Harvest Golems

Clearly, the six reward slots weren't equally valuable. The larger a slot was, the more likely it was to be selected, which meant its reward was worth less. The spellbook was probably worth far more than 100 random Garrison Resources.

In Shawn's eyes, 100 random Garrison Resources were the least valuable reward. All it took was a little time to gather plenty of Garrison Resources from the real world. What you could get easily was usually worth the least.

Small building blueprints weren't much use to Shawn right now, either. He hadn't even built a level-one Town Hall yet, so no matter how many small building blueprints he got, they'd be nothing but pie in the sky.

The green-quality potion sounded pretty good. But he didn't know what its properties would be, and the randomness made it hard to judge.

The horn was a very rare special item. There weren't many well-known ones, but every one was precious and had a special use.

Scrolls were just like potions: too unpredictable.

Needless to say, the spellbook was the most precious reward of all, and the one Shawn wanted most.

Shawn took a deep breath and spun the wheel.

As he watched in anticipation, the wheel spun slower and slower, then finally stopped on a slot.

Fate wasn't always fond of Shawn. He didn't get the most precious spellbook or the scroll.

But neither had fate abandoned him. He hadn't gotten the 100 random Garrison Resources, either.

What he got was the green-quality horn.

And when Shawn saw its description, delight shone in his eyes.

There was no such thing as PM2.5 in Azeroth. The morning air was especially fresh.

A group of vagrants nearby chatted among themselves, recounting the disasters that had destroyed their homes and families, the happy lives they'd once had, and what they'd seen on the road.

Children played on the ground. A few grass stems and some stones were enough to occupy them for a whole day.

The teenagers worked in the fields. The wheat and pumpkins needed tending: weeding, catching bugs, and watering, all for the harvest and a full stomach.

Old Saldean stood in a corner of the farm, repairing a Harvest Golem with a wrench. Few people ever spoke of his past, but one thing was certain: he knew how to repair Harvest Golems. In fact, these golems, over two meters tall, had been designed specifically to kill people, and they were extremely deadly.

If Old Saldean hadn't had these Harvest Golems under his control, did you think those vagrants would have behaved themselves? Saldean Farm would've changed hands long ago!

The farm's owner, the kind and warmhearted Thelma Saldean, was preparing breakfast.

Thelma was a good cook, probably already at an intermediate level. By Earth's standards, she'd surely have earned at least a Level Two Chef Certificate.

Then breakfast was served.

With a huge farm at their disposal, they had no shortage of vegetables or grain. For people without a home, even a simple meal was a feast.

After eating, Shawn quickly finished his chores, then trotted over to Old Saldean and looked up at him as he repaired the Harvest Golem.

"Papa Saldean, why are you always fixing these Harvest Golems? Why do they keep breaking? Did you make them all yourself? Are they really strong? Could they beat a wild boar?"

Shawn's eyes widened as he fired off one question after another.

A young man in his twenties pretending to be a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old and acting cute was a bit of a strain for Shawn. But for the sake of learning an extraordinary skill, he was willing to give it a try.

Harvest Golems weren't pushovers, after all. They were known as the "Westfall Newbie Killers," and they were terrifying. Saldean Farm had at least eight of them. If Shawn could get that kind of force under his control, it would be a huge help to someone as weak as he was now.

Hearing Shawn's questions, Papa Saldean raised his wrench and asked in surprise, "Shawn, you never used to talk this much! With all these questions, where am I supposed to start?"

Shawn scratched his head sheepishly, his cheeks turning faintly red, though inside he felt terribly aggrieved.

The old Shawn had been different from his companions, physically, and he'd grown up without a father or mother. He'd always been painfully insecure and depressed, so he rarely spoke to anyone. He'd been the very picture of a taciturn boy.

After the transmigration, Shawn had gained the soul of a fine young man from twenty-first-century Earth. He wasn't exactly talkative, but he wasn't a man of few words, either. On top of that, he was eager to learn about this world, so he talked to just about everyone he met. He'd practically become Saldean Farm's "social butterfly."

Old Saldean had only said it offhandedly.

By now, he was used to Shawn's "chattiness." He assumed Shawn's personality was gradually changing, which was a good thing. It never occurred to him that the once-taciturn boy now had a completely different soul.

"These Harvest Golems have been around for a long time. They were passed down from my father. As for where they came from, even he didn't know. But they say they were made by Gnomes. You know how those little fellows are: small heads, but clever. They love tinkering with all kinds of strange contraptions."

Old Saldean laughed. "What, you like them, Shawn? Let me tell you, these Harvest Golems are a lot stronger than wild boars! They're not even afraid of packs of wolves. Without these Harvest Golems, the farms here in Westfall would be in a sorry state!"

Shawn already knew how powerful Harvest Golems were, but he couldn't let on that he did, could he?

So he put on a look of amazement and cried, "Really? Papa Saldean, will you teach me? If these Harvest Golems break down again, I can help you fix them. What do you say?"

Shawn forced himself to swallow his embarrassment as he clung to Old Saldean's arm and shook it. He couldn't have felt more awkward.

Even an ordinary boy of fifteen or sixteen was too old for this kind of cutesy behavior. But Shawn was a Half-Elf, and his delicate features made him look completely different from Azeroth's pure-blooded humans. He looked about twelve or thirteen, so even though he was acting cute, he was still rather adorable. Old Saldean didn't find it strange at all.

With a calloused hand, Old Saldean patted Shawn's head and said kindly, "Shawn, repairing Harvest Golems isn't easy. It involves a lot of Engineering knowledge. If I hadn't served as a combat engineer, I wouldn't be able to repair them, either. If you want to learn, you'll have to work hard!"

Shawn quickly replied, "That's fine! I don't mind working hard. Papa Saldean, will you teach me?"

Old Saldean was actually very happy.

Of all the children he'd taken in, Shawn was the cleverest. He'd just been too insecure and lonely. Seeing him become lively and cheerful now made Old Saldean very happy.

He was even reminded of his own son.

His son, who had died, had been just as clever and lively and sweet. But the cruel war had taken his life. If his son were still alive, perhaps his child would be grown by now.

As he thought of all this, tears welled in Old Saldean's eyes.