Free Web NovelChapter 482: Chapter 483: Refugee Camp_1
South pond of the park, refugee camp.
Aiden leaned on his cane with one hand while pointing a gun at the beggar’s back with the other, signaling him to walk in front.
The beggar’s face was covered in blood, and he mumbled weakly as he hobbled forward, cradling one arm and barely holding onto a lantern with his dangling fingers.
This pathetic act was performed at Aiden’s behest to make it seem as though he had just endured a beating severe enough to cripple him.
This also made them stand out in the camp, and with the help of night-vision black magic and the sporadic firelight between tents, Aiden could see pairs of eyes filled half with fear and half with curiosity—young and old, men and women.
Some faces looked like harmless, pitiable civilians: Aiden saw a middle-aged woman with her face smudged with soot, cooking something over a brick stove with a battered pot; a gaunt, wrinkled old man shivering in the straw bed inside a tent clothed in flimsy fabric; and undernourished children huddled together, sucking their fingers and staring intently their way.
Of course, there were also plenty of people eyeing them with the ravenous look of wolves that hadn’t eaten for days. In this lawless land, gangs of bullies like the ones they encountered today were probably not uncommon, and without an apparent "victim" and a gun in hand, it would have been difficult to keep these people at bay.
"The thing you’re doing now, if those people who were giving speeches earlier saw it, they would probably accuse you of infringing human rights," the Goddess of Revenge suddenly appeared at Aiden’s side and spoke in a mocking tone.
"Criminals don’t have many rights," Aiden replied coolly.
"On another note, the scenery here is starkly contrasting with the outside... I can’t believe people these days are still smoking scorpion venom," she added.
"Scorpion venom?" Aiden asked, turning his head to look back subconsciously.
He shared sensory perceptions with the Goddess of Revenge, who could see what he saw. Just at a glance, he did indeed spot a refugee holding a scorpion, likely caught from beneath the rocks and dead leaves of the small forest or from within a flower bed.
Aiden had initially thought the man intended to eat the scorpion, but the Goddess of Revenge’s words suggested there was another use for the creature.
"It’s used as a substitute for recreational drugs. Scorpion venom is pretty potent; one puff can get you high quite quickly. I’ve seen mercenaries who worship me, when they couldn’t get their favorite alcohol or drugs, consume all sorts of bizarre things: toxic insects, poisonous mushrooms... Basically anything that can cause hallucinations. These things are cheaper and easier to come by," the Goddess of Revenge answered, "Such substances are likely to be popular among the refugees."
So this world has such things too... Aiden thought to himself.
"And it’s also easier to ruin lives," Aiden added. "The poison of a scorpion is a neurotoxin. Over time..."
"People who see no hope for survival are more likely to be drawn to these kinds of escapist methods. Even if their rational minds tell them they need bread to stay alive, they’ll still think a bottle of strong liquor that temporarily takes away their despair is better, even if they may never wake up from it—they might even prefer that. I’ve said it before, people can’t stay rational forever," the Goddess of Revenge said with a grin.
Aiden no longer felt like observing the surrounding refugees; everything was so disturbing. Although he had prepared himself, witnessing it firsthand was still a shock. There wasn’t much room for morality and civilized order here; there was only one theme—survival. Everyone was struggling to live, yet in their eyes, there was no hope for survival, only the goal to survive another day.
The yellow tent described by the beggar soon came into view. As he said, the entrance was cluttered with salvaged metal equipment and barely functioning household items. The tent flap was closed, but light from an oil lamp seeped through the gaps. The occupant, Tabus, seemed to live in relatively better conditions within the refugee camp; he could afford to use an oil lamp, while Aiden noticed that most tents were pitch-dark.
Aiden kicked the beggar in the back, sending him sprawling into the tent.
Then Aiden heard shouts from inside, "You damn bug, what are you doing in my tent... Oh my God!"
The cursing turned into a scream midway, as the beggar’s bloodied face clearly had frightened the other party.
Aiden lifted the curtain and walked in, directly revealing the weapon in his hand to the tent owner, whose face was full of shock.
"Good evening, Mr. Tabus, right? I have something I want to discuss with you. I asked him to lead the way, please don’t mind," Aiden greeted the man with an unruffled demeanor.
As soon as Tabus saw the gun, he subconsciously raised his hands, "You, you want money? I don’t have much..."
"Don’t worry, I just have a few questions. A few days ago, a gentleman who often walks his dog in the square came here specifically to find you—is that true?" As Aiden spoke, he suddenly noticed the beggar crawling in an attempt to slip out of the tent by his feet, so he kicked him over to prevent him from shouting outside, "Who said you could leave?"
But in the brief instant his gaze was diverted, Tabus, who was initially being questioned by Aiden, turned and dashed toward the tent window, attempting to leap out directly.
In a moment of urgency, Aiden fired his gun, the bullet whizzing past Tabus’s ear, but the man didn’t stop his movement.
Without hesitation, Aiden shot and wounded the man’s leg.
Tabus fell to the ground, cradling his leg and howling in pain. Aiden aimed the gun at him, his gaze growing sharp, while at the same time, the Goddess of Vengeance appeared beside him and said, "This guy, he’s got a guilty conscience."
"I’ll just confirm it—you didn’t meddle with anything, did you?" Aiden asked.
"Do you have to suspect me of everything, isn’t that tiring? Why would I interfere with you in this sort of thing?" the Goddess of Vengeance replied indifferently.
"This is interesting," Aiden said, looking at Tabus.
A person’s initial reaction often reveals much; when Aiden entered with a gun, Tabus raised his hands and didn’t plan on making a risky escape. He even wondered if Aiden was there to rob him, which suggests he wasn’t so frightened by the gun to lose his wits.
However, the moment Aiden mentioned Professor Dodge, just a brief shift in gaze, and Tabus had tried to bolt for his life, even ignoring Aiden’s warning shot. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓
What exactly was it about the question he had asked that made Tabus want to flee the scene without regard for his own safety?
Tabus, clutching his leg, had soaked his pant leg with blood in just a short while; it seemed the shot had hit an artery.
After a brief moment of thought, Aiden made a decision.
He began whispering a divine word, commanding the things around him to return to an order he deemed appropriate.
The chaotic room began to tidy itself, the bloodstains on the trousers rapidly shrank, and the blood retracted back into the wound. Finally, the bullet also moved out of Tabus’s wound and returned to Aiden’s gun. By then, Tabus’s leg was no longer bleeding.
Watching the scene calmly, Aiden had already experimented with it; the "Restoration" divine word, which had evolved to the intermediate level, could now work on living beings.
