The moon cast an eerie glow as Zack White, wary yet in pain, allowed the seemingly benevolent old man, Drake, to tend to his wounds. Unbeknownst to Zack, Drake concealed sinister intentions beneath the guise of helpfulness, a deceptive mask that hid the true nature of his motives.
"I know how to tend wounds with forest resources," Drake claimed, displaying a handful of random grasses he gathered along the way. "This may sting, but it will surely help stop the bleeding."
Zack, tears welling up in his eyes from the excruciating pain, questioned, "Are you sure it will help me?"
"Yes, of course," Drake replied benignly, wrapping Zack's wounds with grass and cloth before applying a potion and poison. With his system, he dropped the barrier that concealed their presence, unwittingly inviting
