Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 520

Chapter 520 117.2 - Second Mission

"I suggest you keep your expectations to yourself. Judging someone just by their age can be detrimental if you might not know."

The Mayor's eyes widened slightly at my response, clearly taken aback by the firmness in my tone. He wasn't used to being spoken to in such a way, especially by someone he perceived as inexperienced. However, the authority in my voice and the confidence I exuded made him reconsider his initial judgment.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering to the guards who had been standing silently at attention by the door. Their presence was more symbolic than necessary, a show of force to ensure that anyone entering his office understood their place. But as they looked at me, it was clear that I wasn't fazed by them in the slightest.

The Mayor shifted uncomfortably, the weight of the situation settling in. He realized that underestimating me could be a mistake—one that he couldn't afford to make, given the town's precarious state.

"Very well, Mr. Natusalune."

And he accepted my words.

"I'll defer to your expertise. The situation here is serious, and I can't afford to let personal judgments cloud my decisions."

He motioned for the guards to step back, giving me space. The tension in the room eased slightly, the power dynamic subtly shifting as the Mayor acknowledged my authority.

"Let's proceed with the investigation," I said, maintaining a calm but firm demeanor. "The sooner we start, the sooner we can get to the bottom of this."

The Mayor nodded, clearly more respectful now. "Of course. I'll have someone take you to the fields and introduce you to the farmers immediately. They've been dealing with this for weeks, and any insights they can provide might help you understand what's happening."

"That is good."

He quickly gave instructions to one of the guards, who left the room to make the necessary arrangements. The Mayor then turned back to me, his earlier apprehension replaced by a cautious respect.

"Thank you for your understanding, Mr. Natusalune," he said. "I'll ensure you have everything you need to conduct your investigation."

With that, he gestured for me to follow him as we prepared to head out to the fields. As we walked through the building, the Mayor's demeanor was markedly different—more cooperative, less dismissive. He had come to understand that while I might not look the part of a seasoned operative, I carried the weight of my mission with confidence and resolve.

I followed the Mayor and the personnel he assigned to guide me out of the office and through the winding streets of Shange Town.

The fields weren't far from the town center, and as we approached, the signs of the problem became increasingly apparent.

The once vibrant and lush fields that were the pride of Shange Town now looked sickly and barren.

Rows of Moonberry plants, which should have been bursting with the rich, dark fruit they were known for, were instead withered and dry. The ground beneath them was hardened and cracked, a far cry from the fertile soil it should have been.

The personnel stopped at the edge of one of the fields, allowing me to take in the sight before us.

I could see the plants up close now; their leaves yellowed and curled as if they had been drained of life. The Moonberries that had managed to grow were small, misshapen, and covered in a strange, mottled pattern that hinted at some kind of infection or blight.

I crouched down, running my fingers over the dry, brittle leaves. They crumbled at my touch, the plant disintegrating into dust. The soil was similarly unyielding, more like stone than the rich, loamy earth that should have nourished these crops.

"This is worse than I expected," I muttered to myself, though loud enough for the personnel to hear.

"The farmers have tried everything," the man assigned to me said, his voice tinged with frustration and helplessness. "Fertilizers, new irrigation methods, even burning the infected plants to stop the spread… but nothing's worked. It's like the land itself is dying." frёewebηovel.cѳm

With that, he gestured for me to follow him as we prepared to head out to the fields. As we walked through the building, the Mayor's demeanor was markedly different—more cooperative, less dismissive. He had come to understand that while I might not look the part of a seasoned operative, I carried the weight of my mission with confidence and resolve.

He quickly gave instructions to one of the guards, who left the room to make the necessary arrangements. The Mayor then turned back to me, his earlier apprehension replaced by a cautious respect.

I followed the Mayor and the personnel he assigned to guide me out of the office and through the winding streets of Shange Town.

I nodded. It was evident that this wasn't just a simple agricultural problem; it was something different.

I needed to dig deeper, both literally and figuratively.

I activated my [Eyes], focusing on the flow of mana within the field. What I saw only confirmed my suspicions.

The mana was stagnant.

It wasn't just that the plants were infected—the very life energy of the land was being drained away, leaving nothing but a barren husk in its place.

I walked further into the field, my gaze sweeping over the rows of withered plants. I noticed that the damage wasn't uniform; some areas were more affected than others. I crouched down again, this time digging into the soil with my fingers.

Beneath the hardened surface, the earth was cold and lifeless, as if something had poisoned it from within.

'Hmm...Is it corruption? No, there is no evidence of corrosive mana.' That was weird. Compared to how things would look when corrosive mana would affect the environment, this one was different.

In a sense, normally, the mana would directly assimilate with the body and the living parts, affecting those parts. And if that were to happen, I would have seen the traces of mana in this place.

I scanned the horizon, my gaze shifting to a field on the outskirts that seemed untouched by the decay plaguing the others. It stood out like an oasis amidst the withering landscape, its crops still vibrant and healthy, a stark contrast to the surrounding desolation.

'Why hasn't this field been affected?' I wondered, intrigued by the anomaly.

I gestured toward the field, turning to the man beside me. "What about that one?" I asked, my tone neutral but curious. "It looks like it's avoided whatever is happening here."

The man followed my gaze, and as his eyes landed on the untouched field, a look of disdain crossed his face. He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to speak openly, but eventually, he sighed and replied.

"That field belongs to a mother and her son," he said, his voice tinged with contempt. "They're… different. Keep to themselves mostly, don't interact much with the rest of the town. Some say they're strange, maybe even cursed."

I raised an eyebrow at the man's tone, noting the bitterness in his voice. "Different how?" I pressed, trying to get to the heart of the matter.

The man shifted uncomfortably, clearly reluctant to elaborate. "The mother… she's a bit of a recluse. Some folks say she practices… unusual things. Herbs, remedies, that sort of thing. And the son, well… he's always been odd. Keeps to himself, doesn't speak much. People avoid them, mostly. They're outsiders, even though they've lived here as long as anyone can remember."

I nodded thoughtfully, piecing together the information. The field's untouched state and the family's reputation as outsiders suggested there might be more to them than met the eye.

"Have they said anything about the situation?" I asked, keeping my tone even.

The man shook his head. "Not much. They don't talk to anyone unless they have to. But their field… it's the only one that hasn't been touched by whatever's going on. Some of the other townsfolk think they're responsible, that maybe they've done something to protect their own crops while the rest of us suffer."

I could hear the resentment in his voice, a common reaction in situations like this where fear and uncertainty fueled suspicion.

But I wasn't interested in hearsay; I needed facts, something concrete to go on.

"Take me to them," I said.

The man blinked, taken aback by my directness. "Are you sure? They're not exactly… welcoming."

"I'm sure," I replied.

"Th-"

"I will not repeat."

"…..Understood…"