The first rays of dawn crept through the cracks of Xian's curtains, painting his small room with soft golden hues. The distant chatter of Lungmen's waking streets served as a natural alarm. Xian groaned, sitting up in bed as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. With a stretch that sent faint cracks through his spine, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.
He began his morning with a series of stretches, his body loosening after a night's rest. The familiar routine brought a sense of focus and calm, his mind settling into the day ahead. After the stretches came his exercises-push-ups, squats, and other bodyweight movements to maintain his stamina.
Finished with the basics, Xian transitioned into his swordsmanship training. He retrieved a sword-a simple, self-crafted blade balanced for practice-and began. The movements were precise yet fluid, each swing deliberate as he honed his form. The blade whispered through the air as he executed strikes, blocks, and counters, all drilled from muscle memory.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he set the sword aside. Now came the harder part-his ability.
Standing in the center of his workshop-like room, Xian raised his hands, focusing his mind. A small assortment of items lay scattered on the table: screws, springs, and small plates of metal. He inhaled deeply, extending his will toward the objects. Slowly, they began to rise, trembling slightly as they floated in the air. Xian guided them with careful movements, assembling and disassembling configurations.
"I still don't know what to call this," he muttered, frowning. He felt the strain as his focus wavered for a moment, the items clattering back onto the table. "It's impressive, sure, but so limited. I can only work with what's here... no material, no modifications, no ability."
His gaze drifted to the modified gun he had worked on earlier. He picked it up, his fingers running over the smooth metal frame. It had been enhanced with a custom mechanism to improve its handling and firing speed. It worked well, but he wasn't satisfied. He wanted more-needed more.
After some adjustments to his gun, he turned to his sword and began refining it further, adding minor tweaks to its balance and grip. Tools scraped and clicked in the otherwise quiet room. Eventually, he sighed, setting everything down. His stomach growled, reminding him that it was time to clean up and eat.
Just as Xian grabbed a towel to head to the bathroom, a sudden knock on the front door echoed through the house.
Then came the voices.
Xian paused, tilting his head as he caught snippets of a commotion outside. He frowned. "The kids?" he murmured, tossing the towel onto the chair.
Making his way to the door, Xian swung it open to find the six children from last night huddled together. They froze at the sight of him, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and apprehension.
The girl he had grabbed last night-the one with dog-like ears and a tail-stepped forward hesitantly. Her small hands fidgeted with the hem of her ragged shirt as she mustered the courage to speak.
"G-Good morning, sir," she stammered. "W-We're here... for the work you mentioned."
Her voice trembled slightly, but she managed to keep her composure. The other children exchanged nervous glances, some looking down at the ground, too scared to meet Xian's gaze.
Xian's eyes swept over them, noting their worn clothes and dirt-streaked faces. He sighed inwardly but didn't let his expression soften. "Come in," he said simply, stepping aside.
The children hesitated, their movements stiff and cautious as they entered. Xian didn't wait for them to get comfortable. He gestured toward the living room.
"Sit there. There's bread and hot water in the jug. Chocolate powder and milk powder are nearby. Help yourselves."
The girl nodded quickly, leading the others to the living room as Xian turned to head to the bathroom.
"Wait!"
The sudden voice stopped him in his tracks. One of the boys-short and scrappy-looking-stepped forward, his arms crossed. "Why are you so calm? Aren't you afraid we might steal something?"
A girl next to him, likely the group's youngest, tugged on his sleeve. "Don't-" she whispered, trying to stop him.
Xian turned his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "There's nothing worth stealing," he replied nonchalantly, continuing toward the bathroom.
The boy scowled. "What about all those tools and stuff? They look valuable!"
"Those have no real value," Xian called back without breaking stride. "Unless you know how to use them, they're just scrap metal."
The girl gave up whispering and promptly smacked the boy on the head. "Stop being rude!" she scolded, her voice high-pitched with frustration.
"Ow! What was that for?!" the boy yelped, rubbing the back of his head.
"Idiot!" she hissed.
Xian chuckled quietly to himself as he entered the bathroom, the sounds of their bickering fading behind him. Turning on the water, he splashed his face and let his thoughts wander. Despite the chaotic start to the morning, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of amusement. These kids, despite their tough exteriors, were still just that-kids.
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Drying his face with a towel, Xian sighed. His life was becoming more complicated by the day. "Guess I'll figure it out as I go," he muttered, heading back to face his new 'employees.'
After finishing his bath, Xian grabbed a clean set of clothes and got dressed. He stepped out of the bathroom and made his way to the living room. The sight that greeted him made him pause—six kids seated around his table, hunched over plates, munching with ferocity as though the food might disappear at any second.
When they noticed him, there was a brief moment of tension. They froze mid-chew, staring at him like startled animals. But their hunger quickly overpowered their unease, and they resumed eating, albeit at a slower pace.
Xian couldn't help but chuckle. The sound drew their attention, and Elisa, the white-haired Lupo girl who seemed to take charge, straightened up and asked, "Mister, what kind of work are we going to do?" Her tone was polite, but her light blue eyes betrayed a flicker of nervousness.
The mention of "work" caused a ripple of anxiety among the kids. Some glanced at each other uneasily, while others shifted in their seats. Xian observed their reactions, his mind piecing together bits of information based on their body language and behavior. He concluded that their instinctive response likely came from past experiences—perhaps petty theft or odd, less-than-legal jobs they'd been forced into to survive.
"You'll know soon enough," Xian replied with a calm tone. "But first, you all need a proper bath."
Their eyes widened in surprise, and murmurs broke out. Xian moved towards the door, but Nia, the soft-spoken rabbit-eared girl, hesitated before speaking. "W-Where are you going?" she asked timidly, her amber eyes full of worry.
Xian stopped, meeting her gaze. "Just running an errand. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. There are towels near the bathroom door. Make sure you all clean up properly."
Without waiting for a response, Xian stepped outside, shutting the door behind him.
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As soon as Xian left, Elisa clapped her hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, everyone, you heard him. We should get cleaned up before Mister Xian gets back."
Rico, the scrappy boy with brown furred ears, crossed his arms and leaned back with a scoff. "Yeah, right. Like I'd trust some fancy guy who thinks he's better than us. Bet he's just like the others—telling us to do stuff for free or kicking us out when he's done."
"Stop being such a pessimist," Finn, the clever boy with fox-like features, retorted. "He didn't kick us out, did he? Besides, why would he bother giving us food if he wanted to toss us aside?"
"Maybe it's bait," Mira, the timid cat-eared girl, whispered nervously. "What if he's planning something… something bad?" Her green eyes darted between the others. "Like making us work all day without any food or even worse..."
"T-That's not going to happen!" Tobi, the optimistic wolf-like boy, declared loudly, jumping to his feet. "I'll make sure it doesn't! If he tries anything, I'll distract him! Maybe I'll juggle his tools or... or make funny faces!" He demonstrated a ridiculous expression, puffing out his cheeks and sticking out his tongue.
"That's... not a plan," Finn said, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"Guys, stop overthinking!" Mira's voice wavered, though she managed to sound firm. "We don't know anything yet, so let's not assume the worst. We'll face whatever happens together. That's what we always do, right?"
Her words brought a moment of quiet to the group. Even Rico seemed to soften, though he didn't say anything.
Elisa watched them with a solemn expression. Her white ears twitched, and she finally spoke in a calm but determined voice. "If it comes down to it, I'll take responsibility. Whatever Mister Xian is planning, I'll face him first. You guys shouldn't get involved if it's dangerous."
Her declaration sent shockwaves through the group. Mira gasped, clutching Elisa's arm. "No! You can't!"
"Yeah, we're not letting you take the fall for us!" Rico growled. "You're not going to be some kind of sacrifice or something. That's stupid."
"We're sticking together," Tobi said firmly, nodding along with Finn and Mira.
Elisa smiled faintly at their reactions. "Thanks, but that's exactly why we need to stick to what Mister Xian asked us to do. Let's take a bath and wait for him to come back."
They exchanged reluctant glances but eventually nodded in agreement.
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The group made their way to the bathroom one by one, taking turns. Finn muttered something about not wanting to smell like "the streets" anymore, which earned a few chuckles from the others. Mira hesitated before stepping inside, nervously asking if it was okay to use "fancy soap." Rico rolled his eyes but assured her that it was fine.
As the kids cleaned up, they began to feel a little more relaxed. The warm water and clean towels were a luxury they hadn't experienced in a long time. By the time they finished, their earlier tension had eased, replaced by curiosity and cautious optimism about what was to come.
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As Xian walked down the street, his thoughts churned with plans and preparations.
"Alright," he began mentally organizing, "priority one: find a suitable place for the restaurant shop. The last place was too small for anything big, so this time, it needs to be bigger, better, and closer to the heart of the city. I'll need to make sure it's safe too. Can't have Reunion tearing it apart before I even open."
He furrowed his brows. "Second: projects and materials. Need better equipment for crafting and reinforcing... especially if things go south with Reunion's attack. I've got four days—maybe a week if I'm lucky. Gotta stretch every coin to the last Originium shard."
Then his thoughts drifted to the potential chaos looming ahead. The incoming attack of Reunion wasn't something he could ignore. "Sure, I could just warn Ch'en and the LGD," he mused aloud, a wry smile tugging at his lips, "but let's be real. Best-case scenario, they don't believe me and laugh me out of the room. Worst-case?" He stopped in his tracks, imagining Ch'en's piercing glare as she slammed her sword down on a desk.
"'Where did you get this information?'" he muttered, mimicking her stern voice. "'Are you working with Reunion? Answer me before I lock you up for obstructing justice!'" He shook his head, exasperated at his imaginary scenario.
"And just like that, I'd be Public Enemy Number One. Probably dragged to some LGD interrogation room while Ch'en points her sword at me like I stole her lunch money."
The thought made him sigh, his pace quickening as he imagined more absurd misunderstandings. "No thanks. I'd rather take my chances with Reunion than deal with that."
Xian eventually stopped at a small tailor shop tucked between larger buildings. The display outside showcased an array of colorful fabrics and neatly sewn outfits. Inside, the scent of thread and dye hung in the air.
"I'll take these," Xian said, pointing to several rolls of fabric in different colors, along with needles, thread, and other tools.
The shopkeeper, a middle-aged man with sharp eyes, gave Xian a curious glance. "Quite the assortment. Starting a new tailoring business?"
"Something like that," Xian replied vaguely, though he avoided meeting the man's gaze.
The shopkeeper nodded, though Xian could feel the man silently appraising him. After paying and awkwardly bundling up the supplies, Xian left the shop, balancing the bags in his arms.
Thirty minutes later, Xian found himself in the bustling commercial district. The building he entered was sleek and professional, with glass windows that sparkled in the sunlight. A receptionist at the front desk greeted him with a polite smile.
"I'd like to inquire about purchasing a building," Xian said.
The receptionist raised an eyebrow but maintained her professional demeanor. "Of course, sir. May I ask the purpose of your purchase?"
"Restaurant," Xian replied. "I'm planning to open a shop soon."
The receptionist nodded, typing into her computer. "We'll need some documentation first—citizen ID, birth certificate, proof of residence. Do you have those with you?"
Xian patted the small bag hanging at his right side, pulling out a neatly folded set of documents. "Got everything right here."
As the receptionist reviewed the papers, Xian couldn't help but remember how he'd acquired them.
It had been a grueling and slightly humiliating process. Ch'en, with her usual no-nonsense attitude, had reluctantly helped him secure the proper paperwork.
"I'll approve this," she had said, tapping her pen on her desk. "But there's one condition."
"Condition?" Xian had asked warily.
"Yes," Ch'en had said, a sly smirk appearing on her face. "You'll owe me a favor. And trust me, I'll collect when the time comes."
"Favor? What kind of—"
"You'll know when I ask." She had handed him the documents with a curt nod, leaving Xian to leave her office both relieved and apprehensive.
Now, standing in the real estate office, Xian broke into a cold sweat. "I'm really, really glad I didn't agree to anything specific that day," he muttered under his breath.
The process went surprisingly smoothly. After some discussion, the receptionist handed Xian a folder with detailed recommendations for properties that suited his needs.
"We suggest you visit the buildings personally to make your decision," she said, passing him a business card. "This number is for our office. Call us when you've made your choice."
"Thanks," Xian said, tucking the card into his pocket.
Exiting the real estate office, Xian glanced at his watch. "Better hurry back," he muttered, adjusting the bags of fabric and supplies he carried. The weight wasn't unbearable, but running with them wasn't exactly pleasant.
As he jogged through the streets, his mind wandered again to Reunion and the preparations he still had to make. The thought of crafting weapons, fortifying defenses, and creating contingency plans felt overwhelming.
"And then there's the kids..." he thought, a small smile forming. "Better make sure they're ready for whatever's coming too. They might not look like much now, but I've got a feeling they'll surprise me."
The bags swung against his sides as he picked up the pace, weaving through the busy streets of the city. His house wasn't far now, and he could already imagine the kids' reactions when they saw the new supplies.