Hans Port, Octopus Tavern.
By now, the sky had already darkened.
Other places had become silent, leaving only the sound of the waves.
But the Octopus Tavern was different.
The bright lights made the huge red wooden octopus on the sign even more conspicuous, and the noise was even more eye-catching.
Aside from certain special holidays, there is no curfew in Hans Port.
However, most people maintain a routine of working from sunrise to sunset.
Commoners working to make a living wouldn’t come here.
A mask that looked down like a hockey face mask and a broad-bladed short axe held high came into the Hunter’s view.
The figure exclaimed in shock, opening his mouth to shout, but before the words could fully escape, the axe had already swung down.