Monster Hunt: Notes from a Hunter

Gordon discovered that he was still not suitable for telling lies.

He had no choice but to drag his furious wife back to the house and tell him in full what he had been thinking about the past few days and what the village chief had said to him.

Hayata gradually calmed down.

She knew that with Gordon's somewhat overly strong sense of responsibility, he would not be able to say something like "If the sky falls, everyone will support it together" without relying on the guidance of his elders.

It can also be seen that Gordon is not hiding anything this time. The anger in Hayata's heart gradually extinguishes, and the worry resurfaces again.

I am worried that my husband will be overwhelmed by his sense of responsibility, and I am also worried that the [Dragon Strike] sword will take advantage of the opportunity.

It wasn't that she was overly worried.

When people's will becomes weak due to various negative emotions, their hearts will be more easily eroded.

Not to mention the [Dragon Strike] sword made of forbidden materials, even armors such as the Tyrannosaurus suit that can affect the mind must be used with caution.

Gordon himself admitted that when he broke the lock and took out the sword from the box, he was at his most shaken and vulnerable.

If the old village chief hadn't stopped him and pulled out the sword rashly, it would have been severely corroded and even lost control.

At the same time, Hayata also realized that there was no point in "locking" the sword.

If Gordon really wanted to take out the sword, what lock or box could stop him?

Noticing Hayata's hesitant worry, Gordon grinned and put the [Dragon Strike] sword on the weapon rack, together with his other swords.

"Don't worry, I've figured it out and won't mess around again." Gordon hugged her, "The village chief is right, no one can bear the weight of the entire civilization.

Even if I am a 'brave', I am just the most powerful person in the hunter group.

I will no longer have the arrogant and foolish thought that "I must pick up that sword for the sake of all mankind."

The only purpose of that sword is to protect you in battle, just like any other sword.

Of course I can do this. "

Hayata used both hands to push him away, "We no longer need to be protected, even Feng Ying.

All you have to do is protect yourself. "

With the heaviest burden off his mind, Gordon felt much lighter.

He suddenly felt very sleepy after not sleeping well for many days. He lay on the bed, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

It seemed like only a minute had passed.

Drowsily, he felt two small hands pressing randomly on his face. He opened his eyelids and saw that it was indeed Little Muti who was causing trouble.

He grabbed her and rubbed his chin on her face. The rough sandpaper-like stubble made the little guy's tender cheeks turn red.

Amidst the screams, Gordon climbed out of bed refreshed, put his daughter on his shoulders, and walked out of the bedroom.

I glanced at the clock on the wall in the living room and saw that it was already afternoon.

"Hey, we slept quite a long time this time."

Sitting cross-legged in front of the balcony like a sculpture, Hayata opened his eyes while performing knife meditation.

"There is food on the table. Eat it by yourself." After saying this, she closed her eyes again.

Gordon grinned, knowing that Hayata's anger must have passed, but it had not completely subsided.

It's better not to tease her at this time.

Filling his stomach quickly with the food on the table that was neither delicious nor unpalatable, but at least the portions were substantial, Gordon wiped his mouth and stood up.

Putting his daughter on his shoulder like a lucky wood rabbit, Gordon raised his voice and shouted, "I'm going to the pork chop master's place to check on the situation!"

Then I was ready to go out with my daughter.

But he forgot that the door was broken, subconsciously pulled the handle, and the door that was barely leaning against the wall was pulled down by him.

Hayata's eyes twitched.

Gordon, who was holding the door, laughed dryly, went out sideways, and carefully stuck the door panel back into the door frame.

He slipped away at a trot.

Hayata sighed, calmed down, and continued practicing.

Gordon, who was in a good mood, did not look sullen and walk in a hurry like he did a few days ago. Instead, he walked around on the street with little Muti in his arms, as if he were shopping.

Except that his body shape looks a bit scary, he is no different from other young fathers.

It took two or three hours. By the time he arrived at the master's studio, it was already dark.

Little Muti, who was holding the back of his father's head and sitting on the back of Gordon's neck, was very excited.

No one has taken her out to play for several days.

Gordon reached out and knocked on the door. Soon, the master's voice came from inside the door, "Please come in, cough cough cough."

Gordon opened the door, said hello, and was about to step in when he suddenly remembered something and stopped abruptly.

Finally, he successfully avoided the fate of his daughter's head hitting the door frame again, causing a big bump.

"As expected of me."

Gordon chuckled, put his daughter under his arm, and walked into the studio with his head down.

"Master, Pork Chop, I've brought you some condolence gifts." He raised the food he bought on the way, "I guess you haven't had dinner yet?"

"Meow?" The pork chop poked its head out from inside an alchemy cauldron and fiddled with something, "What do you have, meow?"

"Bread, cheese, sausage, bacon, what else?" Gordon shrugged, "I also saw dried fish, but it didn't taste as good as fish roe, so I didn't buy it."

Pork Chop shook off the black dust all over his body, ran over and picked up a sausage, put it in his mouth, patted Muti's butt with his paw, and turned back to his work.

The master came over with a smile, holding the old umbrella, took the little Muti from Gordon, teased him for a while and asked: "Have you figured it out?"

Gordon scratched his neck and replied "Yeah".

"It's good to be responsible, ahem. But don't put too much pressure on yourself." After a simple reminder, the master didn't waste any more words on this topic.

"Ahem, you're here to learn about the progress here, right? It's a pity that there hasn't been any breakthrough yet."

Knowing that the master would cough easily if he talked too much, Pig Chop temporarily put down the work and food at hand and explained on his behalf:

"The alchemists are working hard to refine high-density dragon-killing carbon. Currently, there is enough material, and it won't take too long to mix a batch of super-powerful shells.

The teacher said there was no progress, referring to the research on ancient slime mold.

The new species of ancient slime mold samples brought by the alcohol team belong to a different species from the ones we obtained in the New World, but there is no obvious difference in the explosion effect.

We asked the scholars in this field of the Scribe Team to help with hybridization and came up with several new varieties, but none of them can be considered dominant.

Most of them have even lost their ability to explode. The only one that can be barely considered successful has improved a lot in terms of stability, but the price is that the power has been significantly reduced."

Gordon has a clear self-awareness. In these aspects, it is a compliment to say that he has only a limited understanding.

He came to "understand the progress" or something, but in fact he just came to visit his master and Pork Chop.

But for the sake of face, he also casually made some suggestions, "It would be better to be more stable. Can it replace gunpowder? Or as a charge for crossbow bullets or something."

Pork Chop shook his head and made a series of explanations.

For example, it is not as reliable as conventional gunpowder, slime mold has fluidity that affects trajectory, the maintenance cost is too high, and it must be loaded and used on the spot.

"Put it in a bottle to replace the blasting bottle used by the hunting bow?" Gordon said so and prepared to change the subject.

Pig Chop also replied subconsciously, "It's the same old problem, meow. Slime is not liquid, and it's hard to apply it smoothly on the tip of the arrow even if it's in a bottle.

We can't just assign someone to follow the bow hunter and brush the slime on the arrow with a brush."

Listening to the discussion between the two, the master suddenly paused, and his squinting eyes opened a little, "Hmm? That's a good idea, ahem.

This method can't be used for bow hunting, but maybe it can be used on crossbows."