Chapter 887: Section 585: Search (3)
Clark Silva Avenue, No. 937, Professor Grael.
In the eyes of the newspaper boy, the aged professor had seemed somewhat strange in these recent two days. Previously, the professor’s health was not good, and the newspaper boy often had to wait a minute or two after knocking before the elderly man, who had difficulty walking, would appear before him. He would take his newspaper and also give the newspaper boy a dime tip.
But these past two days, the professor’s legs had improved; upon hearing the knock, he would appear before the newspaper boy as though he could fly, taking his newspaper while the tip was nowhere to be seen.
A dime, amounting to three dollars a month, wasn’t much for the professor, but for the newspaper boy, three dollars could allow his younger brothers to attend school.
This was of great importance, yet the newspaper boy didn’t dare to ask for it—his pride and his fear of the professor prevented him from speaking up.
After finishing this round of newspaper delivery, he would go to the docks to push carts.
The young child thought to himself while taking off his newspaper boy cap and giving the professor a bow.
"Wait a moment." This time, the professor suddenly called to him and, under the gaze of the newspaper boy, pulled out his wallet and extracted six dimes.
"For the past two days, I haven’t given you a tip. I can see the resentment and unwillingness on your face, but you did not let your anger or displeasure show. Here, this is your tip. I hear you have two younger brothers; this is a recommendation letter I’ve prepared for you and your brothers. Take it and attend school at the Church of the Harvest Goddess’s elementary school on Seventh Avenue every afternoon. It was established with funding from Lord Malin, and I have the authority to recommend you to go there."
"Thank you so much!" The newspaper boy had heard of that elementary school. Unfortunately, his family weren’t followers of the Goddess of Harvest—in fact, he and his brothers weren’t even ready to decide whom to believe in. Their father had died young in the battle against Chaos, and their mother had contracted pneumonia last year. Though she finally recovered, it left their home in ruins.
Thinking of this, the newspaper boy’s face broke into a happy smile: "Thank you, Professor! Your kindness, I, I..." At this point, the newspaper boy burst into tears.