The Geckert of Exile Land

Exile Land was chaotic and lawless. The moment Mel entered the town, he caught a faint whiff of blood. Quite a few people casually swirled their cups as they drank.

They paid no mind to such killings. This northern island had originally been used to exile criminals. It was a place of extreme cold and heat, where most of the land was unsuitable for farming.

If not for its mineral deposits and magical beasts, towns like this would never have been built here.

The moment Mel entered the tavern, his eyes quickly settled on a purple-haired man. The man wore animal hides, and his muscles looked solid and powerful.

"Hello. Are you a Geckert?"

"People as polite as you are rare. Yes, I am indeed from the Geckert tribe. What is it?" The man nodded toward the door, then lifted his cup and took another drink.

"Um, do the Geckert have some kind of disease in their bloodline? One that makes people suddenly faint?"

"Yes, there are people like that. But they generally do not live very long. Even if they manage to endure it, their lifespan ends up being no different from an ordinary person's. Most, however, do not make it that far." The man rubbed his messy purple hair and gave Mel a helpless look.

This guy was probably not a Geckert himself. Then it was likely one of his friends who had the disease.

"I advise you to give up. At first, this illness only causes sudden fainting. Later, the patient becomes sleepier and sleepier until they die completely. Others have come here looking for the cause before, but if even we cannot solve it, how could they?" The man shook his head helplessly, as if trying to comfort Mel.

"Thank you. Then, does anyone know about