"Making friends in this particular town isn't easy, you know," Glen said, unable to resist teasing Aina when he saw her flustered expression.
"I agree. I've been here so long I almost forgot how to talk," Aina replied, clearly fond of chatting. She was unusually enthusiastic about Glen's questions.
"So, how long have you and your brother lived here? Do you know much about the place?" Glen eased back into work mode, but kept the conversation going.
After tilting her head and thinking a moment, Aina said uncertainly, "My brother and I have probably been here over a hundred years… Well, I can't remember exactly."
Glen's hands paused briefly, then he carried on as if nothing had happened.
"That makes you an old resident, then."
"Old resident?" Aina didn't seem to accept that label. She shook her head lightly. "My brother and I are still newcomers, Mr. Glen. The real old residents never appear on the town's outskirts."
Glen looked up at her in surprise, then let out a breath.
"Now that really is unexpected. Seems this town is far more mysterious than I thought."
"Hehe…" Aina was pleased with Glen's reaction. She giggled, then continued, "An especially helpful townsperson told us that. Compared to the other residents, he was really warm. He said the old townspeople are practically one big family. They sleep in the center of town, and we hardly ever see them. Supposedly, it's so they won't harm others—and to keep the mayor company."
Hearing that, Glen felt like giving her that folding table had been worth it.
He was silent for a long moment, then said sincerely, "Thanks for telling me this. Otherwise, I'd have no idea where to learn it."
Aina seemed delighted. She spun in place and grinned. "I love sharing things like this! I can't even remember the last time I talked to anyone besides my brother."
"It's my pleasure."
And so, while Glen worked on his carpentry nearby, the puppet girl—like a fairy tale princess—chattered nonstop.
Both of them were thoroughly enjoying it. Their talk ranged from Aina's century of observations in town to the interesting stories of her and her brother's travels outside, lasting until evening.
In the course of their conversation, Glen also learned some things about the town—like how the strange monsters that prowled at night were actually the mayor's pets and wouldn't easily harm townsfolk.
"Oh! It's already dark—we can't keep chatting."
Midway through, Aina suddenly gasped, noticing night had fallen.
"I'm really sorry, Mr. Glen. I have to go back. My brother must know I slipped out by now—he'll scold me. Goodbye…"
The puppet girl turned to leave, but Glen, with a mischievous streak, said, "No rush. Your brother's already here."
Aina froze, clearly not getting his meaning at first.
Then a very familiar voice rang out, making her face fall.
"Aina, you've disappointed me."
Parlindes—who looked like a matchstick man—stepped out of the shadows. He was speaking to Aina, but his gaze was fixed on Glen.
"I'm sorry, Parlindes. I was just bored staying in the house…" Aina hung her head, apologetic.
Parlindes opened his mouth, then gave a resigned sigh. "Go back."
Aina lifted her skirt and hurried home.
Parlindes didn't move right away. He looked at Glen, who kept his head down working, and said, "Thanks for keeping Aina company. It's been a long time since I saw her that happy."
Glen tossed the wood in his hands aside, looked up at Parlindes, and said with a hint of teasing, "I thought you'd tell me not to get near your sister again."
Parlindes's fists clenched; he really wanted to punch the guy, but kept his patience. "I can tell right from wrong, strange boy."
With that, he turned and left.
This world is pretty fun… Glen silently smiled as he watched the puppet siblings walk away.
…
The next day.
After a fairly hearty breakfast, Glen bundled up the wooden furniture he'd finished yesterday onto a cart.
Once he was sure it was secure, he released the big elk, planning to have it pull the cart.
The elk seemed used to people and the environment here and didn't resist Glen's touch.
After feeding it some fodder, Glen hitched the cart to the elk. Seeing no resistance, he relaxed, then mimicked a coachman's motions and urged the "elk cart" forward at a gentle pace.
It wasn't fast, but it was far more efficient than walking.
Sitting comfortably on the elk cart, Glen got a taste of being a carter—not bad at all.
The rest of the journey didn't go so smoothly.
No sooner had they left Bayek's boundaries than a group of armored men blocked the road.
Leading them was a man in noble knight armor, clearly higher-ranking than the rest.
"Boy, you've offended a noble! Lord Chanis wants me to bring you back. Get down and come with me now!"
As he spoke, he rested his hand on the knight's sword at his waist, oozing menace.
"Lord Chanis?" Glen raised an eyebrow, then realized. "Oh, the parent of that curly‑haired teddy bear, right?"
Barbul's eyes widened. "Bold! How dare a lowly commoner show disrespect to a noble!"
The mercenaries around him drew their weapons; the sunlight glinting off the blades nearly blinded Glen.
Barbul expected the young man to wet himself under such pressure, but Glen stayed perfectly calm, as if their fierce looks were meant for blind people.
Glen glanced back at his furniture, mildly annoyed.
Should I go back with them and give that so‑called lord a beating, or just drive them off? I'd rather go back… but I'm worried about the goods.
After some thought, he decided to go.
"Fine, I'll go with you. But I need to hide my stuff first."
He pointed at the furniture behind him.
Barbul narrowed his eyes. He'd been about to curse—how dare a commoner make demands?
But seeing Glen's fearless demeanor, plus the fact that he lived in creepy Bayek, he wisely nodded.
Under those hostile gazes, Glen drove the elk cart into a rocky corner and tied the elk to a tree.
Then he set off with the noble mercenaries.
They all had horses; Glen had to walk. He didn't care—he'd settle the score when they arrived.
…
Inside Lord Chanis's manor.
The lord was chatting with a guest in the back garden.
The guest was also dressed as nobility, with a tuft of beard on his chin, his voice rising and falling dramatically.
The two seemed very familiar with each other, occasionally breaking into loud laughter.