Chapter 175 "Colander" Big Ben

The next morning.

Perhaps noticing Xia Nan's preferences from dinner over the past two days, Mrs. Daisy had purposely gotten up a bit earlier today to cook a small pot of creamy mushroom soup just for him.

She had even thoughtfully sprinkled extra ginger powder into the soup and squeezed in a few drops of lemon juice.

This added a touch of brightness to the mushroom soup's sweet, rich texture, making it incredibly refreshing.

Staying in Jeff's home, eating and drinking for free, and having the hostess go to such lengths made Xia Nan feel a bit embarrassed.

However, Jeff and Daisy didn't seem to mind at all, acting as if it were only natural.

For an ordinary family relying on caravan savings and a tailor shop to make ends meet, returning the favor to the benefactor who had saved their breadwinner in a moment of crisis hardly seemed enough. They even worried they were shortchanging him.

It was no wonder Jeff, though only in his forties or fifties, had saved up enough for a three-story house on a decent street in Nym, along with a well-located tailor shop.

Given Jeff's character, if Xia Nan didn't have his Attribute Panel and combat techniques, he would have gladly traveled with the caravan and done a little business as an ordinary man in this world.

As long as there was money to be made, Jeff would never shortchange the men working under him.

After thoroughly enjoying the breakfast Mrs. Daisy had prepared, Xia Nan greeted the household and headed out.

Yesterday in the sewers, he had arranged for Eight-Fingers, boss of the Gray Badger Gang, to send someone this morning to guide him to "Colander" Big Ben's place.

As a friend and former adventuring teammate of his mission target, Buck, Big Ben was the person most likely to know his whereabouts now that Buck's family had passed away.

The walk didn't take long.

Only two or three streets later, a muscular figure with a shiny bald head caught his eye at the entrance to Fool's Gold Street.

Standing alone in the biting autumn wind, Ironhead rubbed his hands together. Seeing Xia Nan, his eyes lit up, and he hurried forward. "Mr. Xia Nan, you're here early! I thought I'd be waiting a while longer."

Nodding in acknowledgment, Xia Nan gave him a slightly odd look.

Unlike their first meeting a few days ago, when Ironhead had dressed like a thug in a coarse, half-open shirt that revealed his chest tattoos, he now wore a belted linen tunic, loose trousers, and short leather boots.

Though the clothes didn't fit well, giving off the awkward impression of being hastily thrown together for this outing, it was undeniably more presentable than his blatantly arrogant thug attire.

"Let's go," Xia Nan said. Noting the difference but not asking questions, he gestured for the man to lead the way.

Just like yesterday, when he had led Xia Nan and Wood down into the sewers to the Gray Badger Gang's lair, the fierce-looking bald man proved exceptionally familiar with the city's layout—at least the streets stretching from the West District to the Slums.

It wasn't obvious on the main roads, but as the streets narrowed and the winding alleyways multiplied, his ability to weave through them without losing his way became increasingly apparent.

"You know this area well. Do you come here often?" Xia Nan asked casually, following behind with a hint of curiosity.

"Ah, you're joking," Ironhead said, looking back over his shoulder and grinning to reveal rotting, yellowish-brown teeth. "Most of the brothers in the gang grew up in the Slums. We've been weaving through these alleys since we were kids. If we still got lost in here, we'd be laughed at for half a year."

Xia Nan didn't reply. His eyes shifted, sweeping across the streets on both sides as he took in his surroundings.

They had now truly entered the Lower District Slums of Nym.

The narrow, muddy streets were riddled with puddles. In some sections, they even had to tiptoe across protruding stones or wooden planks. A moment of carelessness would leave a deep footprint in the muck below—a vile mixture of blood, excrement, and rotting cabbage leaves.

Dilapidated shacks of thatch, moldy planks, and rammed earth were crammed together on both sides. The walls leaned so precariously that a single hard push felt like it could send the entire block collapsing in a chain reaction.

Snoring, curses, and the cries of livestock mixed with the putrid stench in the air, making Xia Nan feel as if the very air had grown colder upon entering the Slums.

Not far ahead, a frail woman in tattered linen nonchalantly emptied a bucket of excrement onto the side of the road. She cast an expressionless glance at the two men, a flicker of apprehension flashing across her numb face, then turned and retreated indoors, slamming the door. Through the crack, the faint sound of a wailing infant could be heard.

Walking down the road, Xia Nan could feel malicious gazes locked onto him from the alley shadows. They were drawn by his youthful face, paused briefly on his meticulously maintained chainmail, and came to a dead stop on the two longswords strapped to his back.

Occasionally, when he looked toward those stares, no one dared meet his cold, piercing eyes.

Fully armed in the intimidating gear of a veteran Adventurer, exuding the confident aura born of the superhuman physique and combat abilities of a Class Level, along with his black hair, dark eyes, and cold, sharp features—all this ensured Xia Nan encountered no real trouble along the way.

To survive in such a harsh environment, these destitute people knew better than anyone who they could mess with and who to avoid.

But...

"Does Big Ben really live here?" Xia Nan asked Ironhead, his tone laced with suspicion as the surrounding thatched sheds and mud houses reflected in his eyes.

Based on the information he had gathered, even though "Colander" Big Ben had never obtained a Class Level, he was still a seasoned Adventurer.

He had a proper job and a stable source of income—after all, his nickname "Colander" came from his time working as a cook at the Iron Bucket Toad.

In his mind, a semi-retired Adventurer, even without a picture-perfect family like Jeff or Buck's, shouldn't be living too poorly. Especially right after finishing the extra work of Hunting Day and returning to Nym from Rivervale Town. Even if he was a big spender, he should have enough money left to indulge at the tavern for a few days.

Seeming to know a bit of the inside story, Ironhead didn't stop walking. His tone was flat, revealing nothing of his true thoughts. "Big Ben lived a rather... well, carefree life in his youth. When he retired as an Adventurer, he hadn't saved up much money. He did own a decent house once, but he sold it off a long time ago. He's not particularly well-off, and I've heard he occasionally needs his former teammates to help him get by. But that's exactly why I had the chance to meet him, wouldn't you agree?" Reaching a corner, Ironhead turned around, smiling and spreading his hands.

Whether or not one attained a Class Level was a watershed moment in the careers of the vast majority of Adventurers.

Much like the athletes of his past life, age and injuries severely limited an Adventurer's development.

The former might bring richer experience and sharper skills, but physical aging and declining stamina exponentially multiplied the danger of adventuring.

As for the latter, a bottle of Healing Potion to treat mission injuries cost 50 gold—something they could afford after saving up for a while.

However, the hidden traumas accumulated over years of poor lifestyle habits, high-stress environments, and severe overexertion could not be cured by a potion that cost less than three digits.

Many Adventurers might look full of vigor when they retired in their thirties or forties, acting as if their lives were just beginning, but in reality, their bodies were already on the verge of collapse from their high-intensity careers.

Without enough rest, they would age rapidly. Within a few years, a sudden, unheralded illness would claim their lives.

Only by training a combat technique to Mastery and gaining the physical attribute bonuses of advancement could they fundamentally reverse the decline brought on by age and injury.

And even if their physical condition was still decent after retirement, for an Adventurer accustomed to the safe, stable life of a town, taking up their dust-covered swords once again was no easy task.

"We're here, Mr. Xia Nan. Big Ben's place is just up ahead," Ironhead announced.

After winding through the alleys a while longer, Ironhead brought Xia Nan to a halt before a small brick-and-tile house.

Xia Nan had to admit the environment was a bit better than he'd imagined.

Though it was still in the Slums, Big Ben's house and the street in front of it were noticeably cleaner; clearly, someone swept regularly.

While the house itself might not be considered much in the West District, compared to the thatched sheds and mud shacks on either side, saying it stood out like a crane among chickens was no exaggeration.

Without making Xia Nan do it himself, the perceptive Ironhead took the initiative to step forward and knock on the door.

Knock, knock, knock—

"Who is it?" a groggy, hoarse voice called from inside.

Then came the sound of heavy, slow footsteps approaching.

Xia Nan didn't relax his guard. The corner of his eye swept across the densely packed, narrow surroundings as he gently raised his right hand, prepared to draw the wooden sword [Azure Pine] for combat.

At the same time, he focused his attention squarely on the door. The moment the other party made a suspicious move, the immense pressure of [Gravity Control] would crash down in an instant.

"Creak."

The hinges groaned, letting out a harsh noise and revealing a scruffy, guarded face through the crack.

Seeing Ironhead at the door, Big Ben's tense expression eased slightly. He waved a dismissive hand. "I've been a bit busy lately. I'm not taking jobs, tell your boss to..."

Halfway through his sentence, as the crack widened, he caught sight of the fully armed, imposing figure right behind Ironhead.

His expression drastically changed. The hand gripping the doorknob violently exerted force, attempting to slam the door shut.

But in the next second, an invisible force surged out of nowhere, completely pinning him in place.

Under the effect of that inexplicable power, the door he had been trying to close seemed violently attracted to the adjacent wall. Ripping from his grasp, it flew wide open and smashed against the wall with a loud bang.

[Gravity Control] silently took effect. Xia Nan patted Ironhead's shoulder and walked past.

The Chainmail Iron Rings clinked together, emitting a faint, crisp sound as the cold shadow cast by the sunlight blanketed the middle-aged man's face.

"Big Ben, right?" Xia Nan asked. "The Association sent me here to ask you about a few things."

...

...

Inside the cramped, shabby living room cluttered with junk.

Big Ben sat on the sofa, his posture ramrod straight, wearing an awkward, stiff smile.

"I am truly sorry, Mr. Xia Nan," he apologized. "This... the Association didn't send any notice. I really didn't know you were coming."

As an Adventurer active in the Lower District who frequently did jobs for gangs, he couldn't count how many people he had offended or factions he had tangled with in the years since his retirement.

When he first laid eyes on Xia Nan, Big Ben naturally assumed the Gray Badger Gang had sold him out and brought a hitman hired by his enemies to his doorstep. His instinctual reaction had been to shut the door and run.

That was why he had acted like that.

Now, after Xia Nan's explanation, he realized he had misunderstood.

As for whether Xia Nan was deceiving him to make him drop his guard...

His mind couldn't help but flash back to the bizarre scene just moments ago, where he had been frozen in place and the door had ripped itself from his control.

He highly doubted any faction would have the money to hire a big shot who had clearly obtained a Class Level just to deal with a small fry like him.

"You came here this time for..."

On the table between them, white steam rose from scalding tea.

Xia Nan leaned forward slightly.

"What do you know about Buck?"

"Buck?" Big Ben paused, then lowered his voice. "Isn't he... already dead?"

"If he were alive, where might he have gone?"

"Hmm, where he'd go..." Big Ben muttered, furrowing his brow in thought. "He grew up in the Slums. His parents died before he could remember. His grandfather raised him, but the old man passed away six years ago. He had some ties with the owner of the Iron Bucket Toad and used to go there alone to drink, so maybe..."

He looked up and checked Xia Nan's expression. "Alright, looks like you've already been there."

He pondered for a while longer but couldn't give a clear answer.

Seeing that the man couldn't think of anything for the moment, Xia Nan decided to approach the matter from another angle to see if he could find any useful clues.

He recalled what Buck's neighbor, a young woman named Harriet, had mentioned to him earlier. Buck had returned to Nym injured halfway through Hunting Day, which meant he had obviously encountered an accident on his expedition.

And Big Ben right in front of him had been Buck's teammate at the time; he had to know something.