They Called Me Trash? Now I'll Hack Their World-Chapter 129: A Close One!

Three hours passed in relative silence broken only by the rhythmic clopping of the horse’s hooves on packed dirt.

The wagon rattled along country roads, taking us further from Greyford with each passing mile.

Fields stretched out on either side, gradually giving way to denser forest as we traveled. I kept checking my debug vision periodically, watching Scarlet’s glamour timer tick down.

[Glamour Duration: 1:47:33]

Less than two hours remaining.

We’d need to find somewhere safe before it wore off completely, somewhere Scarlet could drop the disguise without immediately being spotted and reported.

Eventually, we reached a riverside town as the sun began its final descent toward the horizon.

The town was smaller than Greyford, maybe a third the size, but still bustling with activity despite the approaching evening.

Merchants were loading the last of their goods onto boats at the docks, their shouts carrying across the water. Workers were finishing their day, tools slung over shoulders as they headed toward homes or taverns. Travelers sought lodging for the night, their tired faces reflecting the weariness I felt in my own bones.

The wagon driver let us off near the town center with a grunt and a nod, barely sparing us a glance before continuing on his route toward whatever destination he’d been heading for originally.

I stood there for a moment, taking in the layout of the town.

"We need food," I said, adjusting the bag on my shoulder. "And to find another wagon heading further out tomorrow."

Agnes simply nodded, her expression still distant, still carefully blank. She hadn’t said more than a handful of words since we’d left Greyford.

Scarlet just pulled her hood lower and fell into step behind us.

We made our way through the streets, passing shops closing for the night, their shutters being drawn and locked. The smell of cooking fires and river water hung heavy in the air.

I spotted an inn after a few minutes of walking, a two-story building with weathered wood siding and a painted sign hanging above the door that creaked slightly in the evening breeze.

The River’s Rest.

The paint was faded but the building looked solid enough, and I could hear the sounds of conversation and laughter from inside.

Good enough.

I pushed open the door and we stepped into warmth and light.

Inside, the common room was moderately full with maybe twenty or thirty people scattered throughout.

Travelers nursing ales and comparing road conditions. Locals gathered around tables, playing dice or cards.

A few rough-looking men in the corner who might have been adventurers, their weapons visible and well-maintained. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

The atmosphere was relaxed, comfortable. Nobody looked twice at us as we entered.

I approached the bar, where a heavyset man with a graying beard was wiping down mugs with practiced efficiency.

"Food for three," I said, keeping my voice level and polite. "And two rooms for the night if you have availability."

The innkeeper looked us over with the quick, assessing gaze.

"Two rooms, three meals." He scratched his beard thoughtfully. "That’ll be four silvers for the night, meals included. Extra silver if you want baths drawn."

I nodded and counted out the coins carefully from my pouch, the metal clinking as I placed them on the bar one by one.

The innkeeper swept them up with one meaty hand and jerked his thumb toward the stairs.

"Rooms three and four, top of the stairs on the left. Food’ll be out shortly. Find yourselves a seat."

"Thank you."

I turned away from the bar, then paused and checked my pouch discreetly, counting the remaining coins by touch.

Five silvers.

That’s all I have now.

My entire fortune, reduced to five silver coins that wouldn’t last more than a few days at this rate.

I sighed internally, pocketing the remaining coins, and moved to join Agnes and Scarlet at a table near the window where they’d already settled themselves.

The view outside showed the darkening street, a few people still hurrying to complete last-minute errands before full night fell.

The food arrived quickly, brought by a young serving girl who couldn’t have been more than fifteen.

Simple fare, thick slices of brown bread, bowls of hearty stew that smelled of vegetables and some kind of meat, and portions of roasted chicken that were still steaming.

"Thank you," I said to the girl, who bobbed a quick curtsy and hurried off to serve other tables.

We ate in silence.

I was halfway through my bowl, the warm stew settling pleasantly in my stomach and easing some of the tension from the day, when the door opened with a burst of cold air.

A group of men entered, five of them, moving with the kind of casual coordination that spoke of working together for a while.

They wore mismatched armor.

Their weapons were varied but well-maintained, swords, a crossbow, what looked like a nasty mace hanging from one man’s belt.

Slave hunters.

I recognized the type immediately, my stomach clenching. The way they moved through the room, eyes scanning faces with professional thoroughness, lingering on anyone who looked remotely non-human or out of place.

One of them pulled out a folded poster from inside his leather vest.

The same poster as the guard at the Greyford.

They moved through the common room methodically, checking a few patrons, asking questions in low voices. Getting head shakes in response, looks of confusion or disinterest.

They spent maybe five minutes inside, their eyes passing over our table briefly.

I kept eating, keeping my movements natural, unhurried. Just another traveler having dinner.

Scarlet kept her hood up, her face down, not moving a muscle.

The hunters found nothing of interest.

Then... they left.

I exhaled slowly, my grip on my own spoon relaxing as tension drained from my shoulders.

That had been too close.

If they’d looked harder. If they’d had a mage with them who could detect glamours. If Scarlet had panicked and done something to draw attention...

But they hadn’t.

We were safe.

For now.