When the bus finally arrived at the Calico Desert Oasis, Leon got off together with the older man. Only then did he notice the massive luggage compartnt beneath the bus.
That was where the older man’s goods were stored. Quite a few other passengers were also gathered around it, lining up to retrieve their belongings.
Outside, Leon saw the familiar Oasis Store and parking lot. Unlike his last visit, there were clear signs of renovation near the store’s open space.
A wide area had been paved with heat-resistant bricks and divided into small sections, each with a simple sunshade overhead. Clearly, these were trading stalls reserved for the desert folk.
As part of the first group to arrive in the Calico Desert that day, Leon watched as about half the passengers from his bus spread out to these stalls to set up shop. The older man he had been chatting with on the ride took the stall closest to the Oasis Store.
Leon, having already arranged this with him during the ride, naturally went over to help him set up. While doing so, he also bought a set of crystal-clear glass bowls and plates.
The craftsmanship was exquisite. Not only were the shapes perfectly uniform, but the surfaces were etched with reliefs full of desert charm—cacti, cals, and seabuckthorn.
Though technically tableware, they were more like glass art pieces, the kind you could display in a cabinet without embarrassnt.
And the price? Surprisingly low. For handmade items like these, you’d expect to pay at least three to five hundred G elsewhere. But the old man only asked for 140 G. That included four bowls, two dinner plates, and two teacups.
At that price, Leon could almost believe the man was giving them away. But judging by the old man’s cheerful expression as he counted the money, he clearly felt he’d made a good deal too.
Once the money was counted, the old man stuffed a big handful of desert dates into Leon’s pocket as a gift, refusing paynt.
Leon didn’t turn him down—mainly because when he tried to pay, the old man’s glare was so fierce it felt like he’d roll up his sleeves for a fight if Leon insisted. So Leon accepted the kindness.
When no one was looking, Leon quietly stowed the glass tableware into his System Backpack. Then he casually popped one of the desert dates into his mouth.
It was sandy in texture, the flesh a bit dry, not particularly sweet, with a faint tartness—but still acceptable.
“Hey, Sandy! Want so desert dates?” Leon called out as he entered the Oasis Store, holding out a handful toward Sandy, who was leaning on the counter.
“No thanks. I’m sick of them.” Sandy waved him off, then glanced behind him and sighed in mild disappointnt. “Only you ca, huh?”
“Yeah, nothing else to do, so I ca to look around. Bet you’re a bit disappointed Emily’s not here,” Leon teased as he dropped into the chair at the counter.
“Of course. I’ve got nothing to talk about with you. Emily’s far more interesting.” Sandy was blunt as ever.
“That almost makes think you’re into won. I an, I’m not bad-looking, but you’re completely immune. Weird, right?” Leon joked.
“I’ve t n better-looking than you over the years. I’m immune. And if you say I like won, I won’t deny it—girls are soft and sll nice. Way more comfortable to hug than n.” Sandy didn’t care in the least.
“How’s business lately? The Stardew Valley bus is running again—you should be seeing so benefit.”
Leon decided to change the subject. Sandy looked young, but she was probably decades older than him. Her directness made him wary of pushing his luck.
“It’s okay. Most custors are drawn to those desert folk stalls. My business is just so-so.” Sandy shrugged.
“You don’t seem to care much,” Leon observed.
“Of course not. My custors aren’t tourists. So, dear farr Leon, how about giving my business a little boost?” Sandy propped her chin on her hands and squinted at him with a teasing smile.
“Alright, give so starfruit seeds.” Leon shrugged. He wasn’t here for nothing—since he had the money, stocking up was a good idea.
Without a Seed Maker, the only source for starfruit seeds was Sandy.
Normally 400 G each, last ti she’d given him a discount to 280 G. This ti, she still discounted them, but to 300 G each.
“Emily’s not here, so I’m in a bad mood. You only get 100 G off.”
Leon didn’t argue. He bought 20 packs—200 seeds total—already planning that when he and Emily were together, he’d co here hand-in-hand just to feed Sandy a full serving of dog food.
After pocketing Leon’s 6,000 G, Sandy gave him a sly look. “Not bad. Last ti you were stingy when paying. Now you’re throwing money around. Looks like your farm can finally support you.”
“Just scraping by. Compared to soone with a store this big, I’m nothing.” Leon put the seeds in his backpack, then asked, “By the way, I’m looking for a place to gamble. Any recomndations?”
In truth, besides buying seeds, his other goal today was to et the mysterious Mr. Qi.
“Gambling’s not a good habit. But if you insist, head to Zuzu City. I can point you to an underground casino there—you’d get your fill.” Sandy gave him a look of disdain, then added, “Nothing closer?”
“No, I want sowhere nearby. I’m in the mood now.” Leon rubbed his hands together like he couldn’t wait.
“Heh, stop testing . If you want to go upstairs, just say so.” Sandy looked at him like his acting was unbearable.
“Oh, then I’ll go.” Leon dropped the pretense imdiately, grinning as he looked for the stairs.
But before he could take more than two steps, Sandy’s voice called after him. “You can go, but don’t say I didn’t warn you—the wooden-faced security guard up there isn’t to be trifled with.”
Say no to gambling and drugs—start with !
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