The Squalid Farm and a New Clue

The village’s livestock farm was likely the only place children actively avoided. A constant, nauseating stench permeated the air, a vile concoction of animal body odor and feces so potent it could easily make one regurgitate yesterday’s meal.

However, the day’s rain offered a slight reprieve, considerably lessening the usual intensity of the odor. At the very least, as the trio approached the farm, they weren’t assailed by a stench so overpowering that it stole their breath.

Despite these many issues, the livestock farm remained an indispensable part of the village. It was here that nearly all the villagers’ animals were raised, and it also functioned as the sole slaughterhouse where livestock were butchered, processed, and then delivered to each household. The village had adopted this centralized farming method purely out of necessity, as the forest’s wild beasts frequently preyed on villagers’ livestock. This concentrated approach effectively prevented such losses, yet it was not without its detractors. Villagers often grumbled, convinced they received significantly less meat than their due, and many harbored suspicions that those managing the farm were enriching themselves.

However, none of these concerns weighed on South Creek or Fanny. Had they not been seeking the Village Chief today, they would never have willingly set foot in this place. South Creek, in particular, found the mere proximity to the farm and its dreadful stench enough to induce physical discomfort.

Stepping inside, sturdy fences distinctly sectioned off the various areas. The first sight that greeted them was several plump, grunting pigs, their bodies thick with fat, wriggling as they plunged their snouts into the feed trough, ravenously licking up the food.

“How utterly disgusting…” South Creek clamped a hand tightly over her nose, overwhelmed by the noxious fumes. Fanny, while not as dramatic, similarly minimized her breathing. Barry, on the other hand, seemed entirely unfazed, completely accustomed to the pervasive stench.

Many sections of the farm were covered by sheds, offering a convenient respite from the pouring rain. Craning their necks and peering through the structures, they soon spotted an elderly man conversing with several other individuals.

“It’s the Village Chief.”

“We’ve finally found him,” Barry declared. “Come on, I’m going to have a word with him.”

The paths within the farm were a stark contrast to the relatively clean roads of the village. Here, the muddy ground was frequently mixed with unidentified excrement and nearly rotten feed, a feast that attracted a multitude of foraging insects. Barry, however, paid no mind, swaggering forth with complete disregard. The two girls, in contrast, were left to carefully pick their way, stepping gingerly to avoid the various foul substances underfoot.

“Mr. Village Chief!”

“Hey, Village Chief, still no clues?”

Hearing a voice call out to him, Mr. Reed slowly turned around, his hand still gripping his cane. His posture seemed somewhat unsteady, likely from the considerable exertion he had already expended.

“Oh, it’s you all,” Mr. Reed said, a note of surprise in his voice. “What brings you to seek out this old man? I distinctly recall telling you to stay put at home.”

“Village Chief,” Barry interjected, a hint of impatience in his tone. “You promised to find that boy Wede for me, but so much time has passed. He’s likely long gone by now.”

“There’s no need to be so anxious,” Mr. Reed replied calmly. “We have no new leads at the moment, and besides, haven’t you also been searching the village extensively?”

“While that’s true, still…”

The men who had been standing beside Mr. Reed were evidently the farm’s managers. Just like the farm itself, they exuded an astonishing stench, prompting the two girls to instinctively put a little more distance between themselves and the group.

“Mr. Village Chief,” one of the farm managers began, “didn’t I tell you this morning that Mr. Wede had been near the church? I just discovered these strips of cloth on the grass beside the chapel.”

“Oh? Let me see,” Mr. Reed responded, his interest piqued. At the mention of a potential new clue, he carefully accepted the bundle of cloth, peeling back its outer layer to reveal the shredded fabric strips within. “These cloth strips…” he murmured, his gaze fixed on the evidence.

Upon closer inspection, Mr. Reed quickly discerned faint traces of blood. His expression grew increasingly solemn as he gently rubbed the fabric between his fingers, assessing its texture. After a long moment of contemplation, he finally spoke, his voice measured. “Let us return to his home first to investigate.”

“What, Village Chief?” Barry pressed, his voice sharp. “Do you already know where he’s hiding?”

Ignoring Barry’s question, Mr. Reed, leaning on his cane, slowly approached the two girls. His expression had become notably hesitant. “You two have indeed been a great help, and this item is incredibly important,” he began, his gaze softening. “However, the rain outside is growing heavier. Perhaps it would be best if you returned home for now?”

“No!” Fanny protested immediately, her voice firm. “We want to help find Mr. Wede too!”

Upon hearing that their hard-won opportunity to investigate might slip away, Fanny was, predictably, the first to voice her displeasure.

“If you are truly willing to come along, then follow us,” Mr. Reed conceded with a sigh. “And thank you, Bauer, Ravis, for all your efforts that have, unfortunately, come to naught so far.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” one of them quickly replied. “It’s our honor to be of assistance.”

The two farm managers, acutely aware of the pervasive stench clinging to them, offered their thanks. With that, they turned and returned to their duties.

“Hey,” Barry demanded, “why are we going to that thief’s house? Has he been hiding there all this time?”

“Just follow along,” Mr. Reed stated flatly. “If you’re unwilling, you’re free to continue your search within the village.”

“Tsk…” Mr. Reed’s blunt reply effectively silenced Barry. He clicked his tongue in displeasure, yet he ultimately had no choice but to fall in line and follow the group toward Wede’s home.

****

A long, drawn-out creak echoed as the dilapidated door slowly swung open. As the group stepped inside, they found the vicinity utterly deserted. The interior of the house remained as squalid as before, perhaps even more so, with an added layer of disarray.

Farm tools, once haphazardly arranged in corners, now lay strewn across the floor. The already dilapidated wooden bed was missing a significant section, raising concerns about the possibility of ever sleeping on it. The air inside was thick with a stale, putrid odor, mingled with an unidentifiable scent, making breathing a struggle. The insect infestation appeared to have worsened considerably since their last visit, with myriad traces of their presence scarring both walls and floor.

“Are you certain this is the place?” Barry asked, a wrinkle of disgust on his face. “This hardly looks fit for human habitation.”

“Though I had heard rumors before,” Mr. Reed murmured, shaking his head slowly, “I never imagined it had deteriorated to such an extent.”

In contrast to Barry and Mr. Reed’s dismay, the two girls remained largely unperturbed. They had been similarly shocked during their previous visit, though at the time, their excitement had prevented them from paying close attention. Reflecting on it now, a pang of guilt settled in their hearts.

“What a truly pitiable child,” Mr. Reed sighed, his voice heavy. “And his grandmother… Why did I never truly notice their plight?”

After a thorough survey of the room, Mr. Reed took in every detail of the squalid interior. Even for a man who had lived as long as he had, the sight compelled a deep, involuntary sigh.