Chapter 161: 161
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The wooden stalls were lined up to create a pathway for its customers. There was everything I imagined from small accessory shops made from wool to food stalls and ingredients. It reminded me of the time where I explored the carnival with Mill.
I wondered how Mill was doing now or the rebels in the capitol. I never got any news back from how the mission went. I knew Belle and Lucius would have been successful, but it couldn't be exactly a good thing for the commoners under the nobles.
I was brought back to reality from the loud yells from the stall owners to attract more customers with all their unique goods displayed in the open. Wasn't this what I expected to see? A colourful world of different classes mixed to present an entire new world?
I sniffed the air full of roasting meat from different stalls. My eyes glittered from the sight as I was about to leave both Luke and Olive to go to the nearest stall. But Luke held onto my wrist as he frowned. Did we not have enough money? I was sure the school provided some to make sure we seamlessly blended in.
"What?" I asked.
"We have enough food at home."
"We only have those tasteless fruits," I whined.
"Just one skewer," I pulled on his sleeve.
When Luke shook his head, I stomped my feet in response while pouting. I wondered why he was being so stingy with our money. He was a person who didn't look at price tags while shopping at the mall. Why did he suddenly change?
"It's not fair how you have the control over all the money," I complained.
"Do you want me to buy it for you?" Olive interrupted us.
"Really?" I grabbed both her hands with gratitude.
"It's really fine. We have many things to eat at home, right Rika?" Luke warned me.
I knew this time Luke was trying to prevent me from eating the food. He probably thought the food was going to cause something like a stomach ache since it was cooked from mere villagers. Just like the time he didn't let me eat the strawberry milk from the vending machine.
"What are you talking about? We only have fruits and vegetables, so I'm going to accept Olive's offer," I glared at him.
"And your vocaloid supply in the first district?" Luke whispered inside my ear.
I gritted my teeth as I recalled the feeling of betrayal from the fraction I joined. There was nothing I could do about my supply that Luke knew about. I reluctantly gave up on a stick of meat for the safety of my collection.
"Luke is right, I forgot there is enough food at home. Maybe next time," I sadly mumbled.
"So who needs the help?" I turned to her to change the topic.
"Mr. Jenkins with his old dagger to help uproot his vegetable fields," she pointed at an old man.
The man had a long white beard that almost reached his chest. He wore the same traditional shirt and trousers like the many beside him. He ran a vegetable stall, full of the same goods inside our house. He held onto a long stick that acted like a cane for his old hunched back.
It seemed metal was really precious in this village. I could only find pieces of rusty metal composed into blades and convenient daggers hooked onto their clothes. Some parts of the metal were chipped from its frequent use while the dull edges resembled wooden planks.
"Why are you here, Olive?" Mr. Jenkins scoffed.
I wondered why Olive chose to help him first. Mr. Jenkins seemed to be a person with tons of pride as he tried to intimidate us with his stare. He didn't let us inside his stall and faced us like we were his customers. Was this how he treated those he known for a long time?
"We're here to fix your old dagger," I answered for Olive.
He finally took out his old, rusty dagger covered with dirt and various weeds out of his boot. He was probably right that it would be better to buy a new one than to try to spend a huge amount of time to fix it back to its former glory.
"Can you really fix this?" He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"She can," I gestured towards Olive who was behind me.
Olive reluctantly walked in front of me to appraise the dagger. Mr. Jenkins became a bit impatient as he harrumphed when Olive wouldn't stop staring to find if she could fix it. When Olive finally noticed his irritation, she faintly blushed before reaching out her hands for the dagger.
Mr. Jenkins hesitantly passed his dagger into Olive's hand from my unrelenting stare like he hoped Olive wouldn't ruin it further. I knew we wouldn't get anywhere with how shy Olive was acting and how overpowering Mr. Jenkins wanted to give the illusion to young children. Olive needed a push for everything to unravel from thereon.
I smiled as Olive immediately began to rub the metal with the dirt on the ground like before. Her raw hands dextrously did its work as the red iron was soon scr.a.p.ed off and drifted onto the floor. The rough edges were sharp as a brand new sword after she swiftly scratched the surface with her hard dagger.
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The wooden stalls were lined up to create a pathway for its customers. There was everything I imagined from small accessory shops made from wool to food stalls and ingredients. It reminded me of the time where I explored the carnival with Mill.
I wondered how Mill was doing now or the rebels in the capitol. I never got any news back from how the mission went. I knew Belle and Lucius would have been successful, but it couldn't be exactly a good thing for the commoners under the nobles.
I was brought back to reality from the loud yells from the stall owners to attract more customers with all their unique goods displayed in the open. Wasn't this what I expected to see? A colourful world of different classes mixed to present an entire new world?
I sniffed the air full of roasting meat from different stalls. My eyes glittered from the sight as I was about to leave both Luke and Olive to go to the nearest stall. But Luke held onto my wrist as he frowned. Did we not have enough money? I was sure the school provided some to make sure we seamlessly blended in.
"What?" I asked.
"We have enough food at home."
"We only have those tasteless fruits," I whined.
"Just one skewer," I pulled on his sleeve.
When Luke shook his head, I stomped my feet in response while pouting. I wondered why he was being so stingy with our money. He was a person who didn't look at price tags while shopping at the mall. Why did he suddenly change?
"It's not fair how you have the control over all the money," I complained.
"Do you want me to buy it for you?" Olive interrupted us.
"Really?" I grabbed both her hands with gratitude.
"It's really fine. We have many things to eat at home, right Rika?" Luke warned me.
I knew this time Luke was trying to prevent me from eating the food. He probably thought the food was going to cause something like a stomach ache since it was cooked from mere villagers. Just like the time he didn't let me eat the strawberry milk from the vending machine.
"What are you talking about? We only have fruits and vegetables, so I'm going to accept Olive's offer," I glared at him.
"And your vocaloid supply in the first district?" Luke whispered inside my ear.
I gritted my teeth as I recalled the feeling of betrayal from the fraction I joined. There was nothing I could do about my supply that Luke knew about. I reluctantly gave up on a stick of meat for the safety of my collection.
"Luke is right, I forgot there is enough food at home. Maybe next time," I sadly mumbled.
"So who needs the help?" I turned to her to change the topic.
"Mr. Jenkins with his old dagger to help uproot his vegetable fields," she pointed at an old man.
The man had a long white beard that almost reached his chest. He wore the same traditional shirt and trousers like the many beside him. He ran a vegetable stall, full of the same goods inside our house. He held onto a long stick that acted like a cane for his old hunched back.
It seemed metal was really precious in this village. I could only find pieces of rusty metal composed into blades and convenient daggers hooked onto their clothes. Some parts of the metal were chipped from its frequent use while the dull edges resembled wooden planks.
"Why are you here, Olive?" Mr. Jenkins scoffed.
I wondered why Olive chose to help him first. Mr. Jenkins seemed to be a person with tons of pride as he tried to intimidate us with his stare. He didn't let us inside his stall and faced us like we were his customers. Was this how he treated those he known for a long time?
"We're here to fix your old dagger," I answered for Olive.
He finally took out his old, rusty dagger covered with dirt and various weeds out of his boot. He was probably right that it would be better to buy a new one than to try to spend a huge amount of time to fix it back to its former glory.
"Can you really fix this?" He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"She can," I gestured towards Olive who was behind me.
Olive reluctantly walked in front of me to appraise the dagger. Mr. Jenkins became a bit impatient as he harrumphed when Olive wouldn't stop staring to find if she could fix it. When Olive finally noticed his irritation, she faintly blushed before reaching out her hands for the dagger.
Mr. Jenkins hesitantly passed his dagger into Olive's hand from my unrelenting stare like he hoped Olive wouldn't ruin it further. I knew we wouldn't get anywhere with how shy Olive was acting and how overpowering Mr. Jenkins wanted to give the illusion to young children. Olive needed a push for everything to unravel from thereon.
I smiled as Olive immediately began to rub the metal with the dirt on the ground like before. Her raw hands dextrously did its work as the red iron was soon scr.a.p.ed off and drifted onto the floor. The rough edges were sharp as a brand new sword after she swiftly scratched the surface with her hard dagger.
The wooden stalls were lined up to create a pathway for its customers. There was everything I imagined from small accessory shops made from wool to food stalls and ingredients. It reminded me of the time where I explored the carnival with Mill. I wondered how Mill was doing now or the rebels in the capitol. I never got any news back from how the mission went. I knew Belle and Lucius would have been successful, but it couldn't be exactly a good thing for the commoners under the nobles. I was brought back to reality from the loud yells from the stall owners to attract more customers with all their unique goods displayed in the open. Wasn't this what I expected to see? A colourful world of different classes mixed to present an entire new world? I sniffed the air full of roasting meat from different stalls. My eyes glittered from the sight as I was about to leave both Luke and Olive to go to the nearest stall. But Luke held onto my wrist as he frowned. Did we not have enough money? I was sure the school provided some to make sure we seamlessly blended in. "What?" I asked. "We have enough food at home." "We only have those tasteless fruits," I whined. "Just one skewer," I pulled on his sleeve. When Luke shook his head, I stomped my feet in response while pouting. I wondered why he was being so stingy with our money. He was a person who didn't look at price tags while shopping at the mall. Why did he suddenly change? "It's not fair how you have the control over all the money," I complained. "Do you want me to buy it for you?" Olive interrupted us. "Really?" I grabbed both her hands with gratitude. "It's really fine. We have many things to eat at home, right Rika?" Luke warned me. I knew this time Luke was trying to prevent me from eating the food. He probably thought the food was going to cause something like a stomach ache since it was cooked from mere villagers. Just like the time he didn't let me eat the strawberry milk from the vending machine. "What are you talking about? We only have fruits and vegetables, so I'm going to accept Olive's offer," I glared at him. "And your vocaloid supply in the first district?" Luke whispered inside my ear. I gritted my teeth as I recalled the feeling of betrayal from the fraction I joined. There was nothing I could do about my supply that Luke knew about. I reluctantly gave up on a stick of meat for the safety of my collection. "Luke is right, I forgot there is enough food at home. Maybe next time," I sadly mumbled. "So who needs the help?" I turned to her to change the topic. "Mr. Jenkins with his old dagger to help uproot his vegetable fields," she pointed at an old man. The man had a long white beard that almost reached his chest. He wore the same traditional shirt and trousers like the many beside him. He ran a vegetable stall, full of the same goods inside our house. He held onto a long stick that acted like a cane for his old hunched back. It seemed metal was really precious in this village. I could only find pieces of rusty metal composed into blades and convenient daggers hooked onto their clothes. Some parts of the metal were chipped from its frequent use while the dull edges resembled wooden planks. "Why are you here, Olive?" Mr. Jenkins scoffed. I wondered why Olive chose to help him first. Mr. Jenkins seemed to be a person with tons of pride as he tried to intimidate us with his stare. He didn't let us inside his stall and faced us like we were his customers. Was this how he treated those he known for a long time? "We're here to fix your old dagger," I answered for Olive. He finally took out his old, rusty dagger covered with dirt and various weeds out of his boot. He was probably right that it would be better to buy a new one than to try to spend a huge amount of time to fix it back to its former glory. "Can you really fix this?" He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "She can," I gestured towards Olive who was behind me. Olive reluctantly walked in front of me to appraise the dagger. Mr. Jenkins became a bit impatient as he harrumphed when Olive wouldn't stop staring to find if she could fix it. When Olive finally noticed his irritation, she faintly blushed before reaching out her hands for the dagger. Mr. Jenkins hesitantly passed his dagger into Olive's hand from my unrelenting stare like he hoped Olive wouldn't ruin it further. I knew we wouldn't get anywhere with how shy Olive was acting and how overpowering Mr. Jenkins wanted to give the illusion to young children. Olive needed a push for everything to unravel from thereon. I smiled as Olive immediately began to rub the metal with the dirt on the ground like before. Her raw hands dextrously did its work as the red iron was soon scr.a.p.ed off and drifted onto the floor. The rough edges were sharp as a brand new sword after she swiftly scratched the surface with her hard dagger.
