Walking along the streets of Salt Rock Port, Xia Nan paid no attention to the various gazes that occasionally came from around him. Instead, he recalled the fishing boy named Wenser.
His keen Perception allowed him to notice the boy's poor mental state the moment he boarded the boy's small fishing boat. The gloomy emotions Wenser later revealed during their conversation had only confirmed it.
But... they were still strangers who had met for the first time.
Out of courtesy, Xia Nan would not take the initiative to ask about Wenser's past or presumptuously speculate about the boy's painful experiences. Wenser had brought him to the port and briefly introduced the town's situation, while Xia Nan had paid him the appropriate fee. That was the entirety of their relationship. They were merely travelers who had crossed paths along the road. Although Wenser's subsequent refusal of payment had greatly improved his impression in Xia Nan's mind, it was still far from enough to turn him into some kind of psychological expert and prompt him to help Wenser resolve his troubles.
What truly mattered now was finding the place where the Barbarian Fugan lived.
"Clack."
The sturdy leather boots, still carrying traces of moisture, stopped mid-stride.
Xia Nan looked up. Before his eyes was an oak sign protruding horizontally from beneath the eaves, bearing an image of a row of wind-dried herrings. The Pickled Fish Tavern.
It was one of the few places in the small city of Salt Rock Port where adventurers often gathered.
It was the destination he had settled on after combining the information provided by Wenser and the pedestrians near the port.
He pushed open the door, and a rush of warm, stuffy alcohol fumes mixed with noisy clamor hit him in the face.
It was indeed a