Free Web NovelChapter 8: The Storms of This Dirty World
Shit it. How did Lucien forget that?
He had almost begun sweating, his confident grin faltering.
’Why are you so nervous, goddamnit?!’
The young man’s mouth moved to speak, to throw a clever retort as the original Lucien would’ve done, but—
"Fried rice!" Mikky yelled out.
And Darrell blinked, turning his gaze away from Lucien and toward the kid who jumped up and down just in front of the counter.
The old man’s grin widened.
"Takeout?" Darrell asked.
"Takeout!"
Darrell’s grin broke into a hearty laugh, and he looked to Lucien.
"The young lad’s still a lively one, eh, Lucien?"
At that moment, Lucien breathed out, taking a moment to melt the anxiety, not letting it bleed into his voice as he uttered with a smile:
"Still is. You might have to be quick with it. The boy’s so hungry I’m afraid he might eat us both."
Darrell chuckled at that.
"You and your dry jokes."
Lucien frowned.
"Dry? What do you mean? My jokes are very funny. Aren’t they, Mikky?"
He looked down at the kid.
Wide, glistening, innocent blue eyes peered into Lucien’s emerald. Silent.
Lucien blinked.
"Well?"
"No. They aren’t funny," Mikky said matter-of-factly, then he turned toward Darrell, although the boy had to strain his neck to get a better view of the old man. "Fried rice!"
Lucien let out an exaggerated gasp.
Darrell, however, raised a brow. And then he grinned. A sharp smile on a wrinkled face.
"No time for chit-chat. The boy is hungry," The old man turned to Lucien, regarding him. "Two plates full, right?"
Lucien nodded.
Old man Darrell put on a serious facial expression as he nodded in reply, outstretching a palm.
"That will be 13units each."
Lucien grimaced.
’Tsk.’
He’d hoped the price would be less expensive.
But, for shit’s sake, how was Lucien and Mikky going to survive this way? Those 50units he had with him were the last money he had left, and they would be extinguished after dinner tonight; meanwhile, they still had to eat every day.
Honestly, being utterly broke would’ve been more bearable if only a few minutes ago, Lucien hadn’t decided to quit all his part-time jobs!
Damn.
Lucien sighed, sliding a hand into the pocket of his black, fitted pants. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
’I will deal with this later, when I get back home. It seems my array of plans keeps increasing.’
He brought them out of his pocket. Two slick metal disks. Round, dark and stamped with the symbol of The Union. An ’=’ sign.
Lucien dropped them on Darrell’s open palm, eliciting a quite pleasant grin on the old man’s face.
Darrell cleared his throat.
"Very well then," he said, pocketing the units as he turned toward the door behind the counter. "Let me go get your orders ready. You’ll have to wait a bit. Stand here, though. Don’t sit with any of those men. You have a kid with you."
And like that, the old man left to get their order.
Lucien grimaced, gazing at Mikky, who stood faithfully, awaiting his fried rice.
And then, he gazed at the rest of the criminals seated in the tent.
He sighed.
"How great."
***
While waiting for their food to arrive, Lucien had half-expected one of the criminals to walk up to him and try to intimidate him — like a traditionally cliche scene in one of the numerous webnovels he’d read — but, to his surprise, no one approached him. And he quite liked that.
The young man and Mikky were engaged in a small, playful banter, where Lucien kept telling Michael about a really cool place called an ’amusement park’ — somewhere where both kids and adults had great fun, and Mikky kept spamming the word ’whoa’ while asking Lucien to take him there one day.
Did amusement parks even exist in this world?
Well, there was no way Lucien would know that. But the whole amusement park discussion did help Mikky forget all about his grumbling stomach.
A perfect plan, if Lucien said so himself.
Although he wished there was a way he could ignore his own stomach rumbling.
Impossible.
But, luckily for them both, Darrell didn’t waste much time. He came out from that door a few minutes after he’d left, holding with him a plastic bag that held their food.
Lucien took the food gratefully, noting the old man’s expression. Darrell’s smile was genuinely warm today, almost making Lucien forget that the man was a pseudo-criminal who made a living buying illegal goods from criminals to feed to criminals.
Mikky was practically drooling. The scent of the food was dizzying, after all. Lucien could feel the hunger biting the insides of his stomach at that point.
After a small exchange of thanks and promises to come back again, Lucien, holding the food with one hand, held Mikky and turned to go.
He ignored the gazes. They were so predatory, he could feel it. Judging him, checking if he was someone with worth.
It reminded him of Earth. Of that world which favored the rich and well-connected. He, a practical nobody, had always been scrutinized. Always judged. Always weighed and scaled by those same predatory eyes that scanned his worth.
And... he was always thrown aside. Always disappointed. Always abandoned.
And so, Lucien was so, so happy to leave this damn place that reminded him of those days.
But just before he left, Darrell spoke:
"You’re a good kid, Lucien," he said, polishing a random glass on the counter. "Don’t let yourself get buried by the storms of this dirty world. That kid won’t like it."
Lucien’s eyes widened, and he paused.
"Luci?" Mikky called, tugging at his long sleeve, "You alright?"
Lucien ignored the boy, gazing at Darrell, who still stood behind the counter. This time, he set down the glass he was polishing, and, with that same warm smile, gazed at Lucien.
’You’re a good kid, Mira. Don’t let your smile get buried by the storms of this dirty world.’
Those were the exact words that the Old and elusive S-rank Hunter ’D’ had spoken to the teenage Calamity of Storms, Amira, just before he died in the novel. The man was something of a mentor to Amira. She’d lost her smile anyway.
Lucien smiled and then nodded.
"Thank you," he mouthed, then faced forward, ruffling Michael’s hair and assuring him that everything was okay.
’It seems I was wrong about Darrell. He isn’t a bad person after all.’
And like that, Lucien and Michael left Old Man Darrell’s place, heading back home.
