The Lies Of A Wizened Man Ghi chép cốt truyện · phần 4 / 5

Back in my school days, I was taught that Captain Melville liked to tell stories. Tall ones. The kind of tales that smell more like old boots than truth. As a working man, I’ve always known his tavern, "Ol’ Salt ’N Pepper", was named not just for his sea-worn beard, but because you’re supposed to take everything he says with a pinch, nay, a load of salt.

And yet, people lap it up.

They crowd around him like he’s some sea-born prophet, hanging on every crooked word. Why? The man’s a liar. A fossil. He hasn’t been out past the bay in years. Why trust a word he says — even worse, why buy his fish? Especially when we sell better catch, cheaper, and without the song and dance!

Just last week, he burst into the square, hair all tangled, shouting, "The Drak! I saw 'em, they're back!" Theatrics. Always theatrics with him.

It’s just another one of his tales, spun for coin and glory. And yet, folks eat it up.

Fools, the lot of 'em.