However, Jason Carter didn’t think that the private mercenaries of the ruler of Refuge Barrier No. 113 were necessarily that formidable. In fact, he rarely even saw these mercenaries come out; whether they had any real combat experience, or had even seen blood, was highly questionable.

At this moment, Jason Carter saw a few of those mercenaries smoking filtered cigarettes—the kind with filters, which were rarely seen in the town.

A faint smoke drifted over, and Jason Carter distinctly smelled something strange in it. It reminded him of what Old Martinez had said: that many cigarettes from the factory had addictive substances added to them, which could make people excited.

Jason Carter was puzzled. For a profession like mercenaries, where you needed to keep a clear head, they were actually smoking this stuff?

He had seen some people go crazy from smoking, and these mercenaries were just smoking what looked like a higher-end version.

A small crowd began to gather in the town to watch, because these people had clean faces, forming a stark contrast with the townsfolk.

“Bro, is the water supply in the refuge barrier really plentiful? Can you wash your face every day?” Brian Cooper blinked his bright, sparkling eyes.

“Don’t be jealous. The oil on our faces actually protects our skin…” Jason Carter comforted him half-heartedly.

But then he suddenly noticed a unique figure among the group. A woman, wearing a baseball cap with the brim pulled low so her age couldn’t be determined, dressed in relatively normal clothes—loose but well-fitted.

Jason Carter paid attention to her because seeing her was like encountering a wild beast in the wilderness.

There was something off about this group; Jason Carter trusted his instincts.

Jason Carter and Brian Cooper stood at a distance, watching, vaguely realizing that this group was asking Old Martinez, who collected sparrows for the grocery store, about something.

They heard the loud-voiced Old Martinez say, “If you want to cross Jing Mountain, you definitely need to find that kid Jason Carter. Without him, you won’t make it. Besides, there are wolf packs out in the wild. I suggest you don’t go through Jing Mountain.”

One mercenary sneered, “Wolves will run away at the sound of gunfire. Why should we worry about wolves?”

Jason Carter was taken aback. So wolves are afraid of gunfire? Maybe that’s just animal instinct. He’d never seen firearms himself, so he wasn’t sure if that was true, but he was a bit skeptical.

Another mercenary asked, “Who is Jason Carter? We don’t need him to be skilled, as long as he knows the way.”

“Oh, Jason Carter is our town’s famous hunting expert. He knows most of the routes. You really can’t go wrong finding him,” Old Martinez said with a squinty smile. “You’re definitely looking for the right guy, but that kid’s a bit off in the head…”

Hearing this, Jason Carter turned to leave with Brian Cooper. “Isn’t Old Martinez’s son in your class too, that chubby kid?”

Brian Cooper gasped, “Bro, don’t drag family into this…”

Jason Carter frowned. He’d originally wanted to stay far away from this, but he hadn’t expected Old Martinez to recommend him to this strange group.

Chapter 8: Really Out of His Mind

Night fell, and everyone in the town returned to their homes. Those with houses shut their doors tightly, while those living in shacks made sure their curtains were drawn tight.

When he got back that night, Jason Carter heard that a man who worked at the rubber factory had been stabbed to death. Apparently, someone found out the man had a habit of saving money and got greedy.

People in the town liked to live together in groups—friends, brothers, couples would share a place and take turns keeping watch at night, as if that made things safer. That’s how Jason Carter and Brian Cooper had started out together.

But there were also some people who ended up being harmed by the very people they lived with.

Perpetrators were usually shortsighted. What they didn’t realize was that after they harmed their companions, no one would ever trust them again.

Those who ended up alone after such acts rarely met a good end.

Jason Carter sat in his shack, unwrapping the cloth bandage on his wounded hand. When he saw the wound, he frowned. The area around it was red and swollen—a sign of infection. He looked up and saw Brian Cooper coming over, so he quickly wrapped the cloth back around his hand.

“Bro, is your wound okay?” Brian Cooper asked.

“It’s fine,” Jason Carter replied calmly.

“I don’t believe you. Let me see,” Brian Cooper said, reaching to undo the bandage Jason Carter had just rewrapped.

“I said it’s fine, so it’s fine,” Jason Carter pushed Brian Cooper away. “If something’s wrong, I’ll go buy medicine.”

“Don’t lie to me. Last time you tried to tough it out,” Brian Cooper said, sounding aggrieved.

Jason Carter sighed. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t risk my life like that.”

In the animal world, wild beasts rarely hunt recklessly, because they all understand one thing: getting injured could mean death, even from a small wound.

If even beasts understand this, how could Jason Carter not?

“Hey, bro, look—there are two potatoes and three pills hidden under the chair. Are these the anti-inflammatory meds you wanted to buy today? They look the same,” Brian Cooper said in surprise. “Did you put them there?”

“It wasn’t me,” Jason Carter shook his head, then examined the three pills. “They really are just regular anti-inflammatory medicine.”