The Witch’s Convent

This is a group of addicts.

Seeing this scene, he couldn't help but feel a bit moved and sighed deeply.

Fortunately, the time he spent wandering alone in his past life was relatively short; otherwise, in an environment like this, he would have inevitably fallen into drug addiction sooner or later, right?

Hiss... Upon closer reflection, it seemed that before being captured by Heidi, he had already contracted some unknown illness, suffering from a high fever that wouldn’t subside, coughing all day long, and everything he ate tasted bitter, making it impossible for him to eat.

This should also be one of the reasons why this body had such low attributes, right?

Only later, when he received porridge at the convent gate, was he treated by the compassionate Nun Selene.

So after he crossed over, he no longer suffered from the torment of illness.

Oh right, this incident seemed to have caused the poor people who came for the porridge to kneel in worship, adding quite a bit of prestige to her and the convent.

Hiss... Upon closer reflection, it’s likely that at that time, Nigel Hawthorne had already been targeted by this group of witches, right?

Shaking his head, he stopped thinking about the tragic past of this body’s original master and turned around, walking steadily towards his destination.

After all, the important matters take precedence. 

...

Three hours later.

This was a dilapidated house. Unlike most of the houses in the slums, this one was made of stone, covered with a layer of mud mixed with straw on the outside, making it look incredibly warm.

However, under the erosion of time, most of the yellow mud on the surface had fallen off, revealing the stacked stones underneath, making the house appear even more dangerous than the wooden houses nearby.

Nevertheless, this was merely superficial. Anyone with a bit of architectural knowledge would be able to see that, in reality, it was still quite sturdy, at least much more solid than the wooden houses around it.

However, such a relatively decent house was currently uninhabited. Its windows were tightly shut, and the door was secured with a rusting iron lock. Anyone who had lived in this slum for a while would know that no one had entered or exited this house for a long, long time.

As for the actual situation of this small house, the surrounding residents had various opinions: some said it was a secret stronghold for a dark intelligence organization, with a secret tunnel leading directly to the Mithril District beneath the house; others claimed it was haunted, with a family of six having died inside, so no one dared to enter again; there were also those who said it was a room used by some big shot for a clandestine meeting with a lover in the South Harbor District...

In short, there were many rumors about this house in the slum, but none were credible.

However, in such a vast slum, countless people disappeared or died unexpectedly every year, so the number of vacant houses was staggering—an additional one didn't matter, and losing one didn't matter either. As a result, no one really cared about the situation of this seemingly precarious stone house.

But Hawthorne was well aware that this unremarkable little house was actually the hiding place of the witch Yuta.

Before the Witch's Night arrived, she would quietly come here, hide inside the house, and spend her most vulnerable time in her original form.

“Tsk, it really looks quite different from the game...”

Looking at the stone house in front of him, Hawthorne couldn't help but sigh.

After all, the map of the real world was much larger than that in the game, and there were no signposts in this slum. The alleys were intricate, and it took him a long time to finally find the stone house that looked exactly like the one in the game.

He then stepped forward, moved to the window of the house, and forcefully pried open a small gap. Through the sunlight, he could vaguely see the situation inside.

On the floor in the center of the room lay a chaotic pile of countless broken and rusted metal tools: kitchen knives, scissors, sickles, axes, harpoons, and so on, all piled together as if this room were actually a metal recycling station, a junkyard filled with countless scraps.

But Hawthorne understood that these metal tools were actually the best disguise for "The Blade Witch" Yuta's original form.

It seemed that this was indeed the place.

Huff, I'm dead tired.

Carrying five heavy Grimoires on his back for self-defense at any moment, and with the sun being quite pleasant today, he was already sweating lightly on his back.

He then closed the window and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, resolutely deciding that when he returned, he definitely needed to take a good shower with Heidi.

“Well, having figured out the route, today’s task can be considered complete.”

He couldn’t help but feel relieved that he had come here today to find the location. Otherwise, on the night of Witch's Night, in that dark environment relying only on moonlight for illumination, he didn't know how long it would take him to find this place.

But now, it was time to go back.

He took another look around at his surroundings, trying to imprint every scene along the way deeply into his mind before he retraced his steps, preparing to meet up with Heidi at the agreed "Foggy Fisherman" tavern.

However, just as he turned around, he spotted two tall, thin men in black leather coats and black top hats coming down the adjacent street. Despite the bright sunshine, these two men seemed unfazed by the heat in their heavy attire.

They were quietly conversing about something, but when they saw Hawthorne approaching, they immediately fell silent.

Hawthorne didn’t pay much attention; there were plenty of people in this world with peculiar clothing. Some were genuinely impressive, some pretended to be impressive, and some had to dress that way due to health reasons. In any case, everyone had their own reasons, and there was no need to focus too much on them.

He brushed past the two men, but just then, one of them abruptly stopped, turned around, and stared at his back with a clearly surprised expression.

The other also halted, without asking anything, his gaze drifting to the back.

At that moment, however, Hawthorne had already walked far away. He took a left turn and disappeared into the complex alleys of the slum.