Leon waved a hand, signaling that he had heard.
In a small booth tucked into the corner of the store, he spotted a two-ter-tall man in a black suit, black fedora, and black sunglasses, standing squarely at the base of a staircase. The man’s face was expressionless as he silently stared at Leon, who had just arrived.
“Big guy, mind stepping aside? I want to head up and play a few rounds.”
The mont Leon saw the bodyguard, he knew he had found the right place. He grinned and addressed him.
“…”
The bodyguard didn’t respond, as if he hadn’t heard Leon at all. He simply stood there, unmoving, like an impenetrable wall.
“I know your boss—Mr. Qi, right? He invited .”
Leon tried again.
“…”
Still no reply. But Leon did catch the faint twitch at the corner of the man’s mouth, almost like a sneer.
“Help out here?” Since words weren’t working, Leon pulled a hundred-G bill from his pocket. He stared at it a mont, unwilling to part with so much, then reluctantly switched it for a ten-G bill and discreetly offered it to the bodyguard.
This ti, the man’s composure cracked. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but his twitching mouth and trembling hands betrayed a reaction.
Instead of ignoring Leon or cursing him out, the bodyguard simply lifted a finger and pointed upward. Only then did Leon notice the security cara mounted above their heads.
“In that case, just step over here. This spot’s a cara blind spot—Mr. Qi won’t even know.” Leon quickly scoped out the cara’s coverage area, picked a hidden corner, and beckoned to the man.
Unfortunately, the bodyguard didn’t budge. After a deep breath or two to calm himself, he resud his stoic, statue-like stance, not moving an inch.
“Eh, no fun.”
From the man’s attitude, Leon realized there was no way he was getting into the second-floor club through normal ans. He turned and retraced his steps, spotting Sandy, who was sipping iced milk with a mischievous smile.
“t that block of wood, did you?”
Sandy slid another glass of iced milk across the table toward Leon—it was clearly ant for him. Seeing Leon’s frustrated expression, she pushed it the rest of the way.
“Not a single opening. Solid security,” Leon muttered with a shrug.
If the guard had been like the old-tirs Leon used to run into while delivering food, he had a hundred ways to deal with them. But his usual tricks clearly wouldn’t work here.
“That’s how he is. If you want to get upstairs, you’ll need another plan.” Sandy smirked. “Of course, I’m not going to tell you how to get in. That’s the boss’s rule. Maybe you could put that clever brain of yours to use.”
“What if I hook a grappling claw onto the roof and climb up, break a window, and go in that way?” Leon suggested tentatively.
“Let’s not even talk about whether you can kick through the second-floor glass. If you try it, you’d better watch out for bullets. Those guards aren’t blind, and you’d be a dangling target.” Sandy gave him an exasperated look.
“Oh? Sandy, lend your phone.” Leon raised an eyebrow.
“Who are you calling?” she asked curiously.
“The cops. Illegal firearms, underground gambling—plenty of good reasons. Once the place is in chaos, I can slip in unnoticed,” Leon said with a straight face.
“What a dumb idea. Neither of those charges will stick, and even if you report it, the police won’t show up. Stop clowning around. I’m not giving you any hints, so just think of a real plan.” Sandy rolled her eyes.
“Eh, no fun.” Realizing she’d seen through his intent, Leon didn’t push further. It had been worth a try, but it seed he really would have to play along with Mr. Qi’s twisted sense of humor—complete the process, get the mbership card, and enter the second floor legitimately.
The problem was, that would take too long. He could manage the battery pack thanks to his lightning rod, but the Rainbow Shell could only be found on the beach in sumr, and the beets in Lewis’s fridge couldn’t be planted until autumn. That ant, at best, he couldn’t get in until fall.
“A long road ahead,” he thought, giving up on chatting with Mr. Qi. If the man had really wanted to et him, the invitation would have already been sent.
After all, his little cody routine with the bodyguard had played out right under a cara.
“Want to grab lunch?”
Seeing Leon’s relaxed expression, Sandy guessed he’d given up on the second floor and smoothly changed the subject.
“Sure.”
Leon wasn’t about to turn her down—especially since the eternally youthful beauty had just made 6,000G off him. Even without knowing her net profit after costs, he knew one al wouldn’t eat into it. Might as well enjoy it.
“So, what do you want? Sothing with a desert flair, or sothing more ordinary?” Sandy asked.
“Desert specialty.” If he was in the Calico Desert, Leon wanted to experience it properly.
“You sure?” Sandy raised an eyebrow, her eyes full of amusent.
“Uh… not sure. What exactly counts as a desert specialty?” Leon asked, suddenly wary.
“Stead sandfish, cal milk bread, sand date pie, coconut jelly, chilled cactus. Nothing too hard to stomach,” she explained.
“No. If that were all, you wouldn’t be asking twice. Spill it—what else?” Leon said suspiciously.
“Fine. Fried scorpion, roasted rattlesnake, grilled lizard, and my favorite—watching people eat sandworm sashimi. These are all staples for adventurers in the Calico Desert, not sothing I made up to scare you. They’re part of the authentic local cuisine.”
Sandy sighed regretfully, finally revealing the rest of the nu.
“Yeah, we can skip that last part. Let’s stick with the first half. Two people can’t eat that much anyway—no need to waste food.” Leon refused without hesitation. Fried scorpion and roasted snake he could still understand, grilled lizard maybe—but sandworm sashimi? That was just wrong. So desert experiences, he could happily pass on.
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