[EXP +3]
Huh?
Chen Mo froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, staring at the progress bar that had climbed to 11/100 while he squatted at a roadside stall slurping noodles.
He hadn't fought Penguin Logistics at all. They'd barely exchanged a few words—so how did that give him experience?
Maybe it was because those three were original in-game characters. Like unlocking an NPC entry in a compendium—talk to them a few times and you got a reward.
"Well, that's a pleasant surprise."
He finished the remaining noodles in a few quick mouthfuls, then waved at the stall owner.
"Boss, one more bowl, please."
"Oh?" The Cautus uncle looked at the stack of empty bowls beside Chen Mo and chuckled. "You've got an appetite. That's good—men who eat well have good fortune."
Then the uncle lowered his voice, concern creeping in.
"Say, handsome young man… once you're done, you should leave this area. I hear the local gang's been getting bold lately. A beauty like you is in danger around here."
Chen Mo nodded obediently, not arguing.
But then something occurred to him. His fingers brushed his pocket—empty and flat—and his expression tightened.
Crap.
For the past month, he'd been fed and housed. Today he'd been in a good mood and completely forgot the key detail:
He didn't have a single coin on him.
A flicker of panic rose—yet his flawless face didn't show it. He slowed down on purpose and asked casually,
"Boss, do you ever get punks coming around here? You know—collecting 'protection fees' or anything?"
"Uh… not really," the uncle said after thinking it over. He shook his head. "Aside from the occasional dine-and-dash, they don't usually do that kind of thing in broad daylight."
Chen Mo's eye twitched.
He didn't say anything. He just started scanning the crowd like his life depended on it.
No. No. Still no.
Aside from a few civilians who stopped and stared at his looks, he couldn't spot a single gang member.
It was all ordinary people. None of those swaggering idiots who liked to flirt at him with their noses in the air—none of them in sight.
For once, Chen Mo wanted to run into those sleazy female thugs.
The stall owner, completely unaware of Chen Mo's internal crisis, took Chen Mo's question as an invitation to chat and kept going.
"I think that gang's called… the Hungry Wolves? Yeah, something like that. Funny thing is, since more of them started showing up on the streets, you don't see the old days—random mass brawls in the open—nearly as much."
He sighed, then added sincerely,
"But no matter how 'well-behaved' they seem, it's still a nest of scum. Kid, you're too good-looking. Don't ever get mixed up with them."
"Haha… sure. Definitely," Chen Mo said, forcing an awkward laugh.
Then he fell quiet, wrestling with the same question over and over.
Should he just come clean?
A small sound interrupted him.
"Gulp…"
At some point, a child had wandered up and was now standing beside him, eyes fixed on the bowl of noodles like it was the most precious thing in the world.
Chen Mo glanced at the boy's clean face and the faded clothes washed nearly white. Without hesitation, he held out his bowl—still more than half full.
"Want some?"
"Yeah!" The boy beamed at him. "Big brother, you're really nice!"
He took the bowl without ceremony and started wolfing it down.
And then Chen Mo noticed the back of the boy's hand—
a conspicuous black crystal.
"Infected?"
The boy went rigid, as if he'd heard something terrifying. His eyes turned timid, flicking up to Chen Mo's face, watching for disgust—watching for rejection.
Chen Mo raised an eyebrow.
"What are you looking at me for? Don't want to eat anymore?"
The impossibly pretty big brother didn't show the revulsion other people always did.
The boy visibly relaxed. Then he sat down beside Chen Mo and kept eating—finally able to enjoy a rare meal in peace.
"Poor kid," the stall owner murmured.
"You know him?" Chen Mo asked. He ruffled the boy's hair, unconcerned by the infection, then looked up curiously. "Why's he alone? And he's a boy."
This was Hungry Wolves territory. A child—especially a boy—without adult protection was dangerously exposed.
The Cautus uncle let out a long sigh.
"His mother's a gambling piece of trash. His father's always running around trying to pay debts—he's in and out of places under the Hungry Wolves all the time."
He paused, voice softening.
"We're neighbors. When his dad's not around, people on this street try to look after him a little."
Then, belatedly remembering the stigma, the uncle added,
"Oh, and—sir, the boy's sick. You should probably keep your distance."
Chen Mo waved it off.
He was a Draco. As long as he didn't do something suicidal like Talulah, close contact like this wouldn't mean anything.
Right now, he needed to think about the far more immediate problem:
How was he going to pay?
"Stay away from my son!"
CRASH—
A table leg scraped. Bowls and chopsticks clattered across the ground.
A man lunged from behind, but Chen Mo slipped aside with a simple twist of his body, avoiding the tackle.
Chen Mo frowned.
"Be careful. What if you hurt the kid?"
The man had already snatched the boy into his arms, clutching him tight. He was shaking head to toe—but still glaring at Chen Mo with vicious, frantic eyes.
Chen Mo studied him for a moment, then stroked his chin in sudden realization.
"Wait. You're the guy from the bar yesterday who was—" He coughed once. "…Never mind."
The man—pretty-featured, but pale with fear—bit his lip, trembling. When he saw Chen Mo had no intention of striking back, he grabbed the boy's hand and bolted.
The child looked back, cheeks puffed in grievance.
"Dad, I didn't finish…"
Chen Mo watched the two figures shrink into the distance, then scratched one of his horns, baffled.
"Do I really look that scary?"
He was just a hired hand. How terrified of the Hungry Wolves did that man have to be to react like that?
The Cautus uncle walked up and patted Chen Mo's shoulder, then sighed in the direction the father and son had gone.
"Don't take it to heart, kid. He's probably been… going through a lot lately."
He hesitated, then offered,
"How about this? I'll comp the meal."
"…Really?" Chen Mo's eyes lit up. "That's great! Boss, you're a good man!"
Just like that, Chen Mo tossed aside all his earlier worry. His mood loosened. He flashed the uncle a brilliant smile that made even the worn-down little stall seem brighter.
He'd almost blurted out the truth about himself.
Good thing he didn't.
This uncle was decent. If he could help it, Chen Mo didn't want to scare him the way that man had been scared.
He brushed the dirt off his trousers, picked up the box Penguin Logistics had delivered, and waved with a cheerful smile.
"See you, boss. Next time I'll come back for noodles."
"Hahaha," the uncle laughed, waving him off. "Don't you dare. A beauty like you shouldn't keep coming to places like this."
Chen Mo nodded happily, his thick draconic tail swinging behind him as he strolled toward the address Hungry Wolf had given.
Lately, good things really had been happening.
The Cautus uncle. Running into Penguin Logistics.
And even the fact that he had to go see that pervert Hungry Wolf next—
suddenly didn't feel quite as unbearable.
-------
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