100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids-Chapter 308- The Reluctant Charity

Three hours later, the group trudged into Millbrook village looking like a funeral procession.

Tikon led the way, his face twisted in an expression somewhere between constipation and rage. Behind him, the others carried sacks—heavy sacks filled with bread they’d purchased from a traveling merchant at triple the normal price.

Moldy bread, as it turned out. The merchant had seen them coming a mile away.

"I can’t believe we’re doing this," the shorter thug muttered, adjusting the sack on his shoulder. "We’re hunters. We kill things. We don’t... we don’t ’help’ people."

"We also don’t usually get scammed by the universe itself," his brother replied bitterly. "So here we are."

The village square was mostly empty—just a few scattered residents going about their morning routines. Simple folk. Farmers, craftsmen, the kinds of people who’d never left their hometown and probably never would.

They looked up as the group of armed strangers entered, immediately suspicious.

"Right," Tikon said, dropping his sack on the ground with a heavy ’thud’. "Let’s get this over with. Spread out. Start... distributing."

"Distributing what?" the young archer asked.

"The bread, you idiot! What else?!"

"But sir, this bread is—"

"I KNOW WHAT CONDITION THE BREAD IS IN!" Tikon’s voice cracked. Several villagers flinched. "Just... just give it away. Smile. Pretend we’re good people."

The old mage chuckled darkly. "This is the most undignified thing I’ve done in sixty years."

"Welcome to my life," Gareth muttered.

They began unpacking the sacks, arranging the bread loaves on makeshift tables. The bread looked... questionable. Green spots bloomed on several loaves. Others were hard as rocks. A few had mysterious fuzzy growths that might have been new life forms.

The heavyset man held up one loaf, squinting at it. "Is this bread or a biology experiment?"

"Does it matter?" Tikon hissed. "Just put it out!"

Slowly, cautiously, villagers began approaching.

An elderly woman shuffled over first, eyeing the bread suspiciously. "What’s this about?"

Tikon forced the widest, fakest smile of his life. "Good morning, ma’am! We’re... uh... charitable hunters! Here to help the community!" Each word felt like pulling teeth.

"Charitable hunters?" The woman’s wrinkled face scrunched up in confusion. "Never heard of such a thing."

"Well, now you have!" Tikon grabbed a loaf—carefully avoiding the green spots—and thrust it toward her. "Please, take this! Free of charge!"

The woman took the bread, turning it over in her gnarled hands. "This is moldy."

"IT’S RUSTIC!" Tikon’s eye twitched violently. "Traditional! Aged to perfection!"

"It smells like feet."

"THAT’S THE CHARM!"

Gareth stepped in smoothly, his diplomatic smile firmly in place. "What my colleague means, dear lady, is that we’re here to support the village during these trying times. The Tower’s appearance has disrupted trade routes, yes? Consider this our small contribution to community welfare."

The old woman squinted at him, then at the bread, then shrugged. "Free is free, I suppose." She tucked the loaf under her arm and shuffled away.

"One down," the old mage muttered. "Only the entire village to go."

More villagers trickled over, drawn by curiosity and the promise of free food.

A young mother with two children approached hesitantly. "Is this... safe to eat?"

"Absolutely!" The old woman with the throat scar said through gritted teeth. She grabbed three loaves—the least moldy ones she could find—and practically threw them at the family. "For you and your children! Enjoy!"

Her smile looked like she was about to commit murder.

The mother accepted the bread with obvious confusion but nodded politely. "Thank you...?"

"YOU’RE WELCOME!" the scarred woman barked, making the children jump.

As the family hurried away, she turned to Tikon, her voice dropping to a furious whisper. "I’ve killed men for less than this humiliation."

"Get in line," Tikon muttered.

The distribution continued.

Each loaf given away felt like a piece of their souls dying.

The thugs stood side by side, mechanically handing out bread with thousand-yard stares. Tears—actual tears—leaked from the shorter one’s eyes.

"We paid thirty silver for this," he whispered. "Thirty silver. For moldy bread. That we’re giving away. For free."

"I know, brother."

"I could have bought a decent sword with that money."

"I know."

"Or a week with that blonde whore at the tavern."

"I ’know’."

A middle-aged farmer approached, scratching his beard. "What’s the catch?"

"No catch!" Tikon’s smile was now just bared teeth. "Just take the bread!"

"Nothing’s free in this world, friend."

"THIS IS!" Tikon shoved two loaves into the farmer’s arms. "THIS IS FREE! TAKE IT AND GO!"

The farmer backed away slowly, clutching the bread like it might explode. "Alright, alright! No need to shout!"

The young archer sat on the ground, head in his hands. "This is worse than the time I got mauled by that wolf. At least that made sense. This... this is just cruel."

The heavyset man patted his shoulder. "There, there. Maybe there’s treasure in the Tower. Really good treasure. Like... golden treasure."

"It better be made of ’diamond’," the archer muttered.

An hour passed.

Then two.

The sacks slowly emptied. Villagers came and went, each one confused but ultimately accepting the free (albeit questionable) bread. Some thanked them. Others just stared suspiciously and left.

Tikon stood in the middle of the square, surrounded by empty sacks, his arms crossed over his chest. His right eye twitched rhythmically.

’I’m going to kill someone,’ he thought. ’If there’s nothing in that Tower—if this was all for nothing—I’m going to kill everyone involved. Starting with that merchant who sold us moldy bread. Then the villagers. Then myself.’

Finally, ’finally’, the last loaf was given away.

The group stood in silence, staring at the empty tables.

"Is it done?" the old mage asked weakly.

"I think so," Gareth replied.

They looked at each other. A silent understanding passed between them.

Without a word, all twelve of them turned as one and walked—quickly—out of the village square, heading back toward the Tower.

Behind them, villagers whispered among themselves as their confusion slowly turned into realization of what they had been told a few minutes ago by their Lord.

"People really came here."

"I told you, Lord was right, sending merchant to purchase fresh floor and on way guarenteeing him that some hunters will purchase his old breads... for him to have money for flour..."

"Indeed, as promised, should we go to dig the trench he ordered us for 1 copper coins a day?"

"Yes, Let’s go."

The group practically ran back to the Tower, desperate to confirm that their humiliation had been worth something.

Tikon reached the massive black doors first, breathing hard. He slapped his palm against the surface.

’WHOOOM.’

Golden text appeared instantly.

[WELCOME, TIKON]

[CURRENT CREDITS: 127]

[MINIMUM REQUIRED: 100]

[ACCESS GRANTED]

[ENTRY PERMITTED FOR PARTY OF 12]

For a moment, Tikon just stared.

Then he laughed—a slightly unhinged sound. "It worked! IT ACTUALLY WORKED!"

The others rushed forward, checking their own status. Similar messages appeared for each of them. Credits earned. Access granted.

"I can’t believe that shit actually counted," one of the thugs said, his voice filled with disbelief and relief.

"Who cares how it counted!" The young archer was grinning now. "We’re getting in!"

The old mage stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Fascinating. The Tower’s system recognized charity work as valid contribution. The magical framework must be—"

"NOBODY CARES!" Tikon shouted. "We’re going in! We’re getting our treasure! And we’re making back every copper we spent on that gods-damned moldy bread!"