Chapter 49: Olga
Leon and the Village Chief stood inside the Chief's office—a cramped room with a wooden table at its center, surrounded by three chairs. Two were plain, but the third, carved with intricate designs and fitted with a cushion, was clearly meant for the man in charge.
"Leon... Take a seat, son." The chief gestured with a practiced smile as he settled into his throne-like chair.
"I'm good." Leon's voice was flat, his stance firm. He wasn't here to play nice.
"Well then... how much do you want? Thirty coppers? Forty?" The chief's tone was smooth, calculated.
"Seems like your son's life ain't worth shit to you, huh?" Leon's lips curled slightly, eyes sharp.
The Chief's smile barely faltered. "Come now, you didn't even know how to make the potion. I'm already very grateful to you. So... how about this? Three months free of tax and fifty coppers. Winter's coming, and I'm sure your family could use it. You have a family of three to feed, after all. Don't you think that's more than—"
"'I-I'll do anything you say, just save my son!'" Leon interrupted, voice dripping with mockery. "Sound familiar, right ? I wonder who said that ? Oh, right. That was you."
The Chief's expression darkened. "I know what I said, kid. Don't forget, I run this village. Just because I'm treating you with a little respect doesn't mean you can strut around like you own my house."
Leon smirked, crossing his arms. "Either I get what I asked for, or I'll feed my family my own way."
The Chief exhaled, clearly irritated. "Look, just take what I'm offering and go home. I don't want word getting out that I didn't reward the man who saved my son. Take it, be grateful."
'Hah... predictable fat bastard,' Leon thought. 'I expected at least a silver, but this pig won't part with even that.'