Slowly walking back to camp with Hazel, I carry my wet coat. My tentacles haul the basket of clothes, grumbling noisily through the bond.

  As I pass through the camp, I feel eyes boring into my side. Some hunters and porters subtly inch away from me and Hazel.

  “See!” Hazel says, waving her hands around. “There’s definitely something about the way people are staring.”

  “Uh-huh,” I mumble, letting my eyes wander.

  Spotting Mark and a couple of hunters, I slowly narrow my eyes. Through the bond, a few tentacles pause mid-grumble, some even turning their tips toward what I’m looking at.

  From here, I catch sight of several baskets filled with what seem to be butchered parts of the corpse tree.

  Frowning, I raise an eyebrow.

  …So, there was nothing on the corpse they found, but they seem pretty willing to just take the tree apart.

  With my teeth not fully grown back yet, I grind my lips together.

  I know a lot goes unnoticed in dungeons, but they should at least put in some effort.

  Frowning harder, I grind my lips together more firmly.

  …It also doesn’t help how casually they’re all acting—

  “Beatrice?” Hazel suddenly chimes up. “Beatrice!”

  Jerking out of my thoughts, I quickly turn to her. “Yes?”

  “You noticed it too, right?” Hazel asks. “The group is slowly getting smaller.”

  “There’s been another one?” I ask, almost tripping over my feet.

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  She quickly nods.

  “Yeah,” Hazel sighs before pointing at a random group of Essevians. “Before I hung out with you guys, I was with that group.”

  She brings a finger to her mouth, chewing on it. “We weren’t close, but I kept noticing how the group was shrinking.”

  Slowly turning back to me, Hazel frowns. “You noticed too, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say, glancing off to the side. “The group has been growing smaller.”

  To be honest, I didn’t bother getting to know anyone here. Unless I have to, it’s best to avoid remembering names.

  Flicking my eyes toward Hazel, I sigh softly.

  …I can’t do the same with her, considering how often she hangs around Mary. It’d be weird to just call her ‘the girl’ every time.

  As we continue walking and Hazel chatters on, I let out a small hum.

  Well, at least since she’s an Essevian, there should be less worry about losing her… I guess…

  “Hazel!” Mary suddenly calls out as we approach her. “There you are! You rascal, I’ve been looking for you.”

  Before Hazel can say anything, the older woman pulls her into a hug.

  'Crack!'

  Internally wincing, I feel my own tentacles release a similar burst of sympathy as I watch Hazel being crushed within Mary’s grip.

  After a moment of hugging—more like Hazel trying to hold on—Mary finally lets go and begins fussing over the girl’s hands.

  “How did this happen?” Mary asks, inspecting Hazel’s hands. “This looks really bad.”

  Hazel awkwardly ducks her head. “That was my fault. I was clumsy.”

  Watching the two of them interact, letting out small, uncontaminated barks of laughter, I feel a weird pang in my chest begin to spread.

  A memory from years ago slowly tugs itself free from my grasp and surfaces to the forefront.

  My teammates laugh, many of them walking ahead of me as they continue to chatter on.

  Quickly blinking, I wipe away some of the moisture gathering in my eyes.

  They sure look happy.

  Turning away from them, I let my gaze drift back to where Mark and the other hunters are.

  I watch as two of the hunters walk toward a random Essevian and start up some kind of conversation.

  After a moment, the Essevian nods, then gathers their tools and containers like they’re getting ready to harvest and dismantle some monster corpses.

  Raising an eyebrow, I watch as the Essevian and the two hunters head off.

  …It’s possible they’re just going out to get some last-minute dismantling done. Wouldn’t be the first time a group rushed to fill their quota before a mission ended.

  Narrowing my eyes, I slowly grind my lips together.

  …Now that I think about it, I’m surprised we haven’t tried to take on any northwory or “Boss”-level monsters. It’s mostly been “easy” ones—stuff a few hunters could pick off without much trouble.

  Casting a quick glance back at Mary and Hazel, I sigh and shake my head.

  …I’m not needed here.

  Without a word, I turn around and start following after the two hunters.