They Called Me Trash? Now I'll Hack Their World-Chapter 167: Tessa?

Then I sheathed it carefully and turned toward the figure on the ground.

She’d collapsed backward, her knife dropped, staring up at me with wide eyes.

My brain stopped working.

"Tessa?"

She smiled sheepishly and waved.

"Hi!"

Behind me, I heard Scarlet make a strangled sound.

"You’ve got to be kidding me."

I just stood there, staring, my mind completely blank.

What!

How?

Why???

Tessa pushed herself to her feet, dusting off her cloak with exaggerated casualness like she hadn’t just been seconds away from being torn apart by wild hounds.

"Funny meeting you here!" She said brightly, like this was a chance encounter at the village market instead of the middle of a monster-infested forest at night.

"What are you doing here?!"

"Well," she said, maintaining that sheepish smile, "I was just passing by... my great aunt lives that way—"

I held up my hand.

She stopped talking.

I took a very deep breath.

Let it out slowly.

Then looked up at the sky like it might provide answers to why my life had become this complicated.

It didn’t.

"This is a nightmare," I said to no one in particular.

Then looked back at Tessa, the girl who was supposed to be safe in Oakmere, not following me into danger with only a small knife and apparently no survival skills whatsoever.

"Explain," I said flatly. "Now. The truth."

Her smile became slightly less sheepish and slightly more determined.

"I’m coming with you."

"Absolutely not."

"You can’t stop me."

She said it cheerfully, then added. "Now, is there any food? I’m starving."

As if to prove her point, her stomach growled loudly in the quiet clearing.

She chuckled and scratched her cheek, grinning.

"See?"

I sighed deeply.

My luck!

"Come on."

I turned and walked back toward our camp, not bothering to check if they followed.

They did.

And we settled back around the fire, the pot of my catastrophic cooking attempt still sitting where I’d left it.

I ladled some into a bowl and handed it to Tessa without comment.

She sat down beside me, took the bowl gratefully, and raised it to her lips.

Then grimaced.

"This is gross."

She looked at me, then at Scarlet, who was pointedly not making eye contact.

"Who made this?"

My eye twitched.

"Then don’t eat it if you don’t like it."

"So rude!" She protested, but kept the bowl.

"Says the one who just labeled her fiancé’s food gross."

Her eyes widened.

"Wait. You made this?"

"Who else?"

She stared at me for a moment, then at the bowl, then back at me.

Then she started eating again—but now with running commentary.

"It’s too salty, ow, hot... why are the vegetables crunchy and mushy at the same time? That shouldn’t be possible."

"Is that supposed to be meat? It tastes like you boiled a boot, honestly, Jin, did you even try—"

I listened to her complain and nag between every single bite, somehow managing to finish the entire bowl despite her protests.

When she was done, she patted her belly with satisfaction and let out an unladylike burp.

"You really need cooking lessons."

Scarlet made a sound from where she’d settled against a rock then pointedly laid down, closing her eyes like she was absolutely not listening to any of this.

I sighed and leaned back against the log behind me, staring at the fire. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

"Why did you follow us?"

Silence settled over us for a moment.

Then Tessa exhaled slowly.

"I’ve never really been outside the village before," she said quietly, her earlier cheerfulness fading into something more genuine.

"Well, except for two times when I went to Greyford with Grandfather for guild business. But that wasn’t real experience. Just sitting in a wagon, going to the guild hall, then coming straight back home."

She leaned back, mirroring my position, looking up at the stars visible through the break in the canopy.

Her eyes closed.

And I found myself looking at her.

The firelight caught her features in warm gold, softening the lines of exhaustion and highlighting the curve of her cheek, the set of her jaw.

Her hair had come loose from its tie during the hound attack, falling in messy waves around her face. There was dirt on her nose and a small scratch on her forehead from the underbrush.

But...

She looked... beautiful.

When did I start thinking about her like this?

She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes, staring up at the stars.

"When I was little, Grandfather used to tell me stories about his adventures. About his time in the army." Her voice took on a nostalgic quality, warm with memory.

She gestured animatedly with her hands, painting pictures in the air.

"He’d describe the mountains he’d climbed, these massive peaks where you could touch the clouds." Her hands went up, fingers spread wide.

"And the battles he fought—not the scary parts thouhg, he never told me those—but the exciting parts. The clever strategies. The impossible odds. The way he and his unit became like family."

She was smiling now, her eyes distant but bright.

"He told me about different cities, about markets that sold things from across the entire continent, about festivals where people from a dozen different cultures all celebrated together. About forests so old and vast you could walk for weeks and never see the same tree twice."

Her expression became dreamy and wistful.

"Ever since I was little, I dreamed of traveling like he did. Seeing those things with my own eyes instead of just hearing about them."

She paused, and her expression changed, the brightness dimming, something heavier settling over her features.

"But..."

Her hands dropped to her lap.

"My parents were adventurers too. Grandfather used to tell me about them, how strong they were, how fearless, carving thrill of discovering new places. How they loved each other and loved me."

Her voice had gone quieter.

"How they went on their planned last adventure, before retiring."

Her eyes glistened in the firelight.

"And how... they never came back."