Chương 138: Noodle Shop

In truth, all of it worked entirely in Lloyd's favor. A small team — exactly what he needed right now, probably the ideal option out of everything that could have possibly come his way in this chaotic, perpetually humming city. Against Shadow-rank monsters, he simply didn't need a large team, even considering they were in a fairly dangerous region where an unpleasant surprise could lurk around any corner.

A small, inconspicuous group would be more than enough to watch each other's backs if needed, while also avoiding drawing unnecessary, unwanted attention — and attention, as Lloyd had come to understand recently, tended to bring far more trouble than it was worth.

On top of that, he possessed a mythical True Name — he didn't fully understand what that meant or what consequences such a rarity might carry, but of one thing he was absolutely certain, as though the knowledge had been etched right under his skin since the moment of his Awakening.

"The fewer eyes that see me, the better for me." This chance was a good one for him — no, the best of all possible options. Turning down an offer like this would simply be foolish, given the circumstances, and honestly, if he was being truly honest with himself, Lloyd had felt genuinely lonely wandering these unfamiliar streets all by himself, even if he wasn't in any hurry to admit that out loud.

A faint note of sadness flickered in Lloyd's eyes for a moment, his gaze drifting off to the side, toward a dark, barely noticeable alley between two buildings, as though he'd sunk once again into memories he would have preferred to leave behind, buried deep in his mind where they belonged.

"Besides, someone needs to finally see at least one task through to the end," he thought, trying not to dwell on that idea for too long, as if afraid it would drag along a whole string of other, far less pleasant thoughts with it.

The corners of Brand's mouth nearly reached his ears, and his head itself flared up brighter than before, the flames dancing more cheerfully than usual, scattering small sparks around him that looked like fireflies, and Lloyd could clearly feel the heat radiating off him on his own face, even standing a short distance away. It was obvious that Brand himself hadn't fully believed Lloyd would actually agree to such a venture, and that genuine, almost childlike joy warmed something inside Lloyd as well.

— Just awesome! He thrust out a fist, clearly going for a friendly gesture, but it flared with such intense flame that Lloyd instinctively squinted against the bright light and took a couple of steps back, raising a hand to shield his face, while a nearby group of passersby turned to look at them in surprise. Brand's grin immediately lost some of its sincerity, replaced by a flash of embarrassment, the fire on his face seeming to shrink in on itself, as though caught off guard.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. — Oh, sorry. The flame around his fist noticeably died down, becoming far more modest, barely visible, and the heat dropped to a pleasant, moderate warmth, the kind you'd feel holding your hand toward a campfire from a safe distance.

Lloyd held out his own fist as well, and they carefully bumped knuckles — this time without any unpleasant consequences, aside from Lloyd's palm retaining a faint, pleasant warmth for a couple of seconds afterward, slowly dissolving into the cool evening air. After that, Brand stepped around behind Lloyd and waved a hand, already starting to move away with a quick, almost bouncing stride. — Well, I'm in a hurry, see you around. We'll meet tomorrow by Blackwood, at three-thirty.

Brand ran off without even waiting for a response, without so much as asking whether Lloyd would actually be able to make it at the appointed time — he simply took off at a brisk walk, then broke into a run, and vanished around the nearest corner, flashing like a bright streak through the crowd of passersby, leaving behind nothing but a faint trail of warmth dissolving in the air and a light smell of scorched wood.

Lloyd silently waved back at Brand's retreating figure, even though the man clearly couldn't see it anymore, then let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head and smiling faintly to himself despite it all.

"Blackwood? What even is that, never heard of it," he thought, unsuccessfully trying to recall anything that might fit that name among the scraps of information he'd managed to gather over the past few days, spent in this world after a long absence.

He glanced up at the sky, where far more stars had come out by now than before — thin, barely visible points of light showing through the thinning haze of the city's glow, twinkling at one another somewhere high above — and set off unhurriedly through the city once more, past more signs and shop windows, no longer paying much attention to what they displayed, lost in thoughts about tomorrow's meeting.

A late courier on a hoverboard zipped past, nearly clipping a passerby's shoulder, a train rumbled somewhere in the distance once again, and from a half-open window in one of the buildings drifted the fragments of someone's quiet music — something slow, drawn-out, utterly at odds with the city's otherwise relentless pace.

A few steps further on, his eyes caught a small stall, which, judging by the sign and the steam rising from it, sold noodles — steaming, giving off a thick, incredibly appetizing aroma, mixed with notes of garlic and some spice Lloyd couldn't quite place on the first whiff.

His stomach immediately betrayed him with a loud growl, loud enough that he felt a flicker of embarrassment, even though there was no one nearby paying any attention — except for a boy running past with a tray, who shot him a brief, teasing glance.

Rubbing his stomach with one hand, he looked back at the stall, where a short, hunched-over cook bustled about behind the counter, deftly working a pair of long chopsticks over a steaming pot, sending up billows of fragrant steam every so often that made Lloyd's jaw clench involuntarily.

"Wouldn't hurt," Lloyd thought, feeling a genuine, completely unguarded craving build inside him to finally eat a proper meal, instead of grabbing something on the run the way he usually had these past few days, filled with scrambling between islands and brief, hurried rests.

He walked toward the stall with slow steps, his mouth gradually filling with saliva, nearly overflowing at the sight of the cook deftly scooping up another portion of steaming noodles and lowering it smoothly into a bowl, generously topping it with herbs and something dark, resembling soy sauce, glinting in the light of the little lantern hanging over the counter, swaying gently in the light evening breeze.