The Path of Adults (Seeking Readership)

As everyone else left the room, Dida pulled a chair over to Wells's side and sat down.

"Commander Wells, I truly owe you so much this time. If it weren't for you and your men risking your lives to protect me, I likely wouldn't have escaped this ordeal."

In response to Dida's gratitude, Wells raised his bandaged hand and waved it.

"Mr. Dida, you are too kind. This is what we should do. Since we accepted your employment, protecting you and your cargo is our primary mission."

Hearing Wells's reply, Dida waved his hand, and silence fell between the two.

Wells looked at the Merchant Caravan Supervisor, who seemed to want to speak but hesitated, and a bad feeling began to well up in his heart.

Seeing Dida remain silent, Wells, unable to bear it any longer, forced a smile and asked Dida, "Mr. Dida, is there something you wanted to discuss with me?"

Seeing Wells take the initiative to ask, the Merchant Caravan Supervisor, after a long hesitation, showed a hint of embarrassment and then slowly began to speak.

"It's like this, Mr. Wells. First, I am personally extremely grateful for your saving my life. Without you, I might not be sitting here talking to you right now. However, there are some difficult truths I must convey.

Although the wolf attack during this transport was something none of us wanted to happen, it is with deep regret that it did occur, causing significant losses and casualties to the caravan and the mercenary group.

None of us can change this outcome. Now that your mercenary group has suffered more than half its losses, you are unable to complete the upcoming escort mission. According to the agreement we signed previously, I need to terminate our cooperation.

However, out of gratitude for saving my life, I will waive your breach of contract penalty and compensate you with 10 gold coins from my personal funds."

Wells stared blankly at Dida, who was speaking eloquently, his mouth moving non-stop while his mind turned into a muddled mess.

Without money, how can I compensate my men? They barely escaped with their lives, only to receive nothing. In his desperation, Wells struggled to get out of bed, reached out, and grabbed Dida's arm.

"Mr. Dida, no, please, no. Think about it again. We still have half our men. Just give me a few days, and I can recruit more people. We can still complete the commission."

Wells's sudden lunge startled Dida, who quickly stood up and tried to pull away.

"Let go, Commander Wells, let go! Don't get agitated. This is a contract, a written contract. While I am immensely grateful that you saved my life, according to the contract, if the caravan's goods are damaged by 20%, you are required to compensate. Now, my shipment has suffered a full 30% damage."

Wells, now paralyzed in bed, had lost his former radiance. As Dida tried to evade him, they both tumbled off the bed. Wells, like an old dog with a broken spine, crawled on the ground, his only mobile hand desperately gripping Dida's trouser leg, pleading, "Mr. Dida, Mr. Dida, you can't do this! Our mercenary group gave their all for your cargo. We won't demand the original fee. How about eighty! Eighty gold coins?"

Seeing Dida unmoved, Wells quickly continued, "Sixty, sixty gold coins will do, Mr. Dida."

Just then, hearing the commotion from the room, Paimon anxiously pushed the door open and rushed in.

Upon entering, he saw a scene that made his blood boil: his uncle being humiliated and trampled underfoot by that disgusting fatty. Enraged, Paimon charged forward with his fists, landing a punch on Dida's round face. The Merchant Caravan Supervisor flew back like an inflated balloon, crashing into the wall.

Just as Paimon was about to unleash some harsh words, Wells's furious scolding came from the floor.

"You pig, you idiot, you brain-dead fool whose head is soaked in beer, what are you doing!!!!! Get out of here!!!!"

Hearing his uncle's angry reprimand, Paimon froze. Ever since he was little, his uncle had always been kind and gentle, never once scolding him.

However, Wells, lying on the floor, couldn't afford to worry about that now. He wriggled his body and crawled towards the fallen Dida.

"Mr. Dida, are you alright? This child, Paimon, he didn't mean it. He's still young, perhaps he misunderstood~"

The Merchant Caravan Supervisor, sitting up from the floor, rubbed his swollen face and spat out a tooth. He glanced at Wells, who was crawling on the ground with pleading eyes, then at Paimon, who was standing frozen. Leaning on the wall, he slowly stood up without a word, walked over to Wells, dropped a money bag, and left without looking back.

As Dida left the room, Wells deflated like a popped balloon and lay motionless on the floor. The team members gathered at the doorway quickly rushed in and helped Wells back onto the bed. However, everyone tacitly avoided mentioning what had just happened. The Second Captain, Okro, waved his hand, signaling the team members to leave and not disturb the Commander's rest.

Only when the sound of the door closing echoed did Wells dare to cry out loud, feeling as desperate as a 40-year-old man who has been fired, his wife and children no longer his.

Havent led Paimon to a table set up outside the inn and signaled a passing waitress for two drinks.

Looking at Paimon, who was silent and his face flushed red, Havent felt a bit of a predicament. A seventeen or eighteen-year-old boy, this was the age when pride was strongest. If he said the wrong thing today, it might lead to a complete falling out.

The waitress brought two large mugs of beer. The boy, who would normally appreciate the waitress's figure, was unusually indifferent today. He picked up his beer and gulped it down. Before Havent could even begin to formulate his words, Paimon had already finished his second mug.

Seeing Paimon still silent, Havent signaled the tavern waitress again. Well, perhaps getting drunk might be a good thing.

"Bring me a barrel of strong liquor, a roasted chicken, two charcoal-grilled pork legs, and two basins of stewed meat with rice."

Soon, the waitress brought over what Havent had ordered. To prevent his good friend from drinking alone, Havent also started drinking, one mug after another.

"Will, am I a completely useless person? Can't do anything right."

After several mugs of strong liquor, Paimon's consciousness began to drift. Holding a chicken leg, he mumbled, "If you put it that way, then yes, a little. You're too direct, you don't think before you act. Impulsiveness isn't a good thing."

With the alcohol taking effect, Paimon retorted defensively, "But they never respected me. They always treated my words as a joke, thinking I was still a child."

"So what? We are children. Being an adult is very hard. Look at your uncle just now, he was bowing and scraping to that fat pig just to be able to feed everyone. And then you punched him, negating the guilt of that fat pig saving your uncle's life. You're so impulsive, if you're not young, who is?"

Listening to Havent's words, Paimon stared blankly at his wooden mug, lost in thought.