Chapter 60: What’s for Lunch?
Chapter 60: What’s for Lunch?
Kent’s trusted enforcer grumbled under his breath, silently cursing his boss and his entire family as he stood at a deli counter ordering lunch.
This meal was coming out of his own pocket.
It wasn’t the first time Kent had sent him on errands without providing money. While the enforcer resented the unfairness, he tolerated it because his paycheck, though meager, was reliable.
Sometimes, tolerating injustice is a mistake. Give an inch, and they’ll take a mile.
The Imperial District didn’t have many fast-food options, just bakeries and delis. True fast-food restaurants were clustered around gas stations farther away.
Empire immigrants hadn’t yet developed a taste for Federation-style fast food. The younger generation, born or raised here, was starting to embrace it, but the older immigrants clung to their traditions.
The enforcer ordered a modest lunch: several chunks of fried pork knuckle, a pile of the cheapest bread, a large bag of fruit salad worth a dollar, and a pack of cold beers.
He popped a piece of pork into his mouth as he carried the food back. The fried skin crunched satisfyingly, releasing a burst of fatty juices and meat flavor. The best part of this trip, he thought, savoring the morsel.