The rain pattered down on the rooftops of Tata Village, sliding off the eaves along the logs and thatch.

At the entrance of a spacious wooden house located in the center of the village, Grush shook off his wet raincoat, leaving behind a patch of water stains.

Pushing open the door, "Bloody Foot" Defort was sitting by the fireplace, roasting the fire, with oil from last night's meal still stuck on his messy beard.

"Blackscar" Blackscar stood by the window, his high cheekbones almost able to hold a kettle, and his hair was plastered to his pale forehead by the rain.

"Grush my brother is here, I've just heated up some butter beer, come on." Bloody Foot raised the iron kettle in his hand high, as if unfazed by the boiling hot steam.

The "Beastman" Grush did not decline, took off his leather gloves, and took the butter beer from Bloody Foot, gulping it down.

His body instantly warmed up.

Grush found a spot at random to sit down, seeing that all the big and small leaders from the cave jungle were present. He then began to speak:

"Since everyone is here, let's not waste time and talk about the matter."

Outside the window, the rain made a rustling sound, while several small leaders looked at each other, none daring to speak.

"I know you're embarrassed to speak up, let me take the hit." Grush turned to look at Defort, "Big Boss Defort, we'd like to borrow some money and food from you."

"Yes, yes..."

"Damn Salvation Army forced the Church to close the roads, strict monitoring everywhere, no one pays tribute to us anymore."

Contrary to most Imperial People's impressions, these bandits were not stationed in mountain villages, going on raids every now and then.

While they indeed had strongholds and mountain villages in the mountains, most did not live there.

These bandits were mostly hooligans and ruffians from the vicinity of the cave jungle, with money they went down the mountain, without they went up.

Their main daily business consisted of setting up checkpoints illegally, plundering merchants, robbing shop workshops, extorting villages, smuggling, and kidnapping.

They gathered annually, divided the money at the end of autumn, and after dividing, except leaving a few on the mountain to guard, the rest returned to villages and towns.

This is why the lords could never completely eradicate them; the vicinity of the cave jungle was full of their eyes.

Some desperate refugees seeking work would find someone to introduce them to join.

In a sense, being a bandit equated to taking temporary jobs.

At their peak, nearly a thousand bandits were hidden in the cave jungle, but the money they robbed only sufficed for a living, only the bandit leaders and core few had good lives.

But ever since the Salvation Army rose, life became tough.

Because land could be divided, many refugee cannon fodder turned into decent people, even if not in that group, they could go to the Saint Plow Monastery or work in workshops as helpers.

The Pope's Palace issued plenty of orders, finally giving local workshops the money to hire refugee labor.

This led to a sharp reduction in manpower for bandits, with only five hundred left in Kasha County and Lower Reif County, the rest almost all fled.

Also, due to the emergence of the Salvation Army, the cave jungle bandits faced economic blockade.

Having lost their economic source, they were about to eat through their reserves, thus urgently convened for a meeting.

"Although I have some food and money stored, it's not much." Defort's voice carried a post-drinking slur, "How about we go kidnap a woman from the Salvation Army? They've destroyed so many monasteries, they must have money."

"Big Boss Defort, this..." Grush looked startled, "We've tried before, the Salvation Army's cavalry use magic, killing people from twenty meters away."

"It's not like they're Angels descended." Defort pointed behind him with his thumb, "Didn't we kill several of their monks?"

For a moment, Grush was at a loss for words, able to beat a decreed army, could they really stand against them?

Sure enough, before Grush could speak, the small leaders began to murmur.

"If it hadn't been for Big Boss Grush saving you last time, you'd have been flattened by the Salvation Army's Knight."

"Only able to bully monks without weapons."

"Hey hey hey, what are you whispering about? Thinking I won't hear that?" Perhaps seeing he couldn't suppress them, Defort pondered for a few seconds before speaking, "Alright, I can provide 1200 dinars, enough to buy 1000 gallons of grain, isn't that generous?"

What's that supposed to mean? Even the good-tempered Grush nearly cursed aloud.

1200 dinars to buy 1000 gallons of grain is the usual price, and now we're in a famine!

"Dang!"

Suddenly turning, Blackscar Blackscar raised his fist high, face twisted with anger, slammed it down on the table.

Those nearby shuddered in fright, utensils, ceramic pots, oil lamps, and candlesticks bounced and rolled to the floor.

"What's the matter?" Startled, then flushed with anger, Defort slapped the table as he stood up, "Have you been possessed by a demon?!"

```

"You think I'm dying for you?" Blackscar's lips curled up, showing blood-red gums, "Selecting targets, settling stolen goods, which one wasn't done by me!

Risking life and limb, looting merchants, which one wasn't done by my brother Grush!

Apart from sitting in the house and drinking beer every day, what have you done? What do you have besides a good Papa, having the Master Bishop as your granddad?"

"You damn goat, are you challenging me?" Defort walked around the table and pointed his finger right at Blackscar's nose.

Blackscar slapped his hand away and sneered, "Now that Master Bishop is gone, we definitely need to find a new backer.

I have a lead, to get in touch with the Count of Lower Reif, but it requires money for arrangements.

During the distribution, you've taken so much, and now, not even a single copper coin from you?"

"Can money alone guarantee anything? I'm not like you, my daughter is 16 this year, just right to be the lover of the Jinhe Town Bishop, prepared on both sides."

"The Jinhe Town Bishop is 70 years old, and you're willing?" Blackscar said sarcastically.

Defort said nonchalantly, "Do you have a daughter? Even your old hen doesn't lay eggs, what do you have?"

"Defort, don't say anymore." Grush immediately tried to rush up to stop Blackscar, but he was a step too late.

Upon hearing Defort's words, Blackscar was first stunned, then his whole head turned red to the roots of his hair.

He looked around, picked up the iron candlestick from the table, aimed at Defort's head, and slammed it down.

"Hey! Ouch!"

Defort, after all, was a bandit by nature, awkwardly leaned back and avoided the blow.

"You dare to hit me?!"

In disbelief, he looked at Blackscar, turned and lunged at the wall, pulling out a saber from the hanging weapons: "I'll slice you open!"

"Stop him, stop him!" Grush, leaning his head against Defort's chest and hugging his waist, shouted desperately.

Several bewildered small bandit leaders hurriedly stepped in, pulling apart these two who were about to clash.

Amidst shattered pottery on the table and scattered wood chips on the ground, they finally sat down calmly.

Defort, tenderly touching the tapestry that had lost a corner, stuffed a handkerchief into his bleeding nostril: "I know you need money and food, but I'll tell you, I have money, but the food is only enough for my family.

If not, see how much food I'm worth, chop off my head and exchange it with the Salvation Army for rations."

"Hmph!" Blackscar snorted, turned his head to look at the rain outside the window.

Defort coughed lightly: "As for you, don't think of the Salvation Army as too strong, I've investigated, they won against the decree guild through tricks.

I've got news, they're recently assembling carts and ox carts, likely to swap grains from El Ancient Path in the cave forest.

We should, think of a way, find out who's managing this.

I'll put in money for arrangements, let them give us some, surely you won't call me stingy after that, right?"

"What if they refuse? Or demand an exorbitant price?" Blackscar asked.

Defort sneered, "Is the knife in your hand just for show? The forest is so vast, if we harass them daily, can they guard against us daily?

Worst-case scenario, go home, by then, those bastards should have no complaints about going back home, right?"

The organization mode between bandit leaders and bandits is somewhat similar to the Five Dynasties Feudal Towns.

Bandit leaders are mostly satisfied with the benefits they gain, but the disgruntled ones are the "tooth soldiers".

If a bandit leader cannot satisfy the interests of the "tooth soldiers", they could also be collectively replaced by their subordinates.

The leaders exchanged glances, feeling like this made sense.

Moreover, since Defort said he'd spend money, naturally they wouldn't force him further, thus they all offered kind words and left one after another.

Looking at Blackscar who left first, and then watching Defort alone in the room sulking, Grush sighed heavily.

He picked up a raincoat, was about to put it on when his gaze suddenly fixed on a small abandoned house in the distance.

No umbrella, he walked toward it through the rain, stared at a patch of water on the wall, frowning.

He sniffed up close, confirmed it wasn't urine, then began feeling around the ground nearby.

Soon, he found a twisted footprint beside the shrubs, but this didn't look like an adult's footprint.

Judging by the depth of the footprint, and this method of hiding footprints...

"Demon Hunter?" Grush mumbled to himself, perplexed.

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