The next morning, Clayton found his wheat crops wilting again, even though he had tended them carefully the night before. If this continued, it wouldn't be long before the entire field dried up and died.
The sky was cloudless, making the heat feel even more oppressive.
Thankfully, Clayton noticed it early. He quickly cast Spiritual Rain using the Sharing feature on one of the skeletons he had summoned the previous day, along with two more he summoned that morning. With this, he could handle a prolonged drought with ease.
After some time tending to the field, he was finally done. For now, he could relax.
Meanwhile, the surrounding neighbors were visibly busy. Although they didn't possess the same "cheat" abilities as Clayton, they were veteran farmers. With a bit of observation and discussion, it wouldn't take long for them to figure out that something was seriously off.
Because of this, everyone was hustling about—making Clayton, who stood leisurely in his field, stand out even more.
Equus, seeing this, couldn't hold back a sneer. He assumed Clayton had given up and was simply wallowing in despair.
With his long, horse-like face, Equus felt this was the perfect moment to assert his superiority once more.
"Hey! Look at our young master—acting like some noble from a prestigious family! Just standing there, staring at his field with that 'dignified' face, not even lifting a finger to work his three-hectare plot!" he mocked loudly.
Clayton slowly turned his head and gave Equus a blank stare—one that made it seem as if he were looking at a mentally challenged clown.
That look infuriated Equus. Who did Clayton think he was, daring to look down on him like that? Had the brat forgotten his place now that his father was gone?
But Equus's anger quickly turned into surprise. He looked closely at Clayton's field. Though he wasn't the most diligent farmer, even he could see that Clayton's crops were lush and thriving—better than any of the others nearby.
A surge of confusion and jealousy bubbled up inside him. Wasn't Clayton just a pampered kid who barely touched the soil? Why were his crops doing so well?
The realization stung. He used to take pride in belittling Clayton. Now, he felt humiliated.
Only then did he fully understand the meaning of Clayton's gaze—it really did make him look like a fool.
Equus's anger boiled over. Just as he was about to lash out again, an idea struck him.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey, Clayton! I knew it! I never misjudged you! I always believed you were a hardworking, clever young man! Don't get me wrong—if I was a little harsh yesterday, it was only to help you understand how tough the world is! I'm willing to play the villain if it helps you grow strong! You know, when you were little, I used to carry you around—you were so happy you peed all over me!"
Clayton frowned in disbelief. The more he listened, the more absurd Equus's words became.
What the hell does this bastard actually want?
Seeing Equus about to spiral further into nonsense, Clayton cut him off.
"Alright, enough, Equus. Just tell me what you want."
Equus was annoyed at being interrupted, but he quickly switched to a more flattering tone.
"Ahem. I see you're quite skilled at farming, Clayton. I won't ask for much. Just a little help with my field. If you're willing, I'd be really grateful!"
Clayton scoffed.
"Grateful?"
"Yes!" Equus replied with a wide grin, oblivious to the sarcasm in Clayton's tone.
"You think your 'Grateful' can feed me? If I asked for your head and said 'Grateful' afterward, would you hand it over?"
Equus immediately fell silent.
"What's your deal, Equus?" Clayton snapped.
"Don't be so petty. We're neighbors, aren't we? Like the saying goes, 'A distant relative can't compare to a close neighbor.' You should be treating your neighbors well, not mocking them!"
Clayton burst out laughing—not because it was funny, but because he was so fed up.
"You know that saying? Then what the hell were you doing last night? Don't you have any shame?"
Equus shook his head, acting like Clayton was the ignorant one.
"I already told you, Clayton. It was all just a tough lesson to help you grow. I didn't mean it!"
Clayton snorted.
"Hah! Who's going to believe that? You don't even sound convinced yourself. Don't assume everyone's as stupid as you. I'm done wasting time. Whether it's true or not, only you know."
With that, Clayton turned and walked away, ignoring anything more Equus had to say.
Frustrated that his plan had failed, Equus grew even angrier.
"Hmph! What's so great about him anyway? He doesn't even know how to be a good neighbor! No wonder his parents died! Arrogant people like him are bound to follow them to the grave soon enough!"
He kept cursing under his breath, venting his rage.
Those who overheard began to scowl in disgust. They were embarrassed by how childish and shameless Equus was acting.
He was the one who insulted Clayton first, then came asking for help, and now he was throwing a tantrum after being rejected. If that wasn't pathetic, what was?
Some people quietly distanced themselves from Equus—worried they might be his next target.
Meanwhile, from a distance, a young girl with a gentle expression watched Clayton's retreating back with a soft smile. It was Liora.
Earlier, when she saw Clayton's lonely figure, she had wanted to approach and comfort him—but her father's sharp glare had stopped her.
She'd been worried Clayton would sink into grief and become a broken person. But now, she felt relieved. He was stronger than she had imagined.
Her father, however, watched with a troubled gaze. It upset him to see his daughter supporting someone he considered a bad influence—Clayton, the "little thug."
The more he thought about it, the heavier his heart became.
Back in the field, Equus was still ranting, unaware that people were avoiding him. He was sinking deeper into his own hatred and resentment.
Clayton had lived a comfortable life while his father was alive. And even after the old man's death, Clayton still managed to carry on.
But Equus? He had never known a father's love. Only beatings and abuse.
That torment had lasted well into his teenage years—until one day, he snapped. He killed his father while the man was drunk.
The more he compared his life to Clayton's, the more his fury consumed him.
That's when someone bumped into him.
Annoyed, Equus turned, ready to snap—but his mouth shut tight when he saw who it was.
It was Hank, a fellow tenant farmer—but better known for his gambling, drinking, and nightly visits to the local brothels.
Equus felt a wave of revulsion. Hank reminded him too much of his own father.
While Equus stood frozen, Hank staggered toward his shack, clearly just returning from an all-night bender. His field was surely in ruins.
Then, suddenly, a glint sparked in Equus's eyes.
"Hehehe… Clayton… I want you to feel what I've felt."
With that, he hurried after Hank.
"Hey, Uncle Hank!" he called out.
No reply. Hank kept staggering forward.
"Uncle Hank! I've got something important to—"
He grabbed Hank's shoulder.
SLAP!
A hard slap landed on his face, sending him tumbling to the ground.
The area went silent. All eyes turned to Equus, now sprawled in the dirt.
Burning with shame and rage, he could only grit his teeth. His hatred boiled over once more—and his thoughts returned to a single name:
Clayton.
If it weren't for him… none of this would've happened.