The old man’s face, save for the lack of gaudy, colorful face paint, looked nearly identical to the clown — especially that exaggerated sausage-wide mouth, which, when he smiled, seemed to split almost back to his ears.

Fortunately, he lacked the clown’s neurotic habit of telling jokes.

“Warriors, I have already arranged your accommodations. Please follow me.”

The village chief walked ahead and led them into the village.

As she walked, Bai Youwei looked around at her surroundings. Standing on the hillside, she hadn’t noticed, but now that she was inside, she could see that the houses here were all scattered apart, with considerable distances between them — not a single pair of buildings shared a wall.

The villagers were all very friendly. The few they passed smiled and nodded at them in greeting. Children chased and played in the streets. Young people labored diligently. Even the elderly could be seen watering flowers, sweeping courtyards, and hanging out laundry at their doorsteps.

The overall atmosphere was wonderful — warm and pleasant, full of the texture of daily life.

Looking at it this way, Bai Youwei could detect no clue whatsoever that pointed to anything werewolf-related.

Before she realized it, they had reached the center of the village.

Here stood a circular wishing well, and rising from the middle of the water was a sculpture — a man and a woman.

“Who are they?” Hans asked the village chief. “Why does the village have a statue like this?”

“Oh… these are the ancestors of our village.” The village chief tilted his head back to look at the statue, then closed his eyes, bowed his head in respectful salutation, with an air of deep reverence and devotion.

“Legend has it that long, long ago, there was a great mountain covered in monkshood. The human tribe and the werewolf tribe lived on opposite sides of the mountain, regarding each other with hatred, and often clashing in battle.

“Yet a human warrior and a werewolf princess, amid all that strife, found love in each other’s hearts. They loved deeply and refused to part. In the end they were banished by their respective peoples. The warrior brought the princess here, and together they built a village of their own — what is now our Werewolf Village.”

So that’s how it was…

After hearing this, Bai Youwei felt that even the village’s name seemed less jarring now. With a romantic legend attached to it, it even felt rather touching.

The village chief let out a heavy sigh. “Originally, Werewolf Village was an incredibly prosperous and flourishing place — possessing both the wisdom and diligence of humans and the keen instincts and strength of werewolves, with lifespans far exceeding those of ordinary humans. Perhaps because we inspired too much envy, our village was cursed! Every night, a villager is killed by a werewolf!”

Everyone nodded in understanding.

This was evidently the game’s backstory — explaining why a villager transformed into a werewolf every night. It was the result of a curse.

The village chief added, “Some houses have recently become vacant. Warriors may use whichever they like — please, this way.”

He led Bai Youwei and Shen Mo, along with Hans and his group, to a small cottage, opened the door, and bowed with a sweeping gesture of invitation.

Shen Mo stepped inside.

The interior was an ordinary dwelling — a stone bed, a wooden table and chairs, and some simple pots and jars.

He swept the room with a glance, then turned toward the door when Bai Youwei did not follow.

Bai Youwei was standing in the doorway, expression slightly strange.

“What’s going on?” Bai Youwei furrowed her brow, turning to the village chief. “Why can’t I enter?”

“Each cottage can only house one person.” The village chief explained patiently, his sausage-wide mouth stretched into a grin. “This is for everyone’s safety. At night, a werewolf chooses one house to attack — the more people inside, the greater the casualties.”

“What kind of reasoning is that?” Bai Youwei pushed back. “More people means more safety! If a whole group of people were in a house, surely they could deal with one wolf?”

The village chief’s expression immediately became peculiar — something like stunned, surprised, confused, and somewhat put-upon all at once. He had probably never been argued with quite like this before.

“No one can fight off a werewolf.” The village chief gave a low cough and said, “A werewolf’s howl can shatter a person’s courage. Even the most valiant warrior, in the face of a werewolf, will find their strength and speed rendered utterly useless…”

—