"Chief, something's happened!"

A young aboriginal man, half-bare on his upper body and wearing a deerskin robe and a buffalo horn on his waist, hurriedly rushed in without a firearm, carrying instead a spruce short bow.

"What happened?"

Seeing the tribesman rushing in panic, the chief stood up with a serious expression, disregarding the guests present.

"You... you better come and see for yourself!"

Glancing at the guests in the longhouse, the young man found it difficult to speak; the situation was truly bizarre.

"Apologies, guests! I have some matters to attend to. We'll continue our discussion when I return."

Saying this, Apsuova quickly followed the young man who brought the news out of the longhouse, with the mountain-like strong Brown Bear Warrior named Uwakaza following closely.

Although Aiven and his companions could not understand the indigenous language, the actions of the people made it clear that something unexpected had happened.

"Superintendent? Perhaps we should go and take a look as well?"

Nekado, who had long dealt with this tribe, actually understood part of the Yucatan language. The term "hunting party" immediately sent a chill down his spine.

The fur trade does not require seizing land, making it one of the rare businesses where colonizers and the indigenous can coexist peacefully.

A significant portion of his fur business depended on them, so if there was a problem with the tribe's hunting party, even partially, it would inevitably affect the fur supply, impacting his performance and the company's profits!

Hearing Aiven's suggestion, Nekado immediately led Aiven and the others out without hesitation.

Thud... thud...

They hurriedly made their way, following Nekado past people still engaged in trade, until they reached the camp's entrance.

They saw the returning hunting party, or rather, the "hunting party" of only two returning men.

The familiar scent of blood filled the air.

Aiven and Milan exchanged a look, simultaneously sensing the unusual nature of the situation.

"How did they return? When did they come back?"

The tribal chief, Apsuova, stared at the two tribesmen lying on the ground, his face clouded, and quietly asked the half-naked young man beside him.

"Just now, both of them walked back on their own. Everyone on watch with me today saw them.

After the incident, I didn't waste any time in notifying you.

From the moment they returned to collapsing at the entrance, no one touched them."

The young man, responsible for the day's watch, was the first to discover the situation and knew little more than anyone else, quickly recounting everything he knew in a few words.

Moving closer, Aiven carefully observed the two young aboriginal men who had collapsed on the ground, or rather, the two lifeless... bodies.

There was nothing else notable, but such a perplexing manner of death was something Aiven had never seen before.

Their faces were extremely pale, yet bore a satisfied smile as if offering tribute to a deity.

Still wearing their blood-soaked animal skin pants around their waists, their upper body clothing, along with all skin below the neck, had vanished!

It could be confirmed that the two had indeed walked back by themselves, as evidenced by the faint traces of blood and footprints visible from the woods.

But before they returned to the camp, it seemed their blood had almost completely drained...

What had kept them going until they reached here?

"Is there something pressed beneath their bodies?"

Just as one of the bystanding tribesmen was about to step forward, the lean and agile chief quickly pulled him back.

"Don't touch!"

The chief then personally fetched a long stick and cautiously prodded the collapsed bodies.

Sss....

Sss....

"It's their own skin?!"

Among the collective gasp, Aiven also saw the bodies turn over, revealing what was pressed beneath them.

It was the skin from their own bodies, bloodstained, with pale yellow fat and connective tissue, causing discomfort among those familiar with such scenes, including Aiven.

To most people, this scene would be exceedingly horrific.

However, in the eyes of an experienced hunter, it was decipherable, indicative of a skillful skinning technique mastered through years of practice on hundreds of animals.

From observing their uncanny ability to walk back by themselves, experienced hunters here could not entirely rule out... the two deceased individuals themselves!

"There's something else!"

The chief used a stick to uncover the skin, revealing another thing wrapped within.

Though Aiven and his companions, new to the New Continent, might not recognize it, the people here, including Nekado, were extremely familiar with it.

Because it was two beaver pelts!

How could they possibly not recognize it?

Because beaver fur is the most important item in the fur trade of the New Continent.

In the Old Continent Countries, there's even a saying: "Owning a beaver fur product is a testament to a man's or woman's status in high society!"

Even multiple royal families once issued decrees that beaver fur could only be used exclusively by the royal family.

Even now, in many countries, the height of a beaver fur hat is regarded as a symbol of social status.

Moreover, the Old Continent countries do not possess umbrellas.

A felt hat made of waterproof beaver fur that resists deformation is not only a symbol of status but can also serve as rain gear.

Social trends have gradually formed, and now every middle-class and above elite takes pride in owning a beaver fur product.

And if you look closely, you'll find those two beaver furs wrapped in human skin are completely identical on the outside, without even a trace of bloodstain, truly perfect and flawless premium furs!

Even surrounded by such a terrifying scene.

Among the aboriginals who deal with fur all day, someone couldn't help but exclaim:

"Ah! Such beautiful fur, it's the first time I've seen something so magnificent. Truly beautiful, unbelievably beautiful!"

"Indeed, I've been processing beaver fur for 20 years, but never of this quality. Have some treasures come to our hunting grounds?"

"..."

Even the director, witnessing all this, suppressed his fear of the bloody scene, stepped forward slightly, his eyes shining, muttering: "If such beaver fur could be made into a magnificent cloak to present to Her Majesty the Queen, it wouldn't be just a dream to return to the homeland and take up a high position in the company."

Without noticing the reactions of those around, Milan and Aiven, the two wizards, had their attention entirely focused on those two "perfect" beaver furs.

"Aiven, the tribal chief's treatment is correct.

The two beaver furs carry a dreadful curse! If touched directly by hand, something bad is sure to happen.

Perhaps the bizarre deaths of these two aboriginals stem from this."

Through the Mind Connection, Milan quietly expressed his opinions to Aiven.

Seeing through the fog to the truth is Milan's specialty, and the moment he saw those two beaver furs, his Spiritual Detection and Psychic Warning had given him very clear signals.

Moreover, he felt that the seemingly common, even rather lean tribal chief might not be an ordinary person either.

This way of dealing with "strange" matters is not something merely cautious can explain, at least should be someone who has activated Spiritual Vision or possesses similar capabilities at an apprentice level!

"Human skin and beaver fur? Walking dead? Is this someone's unknown warning?"

After a preliminary inspection of the bodies of the two deceased, Apsuova's face turned grim, already guessing that there's a problem in the hunting ground that produces such important materials as beaver fur.

Especially this bizarre change... It seems strangely familiar.

Having lived on this land for many years, Apsuova vaguely recalled a sinister legend circulating among the Atrean Hunters, and moreover...

"Today five people went to that hunting ground, now two are here, where are the other three?

Perhaps... they may not be dead yet.

Uwakaza, prepare, you're coming with me to Cold Water River Bay."

The lean chief instructed the "Brown Bear Warrior" by his side and then turned to Nekado, who had unexpectedly approached:

"Sorry, my friends, can't entertain you right now. As you can see, I need to ascertain the safety of my fellow tribesmen.

I might have some idea of the root of the problem, we'll handle the rest, and it shouldn't affect our subsequent trading."

But before he finished speaking.

The seemingly pampered Nekado unexpectedly insisted firmly:

"For the sake of our friendship, I will go with you! The guard team I brought is equipped with the most advanced weapons, which should be able to help."

"Oh?"

Aiven's eyes narrowed slightly, keenly noticing the abnormal state of the director, since when did this civilian administrative personnel have such courage? Especially when facing such eerie occurrences.

But he did not oppose.

Because from these two "beaver furs," Aiven faintly sensed a kind of spectral scent.

Although there might be certain dangers, his spiritual sense did not have too strong of a warning, at least not as intense as his reaction upon hearing those terrifying legends at the "Fox, Badger, and Honey Tavern."

If one runs away from eerie events, developing his Spirit Communication Potion and wizard advancement would truly be a distant dream.

Moreover, with the tribal chief as the local figurehead here, it's far better than him venturing inland to seek out those eerie entities.

After hearing the director's voluntary gesture, Apsuova hesitated briefly and agreed, the more reinforcements the better.

He only instructed his tribesmen:

"Until we come back, no one is allowed to touch them."

Then he carried a brightly colored Atrean Hand Drum and held a white oak staff, leading the way out of the tribe.

Behind the chief.

The "Brown Bear Warrior" Uwakaza, the director Nekado, three of Aiven's team, five aboriginals, followed by the Phaletis Guard Team in sequence.

The time was 4:15 p.m. New Continent time...

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