《New Paris [a Modern-day LitRPG]》V1 - C23 - a Promise of Grilled Fish
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Five days had passed since that fight on the outskirts of Paris. During those three days, many things had happened. Cain had more-less gotten used to going outside, and I gave him a spare key to my flat so he could explore the city at his own pace. He’d walk me to and from the bus stop, and whenever I needed to leave the house, he’d always accompany me.
We had started talking about him coming to work with me, just in case, but that would entail either waking up an hour earlier, or taking the bus. The former didn’t work for me, as I needed my beauty sleep, and the latter wasn’t an option either since Cain didn’t feel comfortable sitting in a cramped space with a crowd of random strangers for half an hour.
But he was making progress, and, as I kept insisting, I wasn’t under any immediate threat.
“Look, there’s your favourite food there.” Cain said, as he pointed at the chicken nuggets in the frozen section of the convenience store we were in.
I rolled my eyes. One joke, one singe joke, almost a week ago, and he wasn’t going to ever let it go.
“Yes, I saw them. Now please pick some foods that look edible to you.” I said, trying to hide my exasperation.
I knew that kids didn’t like unfamiliar-looking dishes, but in Cain’s case, everything but the most basic things like soup and mashed potatoes were considered ‘unfamilar-looking’. He also refused to eat the pasties I stole form work every other time as apparently they just didn’t look right.
Trial and error had shown that it wasn’t about taste, as he’d gob down anything that came out of a blender, but eating those kinds of foods was not a long-term option, especially not for a child his age.
“Why is there meat here?” He asked, as he continued to walk down the frozen foods aisle.
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“It’s cheaper and can stay in storage for longer.” I explained, as I grabbed a few packs of frozen vegetables.
“You don’t eat meat.” Cain noted.
“I try to avoid it, especially the frozen kind. But I do eat charcutrie and some sandwich spreads. But if you want a steak, I can cook one for you. Can’t imagine it being hard.”
“No, I never really ate meat either.” He responded nonchalantly. “It doesn’t really feel right, eating something you can transform into.” He added softly.
I could have corrected him about how the meat sold here came from cows and chicken, and on occasion from edible monsters, but I decided to leave it be. Afterall, be seemed confident enough in knowing what he wanted.
“What about fish?” I answered, the alley of freezers we were walking down shifted its displays to frozen seafood.
“Yeah, it’s alright.” He answered, without much emotion.
“It’s aright in soup, or it’s alright on its own?” I asked.
If I remembered correctly, fish, or aquatic animals in general were not included in the list of things Cain could transform into.
He turned towards me with a thoughtful expression.
“It’s alright when it’s grilled. Freshly caught and grilled. Not dead for years and thawed before being served.”
“Gee, we can go to the fresh fish section then.” I sigh, as I gestured for him to follow. “Any other seafood that you like?”
“I’m not exactly sure what you mean by seafood. Do you intend to feed me water-grass and such?” He replied, with genuine confusion.
I decided that it was just easier to show him. We spent about twenty minutes at the fish equivalent of a boucherie, debating what to get. Thankfully the seller proved to be much more helpful than me in terms of explaining what shrimp, muscles, and other seafood tasted like, and we did leave that corner of the store with a hefty portion of local and wild-caught swordfish. Apparently, there was a fishery located in a Wild Land south of Paris, which came as somewhat as a surprise to both Cain and I.
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“We’re being followed.” Cain suddenly said.
It was around 8 in the evening, and we were walking home from the store. Autumn had already come, and despite it being not really all that late, it was dark, and a cold breeze was blowing through the streets of Paris. No one was out on an evening like this, where the prospect of rain was as uncertain as the time of the next monster attack, and the beginning of a new scholar year had confined most folk indoors. Well, considering the neighbourhood I lived in, that didn’t concern the party people, who were out and about as usual, leaving only the occasional alleyway fully deserted of their presence, and the bundles of lost tourists, who just didn’t seem to be able to find the red light district.
“Are you sure it’s not just someone going the same way?” I asked.
It’s not that I didn’t trust Cain, but more so that I didn’t trust his assessment of a situation like this, after spending so few days in the city.
“Would someone like that hide behind poles and in alleyways, all while staring at you intensely?” Cain retorted.
“Urgh, probably just some creep.” I said.
I had had a lot of time to think these past few days, about all the attacks I seemed to find myself in the centre of. The logical part of me told me that it was all just some sort of coincidence, and that, to be fair, I had thrown myself into a handful of those. But, the attack at the Park, which hadn’t been reported to the police for obvious reasons, didn’t fit into that pattern of randomness (so to speak).
“On second thought, can you go check it out?” I asked Cain.
He nodded, and discreetly vanished was we passed a street corner. I walked a few more meters ahead, before stopping and waiting for him. I wasn’t sure he remembered the way home yet.
A few minutes passed before he returned. His serious expression told me immediately that something was wrong.
“I think this is an organised attack. That person was a buffer, with a heavy shadow attribute. A support agent that wouldn’t work on its own. There are more nearby, likely casters. In this kind of environment physical attributes are at a disadvantage.”
“What’s a buffer?” I asked, waiting for the information that I was being trailed by several individuals sink in.
“You know, like the class.” Cain said, as he looked at me with confusion.
“There is no such class as far as I’m aware.” I shook my head. “But that’s not important. Let’s get home and make dinner first.”
“Dinner?!” Cain exclaimed in outrage. “Now really isn’t the time to eat! Just give me the order and I’ll-”
“Shhh.” I hushed him. “You’re attracting attention. If there are indeed several people, we can't just rush into a fight like this. So we’re gonna walk home, and pretend you didn’t just do to that guy what you did, in case their buddies are watching. Then, we’ll come up with a proper plan. Plus, home is where my sword is.”
Cain’s expression shifted to one of surprise, then borderline admiration. To that, I frowned. Did he really think this little of me?
“Altight, let’s go.” He nudged me to continue walking. “And just for your records, that buffer is just unconscious. Might wake up with one bad headache as well.”
“I don’t think the word buffer means what you think it means.” I said, as I hasted my pace.
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*morsmordre* - [hermionexdraco]
- 𝗧𝘄𝗼 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗛𝗼𝗴𝘄𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀. 𝗩𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝘀. 𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗼 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗳𝗼𝘆, 𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗗𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗘𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝘆, 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹, 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝘆. -- 4 in dracoandhermione -- 78 in deathlyhallows - - 683 in dramione - - i don't own any of the characters -
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