Mike followed the villager into the largest house in the village.
Inside, the scent of herbs and smoke lingered in the air. A middle-aged man stood near a wooden table, his hair streaked with gray, his posture straight despite exhaustion. His eyes were sharp—but softened the moment he looked at Mike.
The Village Chief.
"To think a kindness born of coincidence would save our entire village," the chief said slowly, bowing deeply.
"We found your body near the forest and helped you. We never imagined that act would bring us a savior."
Mike was caught slightly off guard and waved his hand. "You don't need to thank me that much. I just did what I could."
The chief shook his head. "No. If not for you, we would all be dead."
He hesitated for a moment, then looked Mike straight in the eyes.
"I know this is a heavy request," the chief said, his voice firm but sincere, "but I ask this not as a chief—only as a father."
He turned slightly.
"Please… take my daughter with you."
