I had a quick al of bacon and eggs and left the diner.
As I was walking by, I saw a soup kitchen not far away. Of course it had an extrely long line. The struggling would often try to get by in places like this.
Whenever I had tough fights with my father, I would run away from ho. So I had so experience eating in soup kitchens. Depending on how hungry you were, a bowl of bland chicken broth and rock-hard bread still tasted like heaven.
Most of those people were good people who just needed a little help. Unlike , who had a ho, but ended up there because of my pride. My arrogance made rebellious. Fortunately, life saw fit to beat back into submission.
That was until I was old enough to get a job. But truly, the clutches of poverty were perhaps the hardest to escape. As I rembered my past, I saw the soup kitchen close its doors.
This was despite more people waiting in line. Resources weren't finite, so they probably ran out of food. Unconsciously, I walked up to the long line of people and in a strong voice exclaid.
"I will feed you. Follow ."
There were about fifty to sixty people who heard my words and followed like sheep. I led the procession of hungry people to the diner where I had co from.
I didn't know when, but as we walked, more and more people joined us. By the ti we reached the diner, only fifteen minutes away, there were well over a hundred.
The owners, seeing the mob, assud the worst and ca out trembling with pistols and even an AR-15. A fat man in the middle of the group then shouted.
"I don't know why you're all here! But you will not rampage through my diner!"
Everyone in the soup kitchen remained silent, of course, waiting with bated breath for my response. I then stepped forward and addressed the man with the assault rifle.
"Please relax, they are with . How much does this place make in a day?"
Still cautious, he replied, keeping his weapon at the ready.
"About $1200-$1300, $1500 on a good day. Why? Why did you bring these people here?"
As a frequent custor of this diner, I already had their digital account for mobile paynts. Not wasting ti, I opened my GRI and converted 2500 souls to cash. I then sent $2,000 to the diner owner's bank account.
In the sa breath, a young man excitedly shouted.
"PA! Soone sent us $2000!"
"What? Who sent it? Why?" the man connected the dots then turned to in confusion.
"How many of these people can you feed?" I asked, pointing behind .
Understanding my intent, the man disard and quickly assessed the situation. The man went from being extrely hostile to grinning broadly.
"I can feed about 30 people like kings or everyone like peasants," he explained eagerly.
Of course, the more people ate, the less everyone got. I turned to face the mob behind .
"Thirty stay here. Eat your fill and enjoy the day. The rest follow ."
Probably used to standing in line, the people I picked at random quickly ford an orderly line.
"Here are your thirty. Feed them with what you have. Keep the rest."
Elated by my response, the owner began to bow rapidly like a bobblehead.
"Understood, my lord! We will see to it that they are satisfied! Thank you, thank you! Um, how do I address you?"
"My na is John Smith," I answered casually.
"Of course it is. Heh. God bless you my Lord! All right everyone! Co on in! We will prepare a feast for you!"
"HELL YEAH!!"
"WAAAHHOOOO!
"THANK YOU SO MUCH MR. SMITH!"
Cheers naturally rang out from the group about to eat, those left behind had looks of envy and disgust. Chuckling to myself, I motioned for them to follow and moved on.
We walked towards another diner I knew. But sohow, instead of dwindling, our numbers swelled on the way. We looked like a parade. I didn't know there were so many holess people in the area.
When we arrived, the sa process repeated itself. They were scared, I gave them money, they smiled, and I left a group behind. I ended up repeating this process over twenty tis.
It was well past noon by the ti everyone was settled in. Personally, I had no idea how many I had fed, but the feeling wasn't bad.
Even though it was a complete waste of ti, the smiles of the people as they happily ate their fill ward my heart.
Then I noticed that there was a group with video caras and microphones near . Just as I was leaving the last of the starving people, a cute woman approached .
"Hello Mr. Smith! I am Angie Emissora, Channel 7 News. Can I have a mont of your ti, please?"
"..."
"Please! This story is too good not to report! Such acts of benevolence are extrely rare! I have made it my life's mission to cover only positive stories! Please let do a short interview!"
Benevolence, huh? As much as I wanted to take credit, my actions amounted to nothing. Tomorrow these people will be hungry again and I will be gone.
Many would even suspect that I did this as a publicity stunt, like a Youtuber or an influencer.
'I don't even appear on cara. How could you even do the interview?' I complained in my mind.
As I found the situation annoying, I raised my fingers and snapped them in front of Angie and her caraman while invoking death resonance.
"You did not see . When you interview the holess, no matter what they say, you will forget everything except my na. Good day, Ms. Emissora, and you too, Mr. Caraman."
I imdiately turned around and invoked the Death Resonance once more. It felt instinctive. Sohow I knew how to beco invisible from everyone's point of view.
But just then, a feeling of danger enveloped . Remaining silent, I tried to locate the source, only to give way to a familiar man.
"Zach?" I asked dumbfounded.
"Yo, bastard! Fucking around again, I see."
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