The bell rang when he wasn't expecting anyone—it must be a customer. Ewan bolted out, tossing the almost empty bowl onto the dining table, and rushed for the shop, his worn-down slippers hanging by a thread.
A girl stared at his neon signboard when he opened the door, at least a head shorter than him, even with her stabbing stilettos.
"Are you open?" she turned to him and asked. The black hair grazed her neck, her loose white top barely hung from her shoulders, exposing the cyan straps of her inner wear, and the blue hot pants dug up a bit too much.
"Of course, please come in," Ewan said with a smile. "What can I do for you today?"
"How do you charge?" she asked, looking around the empty shop with a frown, then came to the counter. She had about leaned on the table but stopped and backed off when she saw the collected dust.
"It's on a per level and per day basis," Ewan said. "I'm really sorry about the dust, the cleaner is on a long break." He took out a rug from behind the counter and scrubbed the table clean, wiping the monitor too.
"Do you take special orders?" she asked.
"May I have more details, ma'am?"
"I have a Fire Monkey," she said, lingering on the words. "She may or may not be with child."
"Ma'am, we're neither equipped nor have the license for such services," Ewan said with a helpless smile. "It's better for her and the baby if you take her to a proper care center."
"She's only Level-1, you don't need to worry too much," she said. "And I'll pay you double your rate."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, we really can't accept this order," Ewan said.
"Three times your rate," she said, and the lounge quietened.
The cons outweighed the pros with the unusually raised price, but the desperation of survival and the dread of starvation blurred his sense of wariness against the risk. "Four times, and you bear the penalty if we're found out," he said.
"Six times. I'll pay the fine if it comes to that, but I also won't sign a waiver," she said, a hint of smirk tugging at her lips.
Sirens blared in Ewan's head, and a sense of familiarity struck him. Each of her counters inched towards trapping him at the end, and the final one hammered the nail. Only one group of people wanted such results; traveling such a long distance from Ozryn, they'd really worked hard over the years…
"Make it seven times and you have a deal," Ewan said, throwing caution to the wind just this once. Even if they didn't trap him, he would have a hard time surviving these months. But if he prevailed and came out alive on the other end, he would at least be fifteen Sols richer after deducting the expenses. The overall cost would still be much cheaper than the care center, so she should accept it—it was a win-win for both sides.
And indeed, she shook his hand and paid him twenty-one Sols for three days of care and medical charges. His heart couldn't rest beating when he finalized her non-official receipt with her name, glancing at his new balance of Sols, and as he took out the wristband for her Astylind, she opened her Dekoth in the courtyard—the soul vortex.
A stench of sulfur assaulted Ewan, and a torrid breath caressed his face when he approached her. His lips dried, his eyes itched, and his parched throat stung when he gulped.
Soon, about a two feet tall monkey plodded out, and the grass beneath it browned, some strands even scorched black. She donned the coral-colored fur with a bulging stomach, her lanky limbs hung about, a long but droopy tail twitched behind her, and a blob of orange fire danced on her forehead.
When Necia, the customer, gave the go-ahead, Ewan checked the docile Fire Monkey—her pulse, her pupils, her breathing, the color of her nails, and even her skin and fur condition. He went through all her vitals and confirmed her condition, and only when he overruled the possibility of any tampering, not that it was likely, did he fasten the wristband on her bony arm and led her to one of the cages on the side.
"You're keeping her in a cage?" Necia asked with a scowl.
"I can't let her loose, ma'am, she won't listen to my commands properly when you're not here," Ewan said, locking the cage door. "Please don't worry, I'll take good care of her. If she feels like coming out, I'll let her out too."
"Make sure you do," Necia said. And after a small barrage of random questions of concern from her, Ewan saw her out of the main door and bid her farewell with a smile.
Because the waiver didn't chain this deal, there were several possible repercussions that could follow an unfortunate outcome. If a mishap happened during the monkey's labor and she died, Necia could hold him responsible, and he was certain to lose that case. But if the monkey raged and damaged his property, or worse yet… A lungful of breath cleared his head and he let the thought subside for now. It was better to let this matter end peacefully. The customer would get her Astylind back, safe and sound, and he would remain rich.
Astylinds were strong and possessed a fast recovery rate. Even the weakest of them surpassed average humans in everything but wisdom. But childbirth still posed a risk to them, even more so than humans in many cases. The stronger they were, the harder it was for them to give birth to their next generation. Thus, he needed to prepare to achieve a favorable result.
He'd consistently ranked first in his biology class, and by a good margin; he knew the theories by heart. He could do it, he cheered himself up. Once he made sure the monkey rested well in the cage, he locked his shop and went out for supplies in his casuals, shoving his phone in his pocket.