Who Says I’m Not a Legitimate Adventurer?

On the other side of the bar counter—

Hakon, his eyes bleary with drunkenness, casually swept his gaze toward the corner.

When he saw Lance sitting there quietly eating meat, an expression of displeasure immediately appeared on his face.

He recognized Lance—the guy mocked in this tavern as the “pretty boy Scribe.”

“Tch, pretty boy…”

He tilted his head back and gulped down a mouthful of ale. The stimulation of alcohol caused the image of that outsider Adventurer who had stolen his lover to gradually overlap with this clean-cut Scribe before him.

Coupled with the fact that he had just heard that this kid even enjoyed special treatment from Amber—

The nameless anger in his heart instantly became impossible to suppress.

Hakon staggered to his feet, relying on the alcohol’s influence, and walked straight toward Lance.

“Bang!”With a dull thud, Hakon slammed the heavy wooden mug in his hand onto the table in front of Lance, splashing ale that nearly landed in Lance’s plate.

“Hey, pretty boy.”

Hakon looked down at Lance from above, reeking of alcohol, his eyes full of provocation.

“This is a place for Adventurers. Trash like you who lives off women—get lost.”

The surrounding noise instantly quieted. Quite a few people turned to watch, eager for entertainment.

Lance stopped his knife and fork.

He raised his head, calmly glanced at Hakon, then looked toward Amber in the distance who was busy working.

Starting a fight here brought no benefit—it would only cause trouble for Amber.

And getting entangled with a drunken piece of trash like this would not only lower his standing but might also expose his strength.

“Fine.”

Without any argument, Lance picked up his plate and silently moved two seats over.

Seeing how “sensible” the other party was, Hakon felt the pent-up frustration in his chest instantly clear.

“Hahahahaha!”

He let out a harsh burst of laughter, pointing at Lance as he loudly mocked:

“Look! Everyone, look at this pretty boy! What a spineless little chick!”

Apparently still unsatisfied, he even leaned his face closer to Lance, intending to continue humiliating the weak young man.

But in the very next second—

“Splash!”

A full mug of cold, frothy ale was violently thrown onto Hakon’s detestable face.

His arrogant laughter stopped abruptly.

The cold liquid dripped from his hair and beard, making him look utterly ridiculous.

“You—”

Hakon was just about to curse, but suddenly shut his mouth.

What greeted him was Amber’s furious face.

“Watch your mouth!”

The girl stood with her hands on her hips, like a lioness protecting her cub.

Hakon was about to flare up, ready to teach this ignorant little girl a lesson—

At that moment, the half-closed curtain of the back kitchen was lifted by a thick hand.

A burly middle-aged man, built like a brown bear, walked out.

He wore an oil-stained apron, and his exposed arms were covered in crisscrossing old scars.

He leaned lazily against the doorframe, casually playing with a boning knife in his hand, his cold gaze fixed on Hakon.

Without saying a single word—

The oppressive aura of someone who had crawled out from mountains of corpses and seas of blood made Hakon sober up instantly. Cold sweat broke out down his back.

This man was a true ruthless figure.

The anger that had just surged within Hakon was instantly extinguished.

He swallowed hard, wiped his face with his sleeve, and prepared to leave this place of trouble in disgrace.

“Stop.”

Amber’s cold voice sounded behind him.

“The drink money.”

Hakon paused, his face turning as ugly as if he had swallowed a fly.

“I… I already paid.”

His voice sounded like a duck being strangled, filled with guilt.

“I mean the one on your face.”

Amber’s expression was indifferent, her cold gaze identical to her father’s.

Hakon trembled with anger, his fists clenched with cracking sounds.

But after glancing at the burly man by the kitchen door, who was now casually trimming his nails with the boning knife, he ultimately backed down.

He resentfully took out two copper coins from his pocket and slammed them onto the counter.

Then he rushed out of the tavern without looking back.

Sitting nearby, Lance watched Hakon’s figure disappear into the night, a faint cold glint flashing in his eyes.

“You alright?”

Amber turned around, the coldness on her face instantly melting as she looked at Lance with concern.

Lance withdrew his gaze and gave her a bright smile, revealing a row of white teeth.

“I’m fine. Just a drunk.”

He noticed that the burly man leaning on the doorframe silently put away his knife and returned to the kitchen once things had settled.

A true master who hid his merits.

Amber pulled over a high stool and sat directly across from Lance, resting her chin in her hands as she eagerly began sharing the gossip she had heard that day.

This was her unique way of relieving stress.

“Hey, hey, did you know? I heard Aunt Movenna from the potion shop might be in love recently!”

“Someone saw her pulling and tugging with an Adventurer uncle in the back alley, ahhh…”

Lance cut his steak while nodding along.

Normally, after finishing his meal, he would chat with Amber for a while longer and enjoy this rare moment of leisure.

But today—

Lance was clearly eating faster than usual.

As soon as he stuffed the last piece of beef into his mouth, he quickly wiped his lips and placed the meal money on the table.

“Amber, I suddenly remembered I have something urgent at home.”

Lance stood up and said apologetically.

“Let’s not chat today. I’ll come back tomorrow to hear the rest.”

After speaking, he quickly walked out of the tavern without waiting for Amber to respond.

Amber stared at his hurriedly departing figure, her face filled with disappointment, the half-told gossip stuck in her throat.

A passing waitress saw her young boss like this, then looked in the direction Lance had disappeared.

She couldn’t help but mutter softly:

“Scumbag.”

……

In the shadowy alley behind the tavern, the air was filled with a nauseating stench of urine.

Hakon hummed an unknown tune, swaying as he leaned against the wall, relieving the pressure in his bladder without restraint.

The cold night wind did not sober him—instead, it fueled the anger in his heart.

Being publicly humiliated by Amber in the tavern and losing money made him angrier the more he thought about it.

He had no intention of going home. Instead, he planned to head to the brothel at the edge of town to vent his frustration.

After a shiver, Hakon lifted his pants in satisfaction.

However—

At the moment he had just fastened his belt, the light above him suddenly dimmed.

A coarse, moldy sack descended from above like a hunting net, covering his head without warning.

“Who!”

After all, he was an Adventurer who lived by the blade. Even drunk, his body’s instincts remained.

Hakon roared and instinctively reached toward his waist with his right hand, trying to draw the short dagger he carried.

As long as he had a weapon in hand, he was confident he could stab this reckless attacker through.

But he had clearly underestimated his opponent.

The moment his fingers touched the cold hilt—

A sharp pain exploded in his abdomen.

“Ugh!”

Lance did not hold back at all with this punch.

He used the force application technique of thrusting from Castro Swordsmanship, twisting his entire body’s strength into a single force and channeling it through his fist, instantly penetrating Hakon’s fragile abdominal muscles.

Hakon felt as if his intestines were about to be crushed. His smooth motion of drawing the blade instantly froze, and his entire body bent like a cooked shrimp.

Lance’s eyes were cold, his movements swift as lightning.

Taking advantage of the moment of stiffness, he grabbed Hakon’s wrist, twisted the joint in reverse, and the short dagger fell into his hand.

Immediately after—

Lance drove forward sharply.

This was not a simple collision, but an elbow strike derived from shield-bashing techniques.

The tremendous impact slammed Hakon hard against the rough stone wall with a dull thud.

The dagger in Lance’s hand spun deftly in his palm, shifting from a reverse grip to a forward grip. The hilt, carrying a whistling force, smashed heavily into the carotid artery at the back of Hakon’s neck.

“Urgh…”

Hakon’s eyes rolled back. He didn’t even have time to beg for mercy before collapsing like a pile of mud, sliding down along the wall.

“Plop.”

His face landed squarely into the warm puddle he had just created.

【The opponent you defeated has a certain level of social notoriety in the area. You have unlocked the Codex function】

Watching this somewhat disgusting scene, Lance stepped back in distaste, even shaking his clothes as if to rid himself of nonexistent dust.

Goosebumps rose on his skin.

If it had been a few months ago, when he had just transmigrated, facing the provocation of such a seasoned thug, weak and powerless as he was, he might truly have had no choice but to swallow his anger and even force a smile.

But now, things were different.

He had swung swords and drawn bows day and night, building these eight-pack abs and calloused hands—not to be a coward hiding his head.

Back in the tavern, he had held back only to avoid implicating Amber.

If there was a grudge, it had to be settled.

Now, only heaven and earth bore witness.

Only after venting this resentment did his mind feel at ease.

However, Lance quickly recalled that at the moment he had knocked down Hakon, a special notification had appeared in his vision.

Codex?