Alex looked at the bag of bread on the table and reached out to touch it.
The journey back had been quite long, coupled with the cold wind, so the bread had lost its warmth, and the crust had begun to harden.
"Yes."
Alex jumped down from the chair and put the newly bought bread into the rickety wooden cupboard, leaving out only the portion for tonight's dinner. He intentionally left out a loaf of the hardest black bread; he was truly too curious about the mystical power Gary had displayed that night. Although Alex knew curiosity was not a good quality in the dangerous Extraordinary World, he still wanted to test it out.
Gary had no idea of Alex's plan. The little boy was landing on the table, his large round eyes staring greedily at the jar of blueberry jam. After becoming a spirit, the boy no longer had a way to eat or drink like before, nor could he taste flavors, which made it a bit hard for the little guy to accept.
Fortunately, Alex had a very deep connection with the boy through the contract; the sensations Alex felt, the boy could also feel exactly the same, including taste.
[Hurry up, Alex, eat quickly.]
Gary looked at the blueberry jam, smacking his small lips, drool about to flow down; he flew around the jar of jam like a little bee.
But Alex didn't know what he was doing; he just held a loaf of rock-hard black bread in his hand, turning it over and over, revealing an expression with mischievous intent.
Gary watched him approach, and suddenly Alex stuffed the loaf of bread into Gary's arms.
"Gary, how did you turn the croissant into wheat last time? Perform it again for me to see." He said in one long breath, his eyes full of expectation. Gary blinked, understanding Alex's teasing purpose.
The boy shook his head resolutely, hugging the loaf of bread tightly and refusing to let go.
"No? Why not? I just want to see a little magic."
[Doing that is very tiring.] The little spirit protested, transmitting the thought into Alex's head.
Although the boy did not know what that power ultimately represented, mobilizing a power that reversed natural laws was truly incredibly exhausting. It felt like being drained of strength; just turning the croissant into wheat and a calf, then turning it back into bread last time, had tired the boy to death, requiring him to sleep soundly for several days to recover.
"Is that so." Alex pouted regretfully. He took back the loaf of bread and brought it to his mouth, taking a forceful bite.
With a *crunch*, the dry bread crust shattered. The scent of wheat mingled with the characteristic burnt smell of over-baking spread through his oral cavity.
Usually, the taste of black bread fresh from the oven on the same day was average; on the second day, it could still be swallowed if there was hot soup; on the third day, it needed to be soaked in water to soften; by the fourth or fifth day, it was no different from a murder weapon and could be used to bash a burglar's head.
Gary saw that Alex had finally started eating and crept two steps closer, his tiny finger pointing at the jar of jam on the table with a pleading look.
Alex saw the boy's movement and understood that he wanted to taste the sweetness, but he deliberately ignored it, pretending to focus on chewing the dry bread. Gary got anxious; he flew up, hovering before Alex's eyes, then dove down, landing in front of the jam jar, waving his arms and legs wildly to attract Alex's attention.
Alex chuckled, stopping his teasing of the boy. He took out the prepared dinner knife and the slices of soft white bread bought only for holidays.
"You can't even eat it, why the rush?"
Gary babbled, staring wide-eyed at the snow-white bread, pointing at Alex, then pointing at himself, signaling "if you eat, I eat."
If Alex ate, it meant the boy could eat too, sensing that flavor.
"Hmph." Alex said as he opened the lid of the jam jar: "This small mouth knows how to talk quite a bit, huh."
Gary froze, the smile on his lips vanishing. He pointed to his own throat, then pointed to his ears, then shook his head frantically with a sad look.
Only then did Alex belatedly realize he had misspoken and touched upon the boy's pain.
When Gary was human, he could not hear, nor did he know how to speak; the boy's world had always been silent.
Alex's movements paused. He felt regretful and reached out to rub Gary's soft hair: "Sorry, I didn't mean to."
Gary blinked. The sadness passed very quickly; he pointed at the jar of jam again, urging Alex.
Alex smiled softly. He dipped the bread into a layer of dark purple jam and brought it to his mouth. The moment the rich sweet and sour taste of the blueberry jam exploded in his mouth, blending with the nutty taste of the white bread, Gary's eyes suddenly widened, sparkling with starlight, revealing an expression of ecstatic happiness.
Alex silently watched the little spirit's smile. Gary's joy came so simply, just from a bit of shared sweetness. He suddenly felt very bitter, a bitterness that even the sweetness of the jam in his mouth could not soothe.
Associating this with what Elias had once said, Gary's voice and hearing had been stolen by some force.
Who was it that cruelly stole those basic senses from a child? What could those things possibly bring to that person?
Gary also sensed the change in Alex's mood through the bond. He flew over, tugging at the young man's scarf, then pointed at the fruit jam again as if to comfort him.
Sweets could make a person feel happy; Gary believed so.
Alex wanted to make this little guy a bit happier, so pushing aside the gloomy thoughts, he scooped another large spoonful of jam, spread it on the slice of bread, and stuffed large bites into his mouth, enjoying this rare sweetness.
The consequence of doing this was that he ate until he was stuffed, his belly round. After eating one's fill, people tend to become lazy and sleepy. Alex sprawled on the bed, feeling his eyelids grow heavy, not wanting to move at all.
But he did not forget that today he still had important business to attend to; he could not sleep.
Elias was also waiting for him to execute the next step of the plan.