Chapter 355: Have You Eaten Yet?
Linus could tell from Leon’s expression that the brat was up to no good, so he warned him right away.
“I’m telling you, kid, don’t use that advantage to mess around.”
“You said it yourself—humans judge based on their own values and won’t blindly trust me. Even if I wanted to do something bad, I’d need the other person’s consent, right?”
Hearing that, Leon quickly reined in his smirk and explained.
“Yes, but that’s assuming you’re the same as me—a scruffy old drifter. Do you not know what you look like?” Linus shot back mercilessly.
“If you wanted to, just a snap of your fingers in some big city bar and you could do all kinds of things. I was young once too, you know. I’ve been where you are, and I know what’s on your mind.”
“You were that much of a player when you were young?” Leon didn’t address Linus’s concern, instead surprised by his past.
“That’s all in the past. No point talking about it now. I’m just warning you—don’t mess around.” Linus rolled his eyes and repeated himself.
“Relax, I’m not going to mess around. I’m picky, okay?” Leon shrugged.
“Then why haven’t I seen you pick one of the girls in town? Or do you think none of them meet your standards?” Linus narrowed his eyes and shot back.
“I just haven’t decided yet,” Leon replied half-heartedly.
“Heh. I don’t care if you want to play the playboy, but you’d better think about whether the people backing those girls will tolerate your behavior once it’s exposed.” Linus’s voice was heavy with meaning.
“You mean Abigail?” Leon asked.
“Not just her. But I’m not telling you who else. Just watch yourself. Now get out of my sight.” Linus sneered, ducked into his tent, and zipped the flap shut.
“Besides Abigail with Wizard Rasmodius as her backer… are there other girls with protectors? Who could they be? Sandy behind Emily?”
With these doubts lingering, Leon left the northern foothills and returned to his farmhouse.
Washing dishes, he turned over Linus’s words in his mind, but he got nowhere. There was simply too little to go on. Using game knowledge for reference was pointless—real life had far more variables.
Take Sophia’s appearance, for example—she wasn’t even in the game.
Unable to figure it out, Leon decided to stop wasting brainpower. He took out the tea leaves gifted to him by Caroline, pinched a small amount with three fingers, and dropped it into his cup.
Eighty-degree water for brewing—no rinsing, too much trouble. Skipping boiling water was already the greatest respect Leon could offer to the tea ceremony.
The tea leaves unfurled quickly in the hot water, revealing their original form. Tiny green leaves tinted the water a vivid jade, and the distinct, gentle fragrance of green tea filled the air.
Lifting the cup, Leon blew across the rim and took a small sip. The familiar bitterness jolted him awake, and as the tea slid down his throat, the lingering flavor in his mouth turned sweet.
“Nice.”
Eyes closed in contentment, Leon wished for a lounge chair. Add a radio playing “Empty City Stratagem” and the scene would be perfect.
Tea really was more suited to the constitution of an Eastern soul than coffee. Leon never understood how anyone could enjoy coffee’s bitterness without the sweetness of a returning note—if you wanted sweet, you had to add sugar and milk.
Then again, thinking of the grind of his old working life and the original use of coffee beans, it made sense.
Coffee had first been fed to livestock—cows and horses that, after eating the beans, ate less, worked more, and toiled harder. Modern technology might have replaced most animal labor, but another kind of “beast of burden” still needed motivation.
Thinking of his current leisurely life, Leon couldn’t help but raise his teacup and laugh. Somewhere out there, a poor office drone, stuck working overtime before going home to pound the keyboard, must be envying him.
That cup of green tea lasted Leon until noon. With nothing else pressing, he savored it slowly. Only after finishing did he set aside the spent leaves, take out a slab of beef, and head into the kitchen.
A hearty beef rice bowl later, Leon refilled his cup for a second brew. Though weaker than the first, it still carried the flavor—perfect for cutting the richness of his meal.
Once that tea was gone, he rinsed the cup, tossed the exhausted leaves onto the soil outside, and considered the leaves’ journey complete—returning to nature.
Changing into clean clothes, Leon left the farm.
He had a date with Emily that afternoon in the Coal Forest, where she’d teach him to dance. Leon disliked keeping people waiting, so he planned to arrive early and kill some time fishing.
Thinking it was still early, he didn’t bother with his bike. Ever since his rainy-night insight, he’d come to relish walking—feet on the earth, eyes full of green life.
With each step, he could faintly feel the vitality wrapping around him, a comfort so light it felt like he might float away. It was impossible to describe, yet undeniably pleasant.
If he had to give an example—it was like finding a heater when half-frozen, or stepping into a perfectly climate-controlled room after baking in the sun.
The Coal Forest was as tranquil as ever. Apart from Marnie’s Ranch at its edge, there were few traces of human life.
Wild grass and shrubs lined the path, towering trees standing tall everywhere, deepening Leon’s sense of comfort.
Reaching the big tree they’d agreed on, Leon didn’t see Emily—but he did see a graceful figure he hadn’t met in a while.
“Hey, Leah. Long time no see. Have you eaten yet?”
Under the tree, Leah was sketching. They hadn’t seen each other since the Egg Festival, so Leon greeted her warmly.
“Good afternoon, Leon. Here to fish?” Leah looked up and returned the greeting, though her gaze lingered on him in a brief daze.