That day, I was sitting at my usual spot by the door when a passing outsider glanced at me, then turned to the big man walking beside him.
"These people don't give out quests?" he asked.
The big man frowned. "First time playing the game? You've gotta find the one with the yellow circle over his head if you want a quest."
I froze for a good long moment.
Game—I know what that is.
Yellow—I know the color.
Circle—I can picture it.
Quest—I understand the idea.
But who in their right mind would walk around with a yellow circle floating over their head? I'd never seen such a lunatic in my life.
The big man pointed toward the banyan tree. "See him? That old guy. Yellow circle over his head. Go to him for a quest."
The outsider nodded eagerly. "Oh, oh, oh! I see it now!"
I stared harder than ever, my eyes practically straining to spot some glowing halo or floating symbol. But all I saw was the chief, standing there like always—no yellow circle, no magical ring, just the same old man looking completely normal.
I blinked. I rubbed my eyes. Nope. Still nothing.
It was then I realized something chilling—every outsider could see the yellow circle over the chief's head. All of them. It was like some secret signal. Or a landmark. Like a flashing neon sign screaming, "Quests here!" Whoever wore the yellow ring handed out "tasks." What those tasks were seemed to depend on the person. For the old chief, it was wild boars and wolves—dangerous stuff. And the strangers didn't even hesitate. No questions asked. They just went straight to work.
Lately, I couldn't stop thinking about it.
One day, a few gentle, beautiful ladies wandered around the village entrance, searching for the chief like lost puppies. This was the perfect chance to test my theory. So, I pulled a little yellow circle out from under my bench—a wooden disk I'd carved and painted bright yellow.
I stuck it on my head and stood at the village gate.