The lively streets bustled as Xian and the six kids made their way out of the market. After ensuring that the appliances were scheduled for delivery to the restaurant through a trusted service, they shifted their focus to groceries. The group crowded around stalls, selecting fresh produce, seasonings, and other ingredients with eager faces. Each child had their suggestions for what they might cook, their voices overlapping with excitement.
"Do we really need this much garlic?" Rico asked, holding a hefty bundle.
"Yes," Elisa replied sternly, her mature demeanor kicking in. "Garlic is essential."
Rico groaned but complied, tossing it into the basket as Finn snickered behind him.
With their shopping bags full and hands carrying lighter items, Xian hailed a taxi. The delivery of heavier items was already arranged, leaving them with only manageable supplies. The group climbed into the taxi, and Xian instructed the driver to head to his residence.
As the taxi rumbled through the busy streets of Lungmen, Xian leaned back against the seat with a sigh. His eyes drifted to the window as the familiar sights of the city passed by. But his thoughts weren't on the scenery.
"Why do I keep getting roped into these things?" he muttered. "I mean, who in their right mind agrees to babysit and employ six kids on the spot? Oh, right, me. And Swire! What was she thinking—no, what was I thinking, agreeing to it?"
Elisa, seated beside him, glanced up curiously. "Are we causing you too much trouble, Mister Xian?"
Xian blinked, realizing his words had carried. He hesitated before waving off her concern. "Nah, it's not that. Just… a lot of sudden changes. Running my shop is already enough of a headache, and now I have six extra mouths to feed and train." He sighed again, leaning his head against the seat. "What a deal Swire and I made."
Hearing Xian's complaint, Finn leaned forward, curiosity gleaming in his sharp eyes. "So, Mister Xian, what exactly is it you do? Your work sounds kinda cool."
Xian tilted his head to the side, thinking. "I fix things. Cars, machines, appliances, sometimes gadgets. I also run a small restaurant for side income." His tone turned casual as he added, "But that's all you need to know. It's not exactly the safest job, and I'd rather not drag you into the details."
The kids exchanged glances. While Xian's answer was vague, they sensed there was more to his work than he let on. Respecting his boundaries, they nodded.
To lighten the mood, Nia softly chimed in, "Well, it's nice that we'll have a place to work and sleep. Better than, you know… the old days."
Her words shifted the atmosphere in the taxi. The others murmured in agreement, sharing relieved smiles. Tobi, always the optimist, grinned. "Yeah, way better! I mean, who else gets to say they're working for a guy like Xian? Right?"
Xian shrugged, nonchalant as always. "It's nothing special. You help out, and you get a roof over your heads and some decent meals. Fair trade, don't you think?"
Finn suddenly perked up, smirking mischievously. "Wait, wait, doesn't this count as child labor? Like, isn't there a law or something about this?"
The other kids chuckled, but Xian raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly toward Finn. "Child labor? Really?" He let out a low chuckle. "What exactly were you all doing before this? Pretty sure it wasn't volunteering at charity events. And at least here, you're working with proper pay, meals, and safety. Reflection time, Finn—compare that to what you were up to before."
Finn tried to argue but fell silent, his smirk fading as Xian's words hit home. Elisa and the others shared knowing glances, murmuring quiet agreements. Even the taxi driver, who'd been eavesdropping, let out a small chuckle at their banter.
The taxi finally pulled up to Xian's modest residence. The group climbed out, their tired bodies stretching as Xian paid the driver. He carried a few lighter plastic bags while the kids scrambled to grab the remaining groceries.
"Careful with those," Xian warned as he unlocked the front door.
The kids followed closely, chatting amongst themselves. Finn tried to balance two bags on one arm to free his other for a dramatic pose. "Fear not, Mister Xian, we've got this covered!"
"Yeah, right," Rico muttered, rolling his eyes. "You're gonna drop something."
Inside, the kids wasted no time kicking off their shoes and rushing to the living room. Some flopped onto the worn couch, others sprawled on the carpet, groaning about their sore muscles.
"My back's killing me," Tobi whined.
"My feet hurt," Mira added, massaging her legs.
Xian smirked at their complaints, carrying his bags upstairs. "Give me a second," he called over his shoulder.
While Xian was upstairs, the kids began talking. Elisa started the discussion, her tone thoughtful. "You know… this might be the first time we've had a chance to think about a future."
Nia nodded. "Yeah. It's nice knowing we don't have to run anymore."
Finn, always quick with a comment, joked, "Hey, as long as it pays better than our 'last jobs,' I'm in."
Their laughter was soft but genuine. Tobi chimed in with his usual optimism, "And we get to stick together! That's the best part."
Even Mira, shy as she was, managed a small smile. "It's… peaceful here. I like it."
When Xian returned, they quieted briefly, watching him set the bags on the counter. Rico broke the silence with a cheeky grin. "So, boss, when do we start our 'child labor?'"
Xian smirked, shaking his head. "After dinner. But first, you all need to pull yourselves together. Can't have my employees breaking down after one shopping trip."
Their laughter filled the house again, lighthearted and full of hope, as they prepared to settle into their new lives under Xian's roof.
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"Alright, let's sort ourselves out. The girls will take the bath first, and then the boys. No complaints!"
The boys groaned in unison, but no one argued. Elisa's tone left no room for negotiation. The girls gathered towels and spare clothes from their bags while the boys lingered in the living room, their eyes occasionally darting toward the kitchen where Xian was already preparing dinner.
Xian worked quietly, his hands deftly chopping vegetables and slicing meat. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filled the room, interrupted only by the sizzling of ingredients hitting a hot pan.
"Smells good!" Tobi declared, poking his head into the kitchen. Finn and Rico followed closely, their curiosity piqued.
"What're you cooking?" Finn asked, his fox-like ears twitching slightly as he leaned closer.
Xian glanced at them but didn't stop working. "A stew and some stir-fried dishes. Simple stuff."
Rico's eyes narrowed as he inspected the bubbling pot on the stove. "What's in the stew? It looks... complicated."
"It's just meat, some vegetables, and a bit of spice," Xian replied, stirring the pot. "Want to learn how to make it? It's better than just standing there drooling."
The boys nodded eagerly. Rico stepped closer, his expression unusually focused.
As Xian worked, his thoughts drifted to his latest discovery. Ever since he'd begun to feel Originium signatures around him, he'd realized he could subtly alter the energy flow in his environment. It started small—enhancing tools or devices. But now, with living beings in the mix, he wanted to test the limits of his ability.
"I've tried this with animals before," he mused internally, his gaze briefly flickering to the stew. "Nothing drastic, just subtle adjustments. If it works here, it could open up so many possibilities. No side effects so far. Still, I'll keep an eye on them."
Confident in his calculations, Xian subtly infused a trace of manipulated Originium energy into the dish, careful not to disrupt its flavor. The energy was designed to stimulate vitality—a harmless boost, or so he believed.
"Pay attention," Xian said, breaking his internal monologue. "Cooking isn't just about following a recipe. It's about understanding the ingredients, the timing, and the heat. Observe."
He demonstrated how to stir the pot at just the right pace to prevent sticking, how to taste and adjust the seasoning, and even how to cut vegetables uniformly for even cooking.
"Like this," Xian said, showing them a precise chopping technique.
Rico leaned in, surprisingly focused. "I think I get it. You're balancing the flavors with how they cook, right?"
Xian raised an eyebrow. "Exactly. Didn't think you'd pick that up so quickly."
Finn snickered. "Looks like Rico's got a hidden talent for cooking. Who knew?"
"Shut up, fox-boy," Rico shot back, though his grin betrayed his amusement.
Tobi, meanwhile, had grabbed a wooden spoon and was mimicking Xian's movements with exaggerated gestures, earning a round of laughter from the group.
As the aroma of the dishes filled the room, the boys began to drool openly.
"Alright, alright," Xian said with a smirk. "Here, taste this."
He ladled a small sample from the pot and placed it in a bowl. Turning his back to the boys briefly, he carefully extracted a tiny amount of the infused energy with a subtle gesture, ensuring that the effects wouldn't overwhelm them.
When he handed them the bowl, the boys eagerly grabbed spoons and dug in.
The moment the food hit their tongues, the boys froze, their eyes widening simultaneously.
"This is... amazing!" Tobi exclaimed, his tail wagging in excitement.
"It's the best thing I've ever eaten!" Finn added, his voice muffled by another bite.
"How'd you make it taste like this?" Rico demanded, his tone a mix of awe and suspicion.
Xian smirked, crossing his arms. "Secret ingredient."
"That's not fair!" Rico pouted. "Tell us!"
"Experience," Xian replied cryptically, waving them off. "And maybe a bit of talent. Keep practicing, and you might figure it out someday."
The boys grumbled good-naturedly, but their curiosity lingered.
Before the boys could press further, the girls returned, their hair damp and wrapped in towels. The scent of the food hit them instantly, and they stopped mid-step.
"That smells amazing," Elisa said, her voice filled with approval.
"What are you cooking, Mr. Xian?" Nia asked, her wide amber eyes gleaming.
"Dinner," Xian replied simply, stirring the pot again. "Want to try a sample?"
The girls nodded eagerly, crowding into the kitchen. Xian handed them small portions, and their reactions mirrored the boys'.
"This is incredible!" Mira exclaimed, her shy demeanor momentarily forgotten.
"Teach us how to make this," Elisa demanded, her tone half-serious.
Xian chuckled. "One step at a time. Let's get through dinner first."
The boys, eager not to be outdone, rushed to the bathroom for their turn in the bath. Their laughter and muffled arguments echoed down the hall as they hurried to clean up.
Back in the kitchen, Xian continued cooking while the girls lingered, sneaking small bites when they thought he wasn't looking.
As Xian stirred the final dish, he felt a subtle surge of energy within himself. The experiment had worked—no side effects, and the kids seemed none the wiser.
"Maybe I'm overthinking it," he thought, brushing off the faint buzz in his chest. "Still, I'll keep an eye on them just in case."
He glanced at the girls, who were now chatting animatedly about the meal. Their excitement brought a rare smile to his face.
"This isn't so bad," he muttered, turning back to the stove.
With that, Xian focused on plating the dishes, determined to make this meal a memorable one for everyone.
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Beneath the bustling surface of Lungmen, the massive nomadic city's underground facility hummed with life. The labyrinthine network of halls and machinery was a marvel of engineering, designed to sustain the city's mobility and provide power to its towering skyscrapers. Rows of pipes hissed as pressurized steam escaped, their sounds merging with the rhythmic thrum of the colossal engines deep within.
Amid this mechanical symphony, a group of workers moved through the shadowed halls. Clad in oil-stained uniforms and helmets, they blended seamlessly with the rest of the maintenance crew. But unlike the others, their eyes held an unnerving glint, their movements calculated and purposeful.
These individuals were no ordinary engineers—they were spies. Some were long-embedded Reunion agents who had wormed their way into Lungmen's infrastructure, while others were unfortunate locals coerced into treachery after being infected by Mephisto's cruel machinations. Among them, a man named Vance, a senior technician, led the group.
"Keep it natural," Vance muttered, his voice low as he adjusted a wrench on a valve. "Eyes down, mouths shut. We're just doing our job, remember."
A younger woman next to him, her face pale with fear, nodded shakily. Her trembling hands struggled to tighten a bolt, but she dared not draw attention to herself. "Do you think… they'll find out?" she whispered.
"They won't," Vance replied sharply. "Not if you stop shaking and do your part. Focus."
Nearby, another man subtly tapped his wrench against a metal pipe in a rhythmic pattern. It seemed random to an outsider, but to the infiltrators, it was a coded signal: Meeting point secure. Move discreetly.
The group exchanged glances, understanding passing silently between them.
During their breaks, the spies convened in a secluded corner of the engine facility. Surrounded by the deafening roar of machinery, they spoke in low tones, their voices drowned out by the noise.
"Phase one is nearly complete," Vance said, glancing at a hastily drawn map of the facility. "We've rerouted enough pressure in the coolant systems to create a small leak in Sector C. It'll take weeks for them to notice, and by then…"
"…By then, chaos will already be brewing above," another spy finished, his lips curling into a smirk.
A woman, her arm bandaged from a recent infection flare-up, frowned. "What about the others? The ones who aren't with us?"
"They're too busy keeping the engines running to notice anything," Vance assured her. "Besides, no one suspects the infected. As long as we act like we're just trying to survive, we'll stay under the radar."
Despite his confidence, a few of them exchanged uneasy glances. The younger woman from before hesitated before speaking. "What if we're caught? Lungmen's got the LGD, and if Ch'en or her people find out…"
"They won't," Vance interrupted, his tone icy. "Stick to the plan. You don't want to know what happens if you fail Mephisto."
The mention of Mephisto silenced any further objections.
By the end of their shift, the infiltrators had completed their preparations. Minor adjustments to the city's systems—small enough to go unnoticed but significant enough to cause disruptions—were in place. Leaks, power fluctuations, and unusual pressure changes would soon create problems for the city's residents.
"The goal is tension," Vance reminded them as they gathered one last time before dispersing. "We don't need to destroy the engines—just make the people up there suffer. Panic spreads like wildfire, and when it's too late, we'll bring Lungmen to its knees."
Some of the spies smiled, satisfied with the chaos they were about to unleash. Others looked grim, their guilt buried under the weight of their circumstances. One by one, they disappeared into the facility's endless corridors, their plan set in motion.
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The next morning, news of disturbances in Lungmen's slums reached Ch'en's desk. Reports detailed small-scale incidents: minor fires, sudden power outages, and rising unrest among the infected.
Ch'en glanced at the file briefly but set it aside. Her sharp gaze was focused elsewhere—on a schematic displayed on her monitor. It was a design for a combat suit, one of several used in recent incidents involving Xian.
She leaned back in her chair, exhaustion etched into her features. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her fingers rubbed at her temples in frustration.
"Xian…" she murmured softly, his name slipping from her lips like a sigh.
A pang of disheartened betrayal struck her chest as she stared at the schematics. She had trusted him, despite her better judgment. Trust wasn't something she gave lightly—not after years of betrayal and disappointment. Yet, for reasons she couldn't fully understand, she had allowed herself to believe in him.
Her hands clenched into fists, the crumpling sound of paper breaking the silence. "I should've known better," she muttered bitterly, her voice low but heavy with emotion.
But even as doubt gnawed at her, another voice in her mind countered. Why? Why did you trust him at all? What made him different?
Ch'en closed her eyes, exhaling a long, weary sigh. Memories of her interactions with Xian surfaced—his unusual demeanor, his resourcefulness, and that maddeningly casual way he carried himself.
Her lips tightened. "Maybe I was just desperate for something—someone—different," she admitted quietly to herself.
The faint sound of footsteps outside her office snapped her out of her thoughts. Ch'en straightened, forcing her emotions down as she prepared to face whatever awaited her.
But as she returned her attention to the reports on her desk, a lingering thought remained: Xian might've betrayed her trust, but until she knew the full truth, she wouldn't let herself act rashly.
Her sharp amber eyes glinted with determination. If Xian was involved in something bigger, she would uncover it—one way or another.