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  Jack walked with a wide smile. He moved in a strange dance, as if he were part of a television musical. He went from tree to tree, tapping his chest and legs like a drum. Sometimes he struck dramatic poses and stared into the distance as if something were filming him.

  Even though it was only his imagination…

  The thick forest was his only audience as he hummed the rhythm of his celebration song. His celebration might have been a little early—after all, he hadn’t completed the mission yet. But that didn’t matter to him.

  ‘It’s never a bad time to celebrate.’

  He had two very good reasons to do so, and that was enough.

  His smile grew wider, and with his natural musical talent, he sang like a morning songbird.

  “I wanna party~!”

  He sang as if it were a duet, though he was only singing with himself as his own backup. He even turned to the empty air as if answering himself while continuing the song energetically.

  A soft laugh escaped him as he stopped his victory tune. He felt happy—euphoric, even. His laughter was pure, like someone telling endless jokes and laughing freely at all of them.

  His interface didn’t just show that he had gained experience—it also showed his mission progress.

  “Who should I scare next?” Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “There aren’t many children in the village, so my next targets should be adults. But not everyone scares easily. Some of them seem afraid of nothing.”

  He glanced at his interface again. There wasn’t much information. It didn’t explain how Fear or Lucidity worked—if either of them functioned like “mana” in games where you chose the role of a mage.

  “They must be useful for something. Maybe they’re just not unlocked yet.”

  When Jack reached the hill, he looked carefully at the distant buildings that formed the beloved village where he lived. It was paradoxical—Jack appreciated the place even though he loathed and despised it with all his being because of the pumpkins. Even so, he appreciated it in his own way.

  He looked fondly at the church in the far north of the village. Beside it stood the convent where priests and nuns rested. In front of the church was a large circular plaza paved with cobblestones, marking the end of the main street. In the center stood a beautiful stone fountain. To the right of the fountain, slightly lower to the east, was the only bar, restaurant, and inn in town—The Golden Pumpkin Tavern—the place where Jack sold his pumpkins and ate his daily lunches.

  On the same block stood the medical office, though it looked more like a herbalist’s shop. It had been founded by the explorer Greenwood. After that came the sheriff’s office, led by an old city guard who had moved to the village decades ago with his family.

  “Wow! Even at night, the homes and businesses on the west side look beautiful!”

  Across from those buildings, on the west side of the street, stood two large and glamorous shops filled with expensive decorations that gave them a prestigious, high-class appearance—far beyond the village’s apparent economy. They were single-story buildings with elegant awnings and fine wooden signs painted with refined lettering.

  The first shop sold high-quality fabrics imported from outside. It also tailored custom-made clothing and displayed finished garments behind glass windows. The second shop was different—it functioned as a furniture and tool store, the only place in town that crafted furniture.

  Next to it were several carriages with horses prepared to depart in the morning to bring more goods and sell the village’s products—including its famous pumpkin beer.

  All of those businesses belonged to the Charnock family.

  Around them were several houses. On the east side stood the humbler homes. On the west side, more prestigious houses built from marble or brick rather than wood.

  Multiple oil streetlamps and lanterns illuminated the area. Some were refined, with golden or silver metal designs and expensive glass. Others were simple and modest, with slightly opaque glass.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  All of them carried a signature—an “O.”

  The same “O” engraved on Jack’s glass cup.

  Behind the two grand shops, about a kilometer uphill, stood a large elegant mansion with a commanding presence overlooking the rest of the village. It belonged to one of the founding families of Pumpkin Village—the Charnocks, along with the Dawnsons.

  And though Jack was not originally from this place, his family—the O’lanterns—had brought the lanterns and candles. That was how he obtained the land to the northwest, along with his farmland.

  Jack smiled and continued toward home.

  “Tomorrow I need to find more people to scare. But where can I find them? Should I hide in an alley and wait for someone to pass by?”

  He shook his head.

  “No, that would take too long. Maybe no one would pass at all.”

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  The next morning, Jack woke with the first rays of sunlight. Using water from the well behind his house, he took a quick, refreshing bath, washing away the smell with the only bar of soap he owned.

  The day before, he had harvested several pumpkins. Some were meant for the Charnock merchants and for Darlene, the tavern keeper. Today’s batch would go especially to Darlene.

  He filled his cart to the brim with pumpkins. All of them bright orange and beautiful—round, oval, some even shaped like giant pears—yet among the highest quality crops in the country.

  Though Jack despised them, he performed quality checks on every harvest. He would cut open a small pumpkin to inspect its color and smell it to ensure everything was perfect. He always checked the stems for disease or pests.

  Every morning was the same—inspection and generous watering.

  With his routine complete, Jack set off. He pulled the cart by hand; he had no horse or donkey to help him. It took him about twenty minutes of walking with several kilos of pumpkins to reach the village.

  He stopped in the plaza beside the tavern and glanced briefly at the church.

  It was a large building with beautiful pillars and several niches. On some pillars stood stone angel sculptures. Two long stained-glass windows decorated the front—on the left, a nun; on the right, a priest—both facing the central doors.

  The church had a tall central spire made of pointed columns, and at its highest peak stood a great polished stone symbol: a large “Ф.”

  Shrubs and trimmed trees surrounded the building. In spring, they bloomed with colorful flowers, giving the place a hopeful and peaceful appearance.

  “I haven’t returned since that…” Jack murmured with deep melancholy.

  Even so, his gaze remained firm.

  He would never return to the church.

  As Jack approached the tavern entrance, he noticed little Tomy walking toward the convent along a narrow path between the flowers and trees surrounding the church.

  Seeing him head toward the convent, Jack smiled with curiosity.

  ‘Last night’s scare might have been misunderstood as a ghost or something like that. Maybe he’s seeking advice from a priest or a nun.’

  Jack moved through the bushes carefully, avoiding the main path so he wouldn’t be seen. Soon, he spotted Tomy standing beside a young nun.

  It was Sister Penny.

  A young nun born to one of the village families, she had abandoned her surname and family ties to dedicate herself entirely to the church. She wore long black-and-white garments that covered her body to her ankles. Though her hair was mostly covered, a great portion of her long blonde hair could still be seen flowing down her back.

  She wore simple leather shoes provided by the church. She had an innocent and cheerful aura, though her gentle features made her look timid—like a small rabbit.

  Jack moved closer through the bushes, careful not to make noise.

  He couldn’t hear the greetings, but when Tomy raised his voice in distress, Jack was finally able to understand their conversation.

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  “Sister Penny, you have to believe me! Something entered my room. I felt its claws on my skin. It touched me. It was real—very real! Look, look.” He showed his cheek. “I have splinter marks! That has to prove something! Please help me!”

  “Oh! Of course I believe you, little one,” she said gently. “But what you describe is outside reality. A child’s imagination is a powerful force—even admired by the Church. Do not fear, servant of the Lord. You are safe in His embrace. No evil can harm you while you have faith in Him.”

  Her lips trembled slightly, as if she feared the boy’s words might be true.

  “Sister Penny, I believe in God. I go to mass. But I’m scared. Very scared.”

  She sighed softly and clasped her hands.

  “Have you spoken with your parents? I’m worried about your imagi—” she corrected herself quickly, “—the scarecrow you describe.”

  Her voice trembled again.

  “Why don’t you come pray with me this morning? Surely God will calm your fears. Before Him, no evil being can escape.”

  Tomy knew she didn’t fully believe him. It would be the same if he told his brother. He didn’t want to be mocked again. He knew what he had heard. He still felt the rough wood against his face. He remembered the hot breath. The low growl.

  He didn’t want it to return and finish the job.

  “No!” Tomy shouted. “You have to help me, Sister Penny!”

  Crunch—!

  Both Tomy and the young nun froze, staring toward the bushes where the sound had come from. They swallowed hard as the tall shrubs began to shake more and more.

  Unconsciously, they stepped back.

  Suddenly, a wooden hand burst out, pushing the branches aside.

  “It’s coming for me!” Tomy screamed through tears as he turned and ran toward the convent.

  Sister Penny screamed as she stumbled and fell onto the ground.

  She covered her face and cried out, “Please, no! Oh my Lord, save your faithful servant!”

  Trembling, she peeked toward the bushes.

  But both the branch and whatever had been there were gone.

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  Jack returned to his pumpkin cart, laughing softly as he saw another experience point added.

  “What a shame. Scaring Tomy again didn’t help the mission. But scaring Sister Penny was very useful. Forgive me, Sister—it’s just a harmless prank.”

  [2/5 people scared]

  “Only three left!”

  Jack smiled and turned his gaze toward the tavern, hopeful to find his next target inside.

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