That night, after dinner, Johnny didn't retreat to his room immediately. He waited until his father had finished tallying the small cash book, its pages scarred with red ink.
Johnny reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled wad of bills and coins he had received from Uncle Drove. He placed it on the table, setting it directly atop his father's ledger.
"Here, Dad. Mom," Johnny said softly.
Garrick and Marilla stared at the pile of money in silence. 650 Gil. It wasn't a small sum. It was equivalent to the workshop's profit for three full days during a busy spell.
"Johnny..." Garrick's eyes widened, then sharpened as he looked at his son. "You... you didn't do anything dangerous, did you? Uncle Drove didn't put you up to stealing Shinra cables, right?"
Johnny shook his head calmly. "No, Dad. Uncle Drove just got a massive shipment of scrap from Sector 6. He needed someone small to squeeze into the tight gaps and sort out the copper. That's just pay for hard work."
The lie slid out smoothly. Guts knew how to bury the truth to preserve the peace of mind of others.
Marilla reached for the money with trembling hands. "This is so much, son... Don't you want to keep it? Buy some new toys or comics?"
"I don't need toys," Johnny replied, his gaze softening as he looked at his mother. "Just use it for the market tomorrow. I want to eat meat again. Your soup would taste even better with some real meat in it."
Marilla smiled through the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. Garrick ruffled Johnny's hair with his large hand. "You're growing up too fast, kid. Thank you. We'll put this to good use."
That night, Johnny went to sleep with a strange sense of satisfaction. Slaughtering a hundred demons had never granted him peace quite like this.