The sun had already set. Daniel reached the town gate and began walking toward his ho, but his thoughts lingered on Renery, whom he hadn’t seen in a couple of days.
"Should I check renery? Let’s check him," he whispered, shrugging slightly as he headed east.
A mont later, he arrived—only to find his house tightly shut. He stepped through the gate, but the door was locked solid.
Daniel’s eyes swept across the front of the house, catching a narrow gap in the window. He leaned closer and peeked inside. The room was bare—no bed, no table, nothing. Just emptiness.
’What the... there’s nothing inside. But why?’ he thought, stepping back. ’Maybe he’s at his usual stall today. Hm... let’s go.’
...
But as he reached the marketplace, Renery’s stall was empty, just like the past few days. He walked closer, and almost imdiately, a street vendor noticed him and hurried over.
"Hey, sir! Where have you been? We’ve been waiting for you," the man said, his face lighting up with a warm smile.
Daniel’s eyes widened, mouth slightly open."huh?"
"Yesterday, our conversation wasn’t finished. Don’t you rember?" he said with a smile.
"What? Conversation?" Daniel replied, tilting his head slightly.
The street vendor leaned in and lowered his voice, explaining that he wanted the recipe for the at pouch, offering ten silver in exchange.
Daniel refused instantly, a grin spreading across his face. "No thanks. I’m not interested in your offer."
Daniel turned to walk away, but before he could take more than a step, the vendor called out again.
"Sir—how about twenty silver?"
"No," Daniel replied, raising his left hand in a firm stop gesture.
"Fourty," the vendor called, hurrying after him.
"No."
"Fifty—"
Daniel froze and turned. "Do you really think I’d give away my secret recipe for... just a few coins?"
The vendor stopped short, his face twisting in confusion.
"Status," he whispered, his voice low.
————————
Na: Harry Harndel
Age: 34
HP: 1400/1400
Mana: 200/200
Description: A hardworking man—and a thief. A self-proclaid burglar who had robbed countless tis, until guilt finally flooded his heart after a priest overwheld him with the holy words of God. From that day on, he gave himself a second chance, choosing to walk the path of truth.
————————
’Hmm... a second chance it says,’ he thought, glancing at the vendor.
"Then, how much—" said Harry.
Daniel didn’t answer right away. "Before we talk about price, tell this—can I trust you? Because I trust that vendor and he ran away with my recipe."
Harry nodded at once. "Yes—yes, sir. You can trust . I’m not like Renery."
"Two hundred silver coins per week, for six months," Daniel said, his tone calm and confident.
Harry froze, eyes widening in disbelief. "What?! Young man, you’re insane."
Daniel shook his head. "No, I’m not and I can assure you that, that amount will be a piece of bread for you."
The vendor paused, recalling the day Daniel and Renery first brought out the at pouches. The crowd they drew was unimaginable.
"But, what if it doesn’t work? I an the food?" Harry asked, his expression cautious.
Daniel crossed his arms. "You ate the at pouch, didn’t you?"
"Yes."
"Was it tasty?"
"Yes."
Daniel t his gaze without blinking. "Then it will work, because it’s my recipe."
Harry agreed nervously. "Okay, I’ll give you the amount you asked. But only if I see the results."
"Fair enough," said Daniel.
Daniel told him to bring a sheet of paper, and Harry obeyed. Minutes later, Daniel carefully wrote down the process and ingredients in detail. But before handing it over, he delivered his final ssage straight to Harry’s face.
"Sir, have you ever been struck by lightning before?" Daniel asked with a neutral expression.
Harry shook his head. "Not really, but I’ve seen it."
"Good." Daniel extended his right hand. "Then rember this—if you ever try to run from , lightning moves faster than your feet."
*Bzz~*
Daniel demonstrated his power. Small sparks crackled across his palm.
Harry swallowed hard.
*Glug*
’Wait, don’t tell that this kid is a shaman. Fuck, I should’ve known by his attitude. Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ Harry muttered, thinking he’d hit the nail into his own foot.
"From tomorrow on, I’ll collect my share every seven days. Okay, sir?" Daniel said, smiling faintly.
"Okay," Harry said, his fingers tightening around the paper.
’Fuck... why did I even approach him in the first place?’ Harry thought, lifting his gaze to the sky. ’God, please grant the strength to overco this phase of my life.’
...
’Haha... it’s so easy to scare people,’ Daniel thought as he turned away. ’Let’s buy so biscuits for a midnight snack.’
He stepped into the bakery and headed straight for the counter.
"Sir, I want five plain and five sweet biscuits please," he said warmly.
The baker nodded with a smile. "Co right up young man, Benjamin—pack five plain and five sweet quick."
While Daniel waited for his biscuits, his eyes wandered around the bakery. People chatted softly, laughing with friends and family. Then his gaze drifted to Tressa, seated at a corner table, calmly dipping biscuits into a glass of milk.
’Huh? What is she doing? She looks sad for so reason,’ he thought, his eyes fixed on her.
Daniel approached Tressa calmly. She sat alone at a small table ant for two, her face turned toward the wall.
"Hey, Aunt. How are you..." he said from behind her.
Tressa turned, the sadness on her face lifting at once. "Oh, Daniel. I didn’t see you."
"Can I sit here?"
"Ah, sure. Why not?"
Tressa was stunned by Daniel’s politeness—unaware it was rely the quiet patience of a lion before the strike.
"Aunt, you look sad a mont ago. Did sothing happened?" Daniel said with a neutral expression.
"Agh, it’s nothing Daniel," she shrugged with a nervous grin. "It’s just that, the at pouch guy didn’t shown up for couple of days. You know—it’s my favourite."
*Slurrp*
A mont of silence settled over the table—until Daniel broke it.
"I an, I can just make it for you if you want," said Daniel.
Reviews
All reviews (0)