331 Preparations: MERCY

Goddamn Elves! 

He had once again died thanks to those human-hating pieces of garbage. Well, it was more that they considered humans like dumb animals or something. 

That one priestess's beautiful face twisted as a sadistic smile was still vivid in his mind. 

After a well-deserved IRL nap, he finally respawned in Sprigfield. He instantly became the focus of the attention. 

Somehow, his sleep-deprived self had figured that wearing a plague-doctor-looking outfit would make him less suspicious. Where did he even get that? The merchants, maybe? 

He could already hear various comments: 

"Look at that weirdo!" 

"Pfft— Is he shaking? LOL!"

"Being so weak? Eh, couldn't be me." 

Weak? He was shaking with fury! He utterly disregarded them, assessing his losses. He had dropped a bunch of crafting materials on death. Only about 100 gold? Perfect!