Chapter 612 (1/2)

Naffur Suite pulled at the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt so the crimson color could be seen just a bit at the edges of his sports coat sleeves. He smiled at himself in the mirror.

Congratulations! You Skill “Charming Exterior” has increased to Level 32!

It was a welcome notification after a week of inactivity, and his smile turned softer and more genuine as he considered himself. The suit was expensive but well made. Although he couldn’t normally afford it, Naffur was already gambling everything on tomorrow night. Spending a few hundred more dollars wouldn’t make much of a difference to the amount he was standing to gain from the operation.

And in the Orchard, people like him don’t live long if they don’t succeed.

“Wonderful, wonderful,” Mama Potter said, rolling calmly over to stand next to Naffur as he considered himself. She squeezed his shoulder. “Are you truly the same Class-less pipsqueak that I took in 6 months ago? Look at you! I bet you could join the army if you wanted to.”

Naffur made an exaggeratedly pained face. “And miss your meals? Mama, I don’t care about how high a mess officer’s levels are. Your cooking is the best.”

Congratulations! Your Skill “Flattery” has increased to Level 19!

With the notification improving Naffur’s mood even further, his gaze wandered over to Mama Potter. She was extremely obese, but Naffur believed that half of her weight was heart and naivety. Apparently, she was here at the very founding of the Orchard, which was why she had such prominent location in the Old District. She even had one of the Ghosthound’s marks in her building.

For all that he was one of the most powerful people in the world, he had worked tirelessly to help erect most of the buildings in the old district by hand, and in each one he would hide a scratched signature on the underside of beams. Mama Potter’s was in the bathroom, on top of the doorframe.

When Naffur had arrived, released from the wilderness and thrown into the dangerous borderlands, he used to climb up on the toilet and just stare at it. Somehow, looking at the messy scrawl calmed Naffur down. And it made him remember a tingling hope that he had lost a long time ago.

Maybe there really was such a thing as a hero.

At the time Naffur arrived, refugees were pouring into the Orchard. There were so many that people slept in piles for safety. Because while the Ghosthound was constantly active in the area, he couldn’t be everywhere. And the Senator’s men meant well, but they didn't want to get involved in the gang disputes that quickly took shape.

Mama Potter took Naffur in to save him from that. He remembered sitting in a puddle of mud and wondering whether he would eventually get thirsty enough to drink this when someone cast a shadow over him. When he looked up, she asked him what his name was. He replied, and then she laughed aloud.

“Sweet? What a wonderful name! And an auspicious one. Would you like to help me bake some cupcakes?”

A path to a clean and stable life was opened to him at that moment.

But it would only take him a month to fuck it up.

“Shush, you won’t miss my cooking, you’ll just miss Mareen.” Mama Potter said with a wink. Naffur flushed but didn’t say anything. He knew that she would only tease him more relentlessly if he tried to deny it.

Naffur was 16, he thought, or maybe 17 now. Mareen was the 19-year-old clerk that worked busy shift after 6 pm when the builders and guards switched shifts and spent some of their coin in the shops. She wasn’t exactly perfect looking, but she had a voice that drew clients into the business like a trail of honey.

Naffur wasn’t sure what Level her singing was at, but it seemed to be damn high. Maybe even close to 70, or something ridiculous. So much so that he had a secret worry in his heart that one day, the Ghosthound or the Senator or someone important like Thaddeus Hatch would show up, hear her singing, and take her away. Not like kidnap, just… offer her something better than this.

Naffur’s expression was rather morose was he regarded himself once more. The crimson of the shirt seemed positively maroon. After all, why wouldn’t she go with them? She deserved-

Mama Potter pinched him so powerfully that he yelped.

Congratulations! Your Skill “Feign Injury” has reached Level 49!

“Don’t go looking like that, not in a new suit,” Mama Potter said balefully, squinting at him. “Whatcha need this for anyway? Have you finally landed a job?”