Chapter 126: Adventurer Gil (part 2)

Chapter 126: Chapter 126: Adventurer Gil (part 2)

Just as Ragnar was considering whether he should approach the registration counter to learn more about adventurer identification, a group of men suddenly walked toward him.

There were five of them, all wearing leather armor or light metal equipment. Their weapons were noticeably better maintained than Gil’s battered sword, and the confident expressions on their faces suggested that they were accustomed to dealing with people weaker than themselves.

The man walking at the front was a burly fellow with a thick beard and a scar running across his forehead. His level was higher than Ragnar’s displayed level, though not by an especially impressive margin.

The moment he spotted Ragnar sitting alone, the man’s face broke into a wide grin.

"Well, well, well! Look who we have here!" he exclaimed, bursting into laughter as he approached. "If it isn’t our boy Gil! You’re still alive? I honestly thought we’d find your corpse somewhere inside the dungeon by now."

The four men behind him immediately laughed along.

One of them, a thin adventurer carrying a short spear, leaned toward the leader with an exaggerated expression of surprise.

"Boss, of course he’s still alive! This guy doesn’t even dare to enter the spider nest!" He pointed at Ragnar and laughed even harder.

"Ah, you’re right!" the bearded man slapped his thigh. "Gil, you really are something else. Most adventurers would be embarrassed to call themselves adventurers if they were afraid of a few spiders, but you seem perfectly content with being a coward. Tell me, how do you manage to survive when you can’t even fight properly?"

The group burst into another round of laughter.

Ragnar slowly raised his head and looked at them.

For a brief moment, his green eyes met the bearded man’s gaze. He could have easily crushed every bone in the man’s body with a casual swing of his true strength. Even without using his greatsword, his physical abilities were far beyond anything these five adventurers could imagine.

However, he had no intention of doing so.

’Ah, I see. So these fellows know the original Gil.’

Fortunately, he didn’t need to maintain a conversation with them.

Ragnar looked away and returned his attention to the notice board across the hall, treating the five men as though they didn’t exist.

The bearded man’s smile gradually faded.

"Hey, Gil! I’m talking to you!"

Ragnar didn’t respond.

"What’s wrong with you? Have you suddenly gone deaf?" the man demanded, stepping closer. "I’m asking you a question. The least you could do is answer when someone is talking to you."

Still, Ragnar remained silent.

He had lived as a human long before becoming a demon. He had encountered plenty of people who enjoyed picking on those they considered weaker. Their behavior was always the same. They sought attention, provoked others for entertainment, and became irritated when their targets refused to react.

There was little point in wasting his time on such people.

’I’ve seen this kind of fool countless times. If I respond, they’ll only become more annoying.’

The thin adventurer with the spear frowned. "Boss, what’s gotten into him? He’s usually pretty timid. He should be apologizing by now."

"Maybe he finally lost his mind after spending too much time alone," another man suggested, snickering. "Or perhaps he was frightened so badly by a spider that he forgot how to speak."

The bearded man snorted. He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to Ragnar’s.

"Listen carefully, Gil. If you ever decide to join a party, don’t come asking us. We don’t need dead weight slowing us down. Understand?"

Ragnar continued ignoring him.

The bearded man’s expression darkened. For a moment, it seemed he might try to provoke a more forceful reaction, but his companions soon began urging him to leave. They had apparently come to the hall to find additional members for their next expedition, and wasting time tormenting a lone adventurer wasn’t going to help them accomplish that.

"Tch. What a boring bastard," the leader muttered at last. He straightened up and waved his hand dismissively. "Come on, let’s go. There’s no point wasting our time on this loser."

The five men walked away, laughing among themselves as they searched for other adventurers.

Ragnar didn’t even bother watching them leave.

’Good riddance.’

He had no desire to become involved in Gil’s personal grudges. He had far more important things to accomplish than proving himself to a group of insignificant adventurers.

Besides, the entrance hall offered him something far more interesting than the opportunity to argue with strangers.

The hall was enormous, much larger than an ordinary building. Adventurers came and went throughout the day, bringing not only weapons and supplies but also merchants hoping to profit from the steady stream of customers.

Several stalls had been established along the sides of the hall.

One merchant sold healing potions and antidotes, while another displayed a collection of swords, daggers, and pieces of leather armor.

Further down, a pair of craftsmen offered equipment repairs to adventurers who had returned from the dungeon with damaged weapons. There were even merchants buying monster materials, allowing adventurers to exchange the remains of their kills for money instead of carrying them all the way back to Lufast City.

The authorities had apparently recognized the commercial opportunities created by the dungeon’s popularity.

But what caught Ragnar’s attention most was a small eatery near the far side of the hall.

It wasn’t particularly impressive. Several wooden tables and benches had been arranged beneath a simple canopy, and a counter stood in front of a compact cooking area. The smell of freshly prepared food drifted through the surrounding space, mixing with the scents of grilled meat, herbs, and warm bread.

Ragnar stopped.

He stared at the eatery for several seconds, his expression becoming strangely serious.

Then he slowly stood up.

’Food.’

The thought struck him with surprising force.

Ever since his reincarnation, Ragnar had grown accustomed to living inside the dungeon. His daily routine consisted of checking the system, managing his monsters, inspecting the various areas, and occasionally purchasing new skills or strengthening his subordinates. When he needed to eat, raw meat was more than sufficient to satisfy his body’s requirements.

The maids could cook for him, of course, but their understanding of cooking was rather questionable.