This really wasn’t a big deal—after some time, once things quieted down, he could just resell it. With the material and craftsmanship of this fur robe, there was definitely a profit to be made.

Unexpectedly, the robe was extremely strange. The very night Kent brought it back, he saw ghosts.

That night, in the middle of the night, he heard a continuous chorus of wailing in his ears. The cries were thin and unending, neither male nor female, waking him from his sleep.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a dozen or so blurry, indistinct figures wandering aimlessly around his room. Each figure had a pair of deathly pale, bloodshot eyes and faces, and those hellish wails seemed to come from their mouths.

Kent was nearly scared to death on the spot. Luckily, these ghostly apparitions didn’t harm him, and before dawn, they faded into the fur robe.

Kent immediately threw the robe far away. But when he returned from the place he’d picked it up to his shop in Wildfire City, the haunted robe had somehow arrived before him, brazenly displayed in the shop.

He was anxious and terrified, repeatedly questioning the shop assistants, only to be told that a stranger had delivered it the previous night. They hadn’t seen the person’s face clearly, only vaguely remembered that he looked very pale.

When Kent heard this, his heart nearly stopped from fright. He immediately regarded the robe as a deadly curse and wanted nothing more than to destroy it.

Kent tried many ways to destroy the robe: burning it with fire—it wouldn’t catch; cutting it with scissors—it wouldn’t tear, and by the next day, any cut marks would miraculously disappear. After that, he threw it away several more times, but each time, a mysterious, pale-faced figure—whose face he could never quite see—would return it to him.

To this day, the robe still follows him like a shadow, impossible to shake off.

He didn’t dare sell the robe, either. Anyone who could afford such a garment in Wildfire City had at least some status. If something really happened, it would ultimately come back to him, Kent, and the consequences would be even worse.

Kent also knew the robe was probably cursed, but since it was stolen goods, he didn’t dare take it to someone to have the curse dispelled. Besides, the fees for a mage or priest to lift a curse were astronomical—charged in gold coins. Wasn’t that like cutting the flesh from his own body?

James Carter remained unmoved by Kent’s threats, calmly saying, “Five silver coins. I’ll take it.”

Kent only dared to bluster; he didn’t have the guts to actually do anything, nor was there any need. He had a family and a business—no reason to get into it with a penniless kid. Seeing that James Carter was unmoved, he lost his nerve and began to wonder if the other party had some leverage over him. His tone unconsciously softened.

“You said it—sold to you. But if anything happens after, you can’t blame me.”

He didn’t know if, after selling it, the robe would come back on its own. Kent was worried—he never wanted to endure those ghostly nights again. In just these few days, he’d become haggard, losing over ten pounds of fat.

James Carter took the robe, gave it a shake, and draped it over his shoulders. He immediately felt a wave of warmth. Strangely, the warmth wasn’t limited to his body—even his exposed head and hands felt toasty. The robe blocked out all the cold, not letting a trace reach James Carter.

“What a treasure! I’ve struck gold!” James Carter was secretly delighted, though he didn’t show a hint of it on his face. He looked at himself in the shop’s bronze mirror and couldn’t help but frown. “It’s too fancy. You need to help me make it look more ordinary.”

The robe hadn’t seemed like much in Kent’s hands, but once James Carter put it on, it immediately gave him an air of elegance and nobility. Combined with James Carter’s naturally roguish demeanor, he was exceptionally eye-catching.

Even Kent couldn’t help but be impressed, regretting a little that he’d sold such a fine robe for only five silver coins. But then he remembered the robe’s eerie nature and instantly felt a chill, losing all other thoughts.

Only after James Carter left wearing the now-plain robe did Kent finally breathe a little easier. Whether he could rid himself of this nightmare of a robe would be decided tonight.

Chapter Five: The Lion’s Roar in the Tavern

When James Carter appeared in the tavern in his new outfit, Old Hoyt was so shocked his mouth hung open. He stared for a long time before coming over, circling around James Carter.

“Tsk tsk, Su, did you spend your entire savings on this getup? You look much better now. Before, you were just a little beggar. So, have you given up on your mage dreams?”

Everyone in the tavern knew about Su’s dream of becoming a mage. They all laughed at him for overestimating himself, thinking he was delusional. Eating a commoner’s meal but eyeing a noble’s table—pure daydreaming.

James Carter laughed heartily. “Mage dreams? No, no, Old Hoyt, I will definitely become a mage—but not yet.”

Old Hoyt curled his lip, treating James Carter’s words as a joke: “Since there aren’t many customers now, go to the kitchen and have your breakfast. When you come back, remember to bring up a barrel of wine from the cellar.”

“Alright.” James Carter’s stomach had been growling with hunger since last night, so Hoyt’s words were just what he wanted to hear.

The chef of this little tavern was none other than Old Hoyt’s daughter, Anna. She was a kind-hearted middle-aged woman, a bit plump, but her features still retained some of the softness of her youth.