As soon as Flaminia and Camilla are back, I start showing them how to cook the croissants. Not having experience with the oven in this ex-inn, I’m sure we will waste a batch or two before pinning down the exact process.

Or at least that’s what I thought.

“[Perfect Timing] is a skill shared among many classes. When you are a [Cook] or a [Baker], it lets you know when a product in the range of your culinary skills is ready to be taken out at the perfect moment,” Flaminia explains with a smug face. She’s smug because Camilla does not have the same skill.

“Whatever, old lady, show off your skills,” the shorter Elf with pink-blonde hair says.

“Come on, ladies, for all I wouldn’t mind a catfight, I’d rather get to work,” I wink at both, “Lucillus, got the stand ready outside?”

The man shoots an annoyed look at me but still ends up nodding while sighing.

“All good.”

“Lucillus, are you sure you want to work late?” Flaminia looks at the tall guard with an air of concern. “This is going to go deep into the night. And from what I gather, you still have no contract with Joey. Won’t that be a problem with the [Captain]?”

“It’s dangerous to hang out around adventurers at night, and I can’t leave two women in good conscience when the only other male company is…” he nods toward me.

Yeah, sure, Lucillus. Sure. Protecting.

“I can protect these two fancy ladies, mind your own business, you snotty Elf!” I blow raspberries at him.

In return, I get three skeptical gazes.

“You still have to explain yourself,” Camilla chimes in, “if Lucillus is to be believed, you were found with five or six [Thugs] on the ground? Did you make them laugh till they dropped dead or something?”

Wow, what a vote of confidence.

“Well, you may not believe it, but I’m quite a proficient [Mage]!”

“A [Light Mage],” Lucillus teases me.

“Well, still a badass.”

I know they are teasing me on purpose. From tickling to this, it’s all for my sake, isn’t it?

They know I’m droopy about Lucinda, and I do need some friends around.

“Whatever—”

“Excuse me?” a knock cuts me off.

An old man with silver hair comes inside with a huge dog.

“Oh, the Human,” he smiles at me from behind the huge Gandalf beard.

“HA! STANIMAL!” I shout in delight.

I wasn’t sure if the man would show up or not. As I mentioned previously, it’s hard to deal with homeless people. But I sent Lucillus to tell the man I had a place to stay and a little job for him.

“This kind guard told me you wanted me to help you with something?” he keeps smiling while he pets his giant dog. I’m still not sure what damn race that thing is, but it’s enormous. It looks like someone crossed a wolf with an American Akita and a rhino.

That’s how stocky the dog is.

Damn dogs. I still have to find myself a cat.

Man, I miss my cat—no, scratch that. I miss the hot neighbor in love with my stupid cat.

“Well, I need a good clerk to help me with sales. Plus, people usually don’t beat up old people, and they behave more respectfully around them.”

“Joey Luciani, you don’t have to do anything for me. I’m old and I don’t want to be a burden. I came here because you remind me of that Human girl who helped me out once.”

“Please!” I say as I approach him, keeping a careful eye around the dog. “What burden! You see those three? They can’t do a thing! I’m teaching them everything I need around here. Instead, I would love to learn from someone with real experience. Plus, I have got a bunch of dusty rooms I have no intention to rent out. What do you say you bunker here, huh?”

The silver-haired Elf looks a bit overwhelmed.

“I—I don’t know, I—”

“Let’s go! Stanimal is on board! And what’s your name, you cute monster?” I switch to the dog that gives an unimpressed stare.

Dogs.

What are you, a cat?

Aren’t you supposed to be all friendly?

Come on, smile at me!

“Are you sure?” Stan looks at me with concern in his eyes.

He has the same attitude I’ve seen in many homeless people. They don’t want to be a burden, and they’d instead prefer living on the fringes of society if that meant they didn’t feel like a liability for anyone.

“Suresy, sure,” I wink at the old guy and ask Lucillus to fetch his stuff so he can settle in one of the rooms.

Stan is tall, probably the tallest among us. He’s even taller than Lucillus, now that I’ve seen both standing. But he’s very thin, and he looks almost fragile.

“Stan, are you good at haggling?” I ask the homeless man who still has to find his footing. His dog, instead, settled under a table, barely fitting there, and looked quite satisfied with the place.

“I can haggle a bit,” he smiles warmly. “And Grigio will surely help me with that.”

I look at the dog casually licking his snout and showing me a huge set of teeth while doing that.

Wait, Grigio?

“Grigio?” I look at him with curiosity.

That’s Italian, not English. It’s not even Latin.

“You like his name? The Human woman helped me name him, you know.”

I raise an eyebrow, interested.

Grigio means Gray.

But the dog is a mix of black and brown…

Is that woman color-blind or something?

“Beautiful name, but we have to get to work. Take your stuff to the room while we bake and get settled. We probably won’t open for another hour or so. We still have to fill the croissants and arrange some plates where to put them.”

“I have some leaves, by the way,” Camilla says aloud.

“For what? Salad?” I look at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Packages?” she looks at me weirdly.

“Packages? We are selling street food! What packages! They are going to eat on the spot, those drunk adventurers!”

“Huh,” Camilla assumes a calculative stance, evaluating my move.

“Come on, ladies, let’s get cooking. We are almost ready for our grand opening!”