eyes to her wherever she went, reached the end of the street. She stopped, then went for another lap on the main street of this little town.

When she turned around, Captain Gauld saw her face, and a shiver ran down his spine.

He finally understood why everyone who had seen her face exhibited that stunned demeanor—they couldn't help it! Nobody could!

The scary lady seemed to notice the group of uniformed militia following her, but she didn't show any surprise. Instead, she casually scrutinized the uniform militia with an air of indifference before continuing her leisurely stroll with unabated enthusiasm and taking in the sights of the street.

Wherever she went, bewilderment ensued, but she remained unperturbed…

The kind of attention she garnered would have sent most ladies clutching their skirts and fleeing in embarrassment to find a spot and cry. But not this scary lady; she seemed entirely indifferent, strolling at a leisurely pace and admiring the streetscape.

She didn't care, but the same couldn't be said for the brothels. How could they continue their business when such a character, who excessively disrupted the town's decorum and significantly dampened clients' enthusiasm for pleasure, roamed the streets?

As she retraced her steps halfway through the town, enforcers from several brothels approached her, attempting to engage her in conversation.

However, their attempts were futile. These usually intimidating and fearsome figures in the world of pleasure establishments merely lasted seconds, barely uttering only a few incoherent phrases before scattering in disarray.

Captain Gauld, trailing behind the scary lady, simply covered his face with his hand.

"O Lady Gold Coin, how does this end?" murmured an older comrade, his face pallid. "Captain, what if she doesn't leave?"

The relationship between the militia and enforcers from local brothels wasn't exactly harmonious. Both sides regarded the other as freeloaders. However, at this moment, the militiamen weren't in the mood to enjoy the spectacle or laugh at the enforcers. They understood that if the situation couldn't be handled by those enforcers, it would fall on their shoulders to report it to the sheriff.

Cleaning up the mess left by the usually brash nightlife enforcers was something the militia detested. Nevertheless, all of them relied on these pleasure establishments for their livelihoods, so they had to deal with it, whether they liked it or not.

Captain Gault had a heavy look on his face. After a moment of silence, he gritted his teeth and muttered, "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Fortunately, the worst-case scenario didn't come to pass.

The scary lady, after having taken a stroll up and down the town's main street, seemed to have gotten her fill of excitement. She doubled back to the town gate, then left town, disappearing into the darkness without so much as a look back.

There were militia on gate duty too. Typically, young women (and attractive young men) weren't allowed to leave Weisshem without male companions. Even with male companions, they would be subjected to rigorous questioning by the militiamen and had to prove their free citizen status before being allowed to pass. There were just too many whores that tricked clients into sympathizing with them before trying to leave town together, and the militia would catch quite a few each month.

However… no militiaman dared to halt the seemingly youthful scary lady. Even after she had vanished into the distance, Captain Gauld, who had watched his subordinates "fail in their duties," could only heave a long sigh of relief.

Half an hour later, Weisshem began to recover from the shock and gradually regained its usual vigor.

An hour later, Captain Gauld was summoned by the sheriff, Sir Boris. Boris hadn't personally witnessed the scary lady, but he became infuriated upon hearing about the suspicious person that had been allowed by the militia to leave. He sternly instructed Captain Gauld to cancel all militia leave and enforce five days of high-intensity patrols to prevent potential attacks, possibly from bandits or marauders.

Marauders (distinct from ordinary bandit gangs in that they were mounted bandits), had previously targeted Weisshem in the past. Each incursion had resulted in heavy losses, so Captain Gauld had no choice but to comply.

Weisshem's militia consisted of the town's burliest men who enjoyed a handsome income from the generous payouts of pleasure establishment proprietors. These well-fed and robust men not only possessed impressive physiques but also received at least entry-level professional training and were equipped with weapons and armor. Their combat capabilities were on par with, if not better than, those of typical medium-sized mercenary groups.

Given the unique nature of Weisshem and its frequent incidents (there would be disturbances involving clients who either spent too much or were intoxicated escalating into bloody conflicts nearly every night), the town's militiamen were well-experienced in handling sudden events. In just a short span of time, squads of armed patrol units appeared both inside and outside the town, vigilantly watching every movement.

Time passed by slowly. Two hours passed, then three, four, five hours…

Until four in the early morning, other than an increase in drunks on the street and arresting a few carriage drivers who refused to pay older and unattractive streetwalkers, no other incidents occurred.

Gauld listened to his squad members' complaints, and considering that his authority essentially stemmed from his squad rather than the sheriff, Gauld decided to subtly go against the grain. He ordered some teams that had been patrolling outside the town for over six hours to rotate back and get some rest.

At five in the morning, the number of militiamen patrolling within and around the town had dwindled to just a few dozen.

Jimmy, a militiaman guarding the town gate, was exhausted and couldn't stop yawning. He sipped on the cheapest corn rum to stay awake and struggled to keep his eyes open while surveying the empty space outside his duty post.

Guarding the town gate was a lucrative gig. Even though Weisshem didn't collect gate taxes, if there were traders among the clientèle wishing to bring their wares into town, they had to grease the militiamen's palms a little.

However, this opportunity to make extra money was only during the early hours. Late into the night, there were hardly any travelers, and the duty personnel would only endure the shift.

Jimmy was still rather young; his father didn't hold much sway in town and led an unremarkable life. When it was Jimmy's squad's turn to guard the town gate, he would usually miss the peak hours. It wasn't until the wee hours when the only people seen were the inebriated drunks would Jimmy sit at the duty post.

There were three men on each shift. Two other older squad members that were similarly around the same level on the squad hierarchy weren't as dutiful as Jimmy. One was somewhere else relaxing, while the other was sleeping soundly in the rest area behind the duty post.

After finishing the last drops of the corn rum, Jimmy stepped out of his duty post and placed the empty bottle in a corner on the street. Once day broke, the children who scavenged for items would cheerfully collect the empty alcohol bottles discarded by the militiamen; ten of these rough, blue glass bottles could fetch a copper coin. Jimmy had done this kind of work when he was younger.

The cold wind in the early morning made Jimmy shiver. From a nearby alley that was closer to the town gate, he could hear the wailing cries of one of the drunkard whores, but he wasn't sure which one.

Jimmy didn't hold the whores and manwhores that lingered in the alleyways of this street in high regard. These were people who had been expelled from the brothels and couldn't return to a respectable life. Such people shamelessly lingered on this street, where even the most old, ugly, and destitute men were willing to engage them in conversation just to earn some meager coins.

As he was about to re-enter his duty post, the corner of Jimmy's eye caught a glimpse of something white.

He stopped, slightly perplexed, and inclined his head for a better look.

Not far from his duty post stood an electric pole with an operational streetlight. While it wasn't very bright, the streetlight provided a certain degree of visibility to the militiamen on duty, allowing Jimmy to see within a range of 10 meters outside the town gate.

In a spot just a little further from the streetlight was a white object that didn't appear to be very lustrous. It hovered abruptly at the height of a person.

Jimmy stared at this thing for a while and, driven by curiosity, he left his duty post once more and quietly moved beyond the town gate.

There were two rows of trees adorned with colorful lights just beyond the town gate. These lights were usually powered on during the first half of the night and were turned off when there were no more customers later in the night.

Jimmy passed the electric pole and discovered… that this white object seemed to be tightly pressed against a tree trunk, concealed in the shadow beneath the tree.

Jimmy's eyes narrowed, and he silently drew his dagger.

If the colorful lights near the town gate were stolen, the people on duty would be fined.

Jimmy had a strong aversion to those who didn't follow the rules, and he was determined to teach a lesson to whoever dared to steal the lights while he was on duty.

He cautiously approached the person hiding beneath the tree, gripping the hilt of his dagger.

Ten meters, five meters, three meters.

As if aware that the gig was up, the person beneath the tree moved and awkwardly turned over.

Jimmy got a clear look at this light thief.

It was a face… without any flesh.

No skin, no flesh, no nose… Just a gleaming skull.

Jimmy's mouth hung open as he stared dumbfoundedly at the gleaming skull.

Two seconds later, a faint, almost inaudible gurgling sound emanated from the young man's throat, and his eyes rolled back.

Jimmy's dagger fell to the ground with a clang, and his body crumpled limply.

Before losing consciousness, there was only one thought in Jimmy's mind—the thing he had seen was actually the back of a skull…