My Home (Part 1)

With mixed feelings, Tales left the ominous Ghost Prince's Tower.

The chaos and clamor of Bladefang Camp abruptly returned to his ears.

"I guess the sudden lockdown caught quite a few people off guard, and with all the soldiers..." Old Hammer let out a breath. "The whole camp's more disorderly than usual. Of course, it's never exactly peaceful around here."

Tales followed Old Hammer and Kuaishang through the crowd, struggling to squeeze past three men arguing in different accents. He brushed off a blacksmith loudly trying to sell him a rusty fighting sword, politely avoided a heavily made-up woman trying to pull open his thigh-length undershirt, and cleverly skirted a group of thugs lurking in a corner, watching in secret and drunkenly stumbling over whenever they saw a newcomer approach.

But when he saw a timid beggar reach out a hand toward him and, with a sigh, was about to fish out a few Northern Land copper coins, Old Hammer grabbed his arm.

"Don't. If you show compassion now, seven or eight people will have their eyes on you afterward—Bladefang Camp isn't what it used to be." Old Hammer stuffed Tales's money pouch back into his pack, looked warily around, and patted the weapons on his body.

"Ever since the Blood Bottle Gang drastically scaled back a few years ago—some might even say they abandoned Bladefang Camp—the people in this line of work haven't cared much about rules. They've got no bottom line and won't stop until they've stripped you naked and sold you off—and you won't even know who to hold responsible."

Kuaishang's face went pale, as if he had remembered something. He muttered a few words under his breath.

Old Hammer's words made Tales pause.

"The Blood Bottle Gang?"

Old Hammer nodded.

"Back when I was still in