Chapter 28: A Slly Day
Monday morning, Mr. Anderson was up early, and so were the apprentices, cooks, and waitstaff—he’d demanded everyone arrive earlier than usual.
The previous night, he had hired soone to make a large sign:
- Due to high demand, the maximum dining ti is two hours. Custors exceeding this limit may be asked to settle their bill and leave.
- Single diners may be required to share tables during busy hours.
- The restaurant reserves the right to refuse service to suspicious individuals.
The sign was prominently displayed at the entrance, and Mr. Anderson kept a watchful eye on it throughout the day. To his relief, Lance didn’t appear, and nothing unusual happened.
For most people, Monday was an important day—office workers received their weekly assignnts, factory employees resud production lines after a weekend break, and dockworkers busily handled the influx of goods following the weekend’s inventory checks.
The restaurant saw only four tables by noon, amounting to less than 60 bucks. While this was a mid-to-high-end restaurant, not all the food was expensive. For example, a breadbasket, a main course (perhaps a simple fish-and-beef combo or a regular steak), and a starter soup would total no more than 10 bucks.
Mid-to-high-end restaurants like Mr. Anderson’s allowed diners to spend modestly or extravagantly, depending on their preferences.
By evening, business was slightly better, with nine tables bringing in 133 bucks. Calculating gross profits, they had barely broken even, losing around 10 to 20 bucks.
Mondays were always like this, so Mr. Anderson wasn’t surprised. Lance’s threats from the previous day seed like empty boasts. As the day passed without incident, Mr. Anderson let his guard down slightly.
What he didn’t know was that Lance, fully aware of Monday’s slower business, had scheduled the “next round” for Tuesday.
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On Tuesday morning, Mr. Anderson was up early again. Tuesdays often saw more dining groups—workers catching up after the weekend, chatting about where they’d gone, and sharing a al to strengthen bonds.
By 11 a.m., the restaurant had a couple of tables occupied, and everything seed normal. Feeling optimistic, Mr. Anderson grabbed a cloth and gave the sign at the entrance a good wipe.
anwhile, across the street in a shadowed alley, Lance stood at the corner, watching Mr. Anderson and his restaurant.
“It’s that one… the guy cleaning the sign,” Lance confird, before turning to face the group beside him: a band of holess individuals.
Each of them emitted a strong, unpleasant odor.
The previous night, Lance had treated them to a hearty al—beef, pork, and refined carbs. These foods, combined with a powerful laxative mixed into their drinks, ensured that what they expelled today would be nothing short of atrocious.
This morning, he’d also given them additional watery gruel to maximize the effect.
Seeing it was nearly ti for the lunchti rush, Lance handed the first holess man a cup of water laced with laxatives.
“Go to the restaurant’s entrance. Do your business right there. Then head to the alley we agreed upon, where you’ll receive two bucks.”
“If you make it extra disgusting, I’ll add another dollar,” he added, addressing the group. “The sa goes for the rest of you—two bucks, with a bonus for exceptional performance.”
The first holess man, nearly fifty, with matted hair crawling with tiny roaches, grinned. His dark, grimy face made it impossible to discern whether he’d ever been anything but filthy. ??à????B????
“Don’t worry, Mr. Lance. I’ll make sure they rember this day every ti they eat!” He thumped his chest and grinned, revealing his yellowed, rotting teeth. Lance appreciated his enthusiasm.
The man downed the laxative in one gulp, then stood quietly.
Roughly ten minutes later, he clutched his stomach. “It’s happening, Mr. Lance! I gotta go!”
Lance handed a second dose to the next man, just as two tables of custors entered the restaurant.
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Mr. Anderson was finally starting to relax. The day felt calm, and he believed it would remain uneventful. He retreated to the break room for a much-needed rest after two days of early mornings, late nights, and stress.
Just as he was about to lie down, he heard the manager shouting outside.
Startled, Mr. Anderson leaped up and dashed to the entrance.
The mont he stepped outside, a horrendous stench nearly knocked him unconscious.
Under the scorching sun, the sll was even more unbearable.
In front of the restaurant, a holess man was arguing with the manager while saring feces onto the freshly cleaned sign.
“Why isn’t this being cleaned up?!” Mr. Anderson bellowed, gagging as he watched the man sar excrent. He almost vomited on the spot.
“Call the police… ugh… call the police!”
Hearing this, the holess man bolted, letting out a fart as he fled and leaving another foul pile near the entrance.
Across the street, three potential custors paused, took one look at the ss, and crossed over to a different restaurant.
Mr. Anderson shouted in fury as the apprentices hauled out buckets of water to clean the area, scrubbing furiously.
“It all happened so fast,” the manager stamred, trembling as he recounted the incident. “He just ran up, dropped his pants, and then… boom! I thought his guts would explode!”
Though the area was eventually cleaned, the sll lingered, causing another table of guests to leave.
The manager, now visibly anxious, asked, “Do you think this is part of their new trick?”
Mr. Anderson frowned, unsettled. “Hire a couple more waitstaff to keep an eye out. If another holess person approaches, don’t let them near…”
Before he could finish, another holess man sprinted across the street.
Like the first, he dropped his pants mid-run. This one, however, turned to face the restaurant, aiming his bare behind directly at them.
Pedestrians were frozen in shock. The apprentice closest to the scene turned slowly before vomiting violently.
Mr. Anderson gagged, cursing profusely.
“That son of a b! It has to be that scoundrel’s doing!”
By the end of the day, Mr. Anderson’s patience was stretched thin. He hadn’t seen Lance once but knew in his gut that this chaos was orchestrated by him.
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