The tall barbarian slipped into a hidden spot, fished a beast-hide pouch from inside his clothes, and peered through the opening. A low chuckle escaped his lips.
Over a thousand green coins — quite the haul. Enough to cover his expenses for a year.
"Not bad for a day's work."
A voice spoke up behind him without warning, and the barbarian nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around, glaring warily at the speaker — but the instant their eyes met, his confidence wavered.
He recognized the man. It was the pouch's owner.
In all of Frost Snow City, a barbarian as scrawny as this fellow was practically a one-of-a-kind oddity.
Recognition or not, the barbarian had no intention of fessing up. He put on a fierce scowl and said, "What do you want?"
Yang Kai couldn't help but laugh. "Stealing my pouch and then acting like nothing happened — I have to say, your existence is rewriting everything I thought I knew about barbarians."
"Your pouch? What pouch?"
"The one you're tucking into your clothes right now." Yang Kai watched the man's movements with cold eyes.
"I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about." The barbarian stashed the pouch away as casually as you please, then added impatiently, "If there's nothing else, I'm leaving. Stop following me."
Yang Kai was practically flabbergasted. "What a brazen thief — you've got some nerve! Believe me or not, I'll call the Frost Snow Tribe's guard squad over to deal with you."
The burly barbarian looked at Yang Kai with contempt and sneered, "Go ahead! Call them!"
He actually seemed completely unafraid, which left Yang Kai momentarily speechless. Calling the guard squad was obviously a non-starter. Even though he was certain this guy was a thief who'd lifted his pouch, he had no real evidence. Dragging the guards in would be a waste of everyone's time.
Besides, Yang Kai didn't want to bother anyone over something like this.
He clicked his tongue. "Kid, you've picked the wrong person to mess with."
The barbarian kept sneering. "Enough talk. One more word and I'll knock you dead!" He even raised a fist the size of a small boulder toward Yang Kai, as though that alone should be terrifying.
The words had barely left his mouth when his expression changed — because Yang Kai had already shifted his stance and launched himself forward, a fist swelling rapidly toward his face.
"You're asking for it!" The barbarian roared in fury. He never imagined that this frail-looking tribesman would actually throw the first punch. Caught between shock and rage, he threw a punch of his own.
The moment the two fists collided, Yang Kai let out a soft grunt of surprise. The blow carried nowhere near the berserk force he'd expected. That intimidating physique and those menacing fists were nothing but a hollow shell.
Under the barbarian's stunned, terrified gaze, that massive body went flying backward through the air.
Mid-flight, the hulking frame suddenly twisted and reshaped itself, transforming into a petite, curvaceous figure.
Splat — she hit the ground like a dead fish. At the same moment, a single green leaf drifted down from the sky.
Yang Kai very nearly bulged his own eyes out of his head. He stood rooted to the spot, stunned for a long while before he could collect himself.
One punch turned a burly man into a young girl. That was absolutely, categorically not his fault.
While Yang Kai was still processing, the girl on the ground struggled to her feet. When she looked at him again, her eyes were filled with wariness.
Now that he got a proper look, Yang Kai saw that she was no more than sixteen or seventeen. There was also a shamanic aura about her, though he couldn't gauge the exact rank — he'd been in this world too briefly and had encountered too few shamans to make a precise judgment.
With her true form revealed, the clothes that had fit the large barbarian were now comically loose on her small frame, yet they still couldn't hide her striking figure. She was quite the package.
Having her cover blown so suddenly clearly flustered her. Her eyes darted around, and she hurried forward a few steps to scoop up the green leaf that had fallen to the ground. She placed it on top of her head, and the petite body twisted once more, reverting to that burly build.
"You're from the Drifting Tribe!" The realization flashed through Yang Kai's mind, and he called it out at once.
"W-what nonsense!" The barbarian form the girl had assumed averted its gaze and shot back stubbornly.
"Oh really?" Yang Kai smiled, looking thoroughly smug. "Me, talking nonsense?"
"What Drifting Tribe? I'm from the Cloud Creek Tribe."
"Heh heh…" Yang Kai chuckled a few times, then suddenly cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone and bellowed, "Everyone, come quick! There's a thief from the Drifting Tribe over here! Everyone —"
"Shut up!" The girl's face went pale. She reached into her clothes, pulled out the pouch, and tossed it straight at Yang Kai. "Here's your pouch. Just stop shouting."
Yang Kai caught it and tossed it in his hand, regarding the girl with an amused look. "If you're not from the Drifting Tribe, why the panic?"
The girl forced herself to stand tall. "I'm not panicking."
According to the village chief's teachings, the ancient barbarians as a whole prized a strong physique above all else — but there was one tribe that stood apart: the Drifting Tribe. They were nomads, wanderers with no fixed home, and their numbers were small. Ordinary people rarely laid eyes on one. They didn't focus on cultivating the body, so their physiques were nothing like those of other tribes.
If that were all it was, fine. The real problem was that the Drifters had sticky fingers. Every last one of them was born a thief. As a result, the tribe's reputation among the ancient barbarians was absolutely terrible.