Waking up alone, I confirm that Lucas really did just up and leave last night after he thought I'd fallen asleep. That wasn't just a bad dream. More pissed than anything, I get out of bed and go to the bathroom to relieve my bladder, then once I wash my hands, go to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast.

Sitting on the counter is something new. There's a tin of pancake mix sitting on the counter, a letter resting against it. There are also a few more fruits in the bowl than there were last night, and three kitchen timers sitting beside the tin of pancake mix.

I grab the letter and unfold it, reading the very neat handwriting.

Kieran,

Sorry for bailing on you last night. I got a little hard while snuggling you and went back to my apartment to take care of it without bothering you. I was planning on returning after so that you didn't wake up and get the wrong idea, but you caused everything to get mixed up in my head, so I went for a run for awhile to try to clear my head.

Then I took the binder of recipes and made some updates to it because you're terrible at following the directions. Use the timers to help you with the added parts to the binder. Make the pancakes using the instructions in the book, not the back of the box.

I'll see you at training tonight.

Lucas

Lucas is one of the few guys I've met with neat handwriting, and I'm kind of impressed. Shaking that thought from my head, I read through the letter again. I didn't notice his issue, though I was focused on other things so I may have just missed it.

There are a couple of important things with all of this, though.

First, I've confused him, and it's made him think about things. That means there's a chance he may switch perspectives regarding the Patron, though it may take awhile with how deeply-rooted his hatred is. He has to get past that hypocrisy, too.

Second, his last line tells me that he may be working on that hypocrisy. How he plans on helping with things himself, I'm not sure. But unless he's hoping to play me, then that line tells me that he does intend on doing things, too.

Finally, he's sorry about upsetting me last night. That much is made evident by the fact that he bought me stuff to eat and to help me cook, but didn't make a big deal out of it. Also because he apparently took the binder.

Grabbing the binder, I start looking through it, and it becomes evident fast what he added to it. In the tips and tricks and explanations section, he's added in an explanation of what each heat instruction means in regards to where the dial should be, complete with a drawing of the knob. Most of the recipes also have clarifications on this for when it's a range. Lucas also added in timer instructions on many of the recipes to tell me exactly how long to cook things for by using the timers.

Finally, he added in a page to the breakfast section of the binder, this one including pancakes made from mix, sausage links, and eggs. There are also instructions for adding certain fruits to the pancakes and how to do that.

I open up the cabinet with the mixing bowls and find that there's a new cutting board inside of it.

Pulling out the new one, I find that it has lines patterned onto it. Solid black lines every half-inch, dashed black lines halfway between those ones, and solid red lines between each set of solid and dashed black lines. Did he seriously give me a cutting board to make it easier to follow instructions regarding the size I should cut things into?

Well, I probably do need one, but still.

Deciding to use bananas in the pancakes, I keep the board out as I grab the bowl I need for them. I pull out all of the other dishes I need as well, then read through the recipe twice before getting to work. I'm not sure why I need to whisk the pancake mix after measuring it and putting it into the bowl, but before adding the milk, so I make a mental note to ask Lucas tonight.

The pancakes actually come out pretty decent this time, though I still overcook the eggs a little somehow.

I'm in the middle of eating when my phone rings, and since it's Melody, I answer it.

"Good morning," I greet her.

"Good morning, Lucas," she responds. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm okay."

"Were you awake when Sivalshi shifted again?"

"Yeah," I answer. "I was in bed at the time, but awake."

"I was brushing my teeth," she tells me. "Fell into my sink, and my stomach's still sore from that."

"Ouch."

"Yeah," she says. "I have an ice pack against it right now to help. I also have a job assignment for you, if you want it. Twelve an hour, from eight until two helping out the Lenny's Burgers and Fries on Third Green Street. My system says it's an eighteen-minute walk from your apartment."

I check the time. I have about twenty-five minutes to get there.

"I'll take it," I tell her. "This is a little close, though, and I might run a few minutes late."

"They only just sent it through," she informs me. "I let them know that there are only even two people who would be able to get there in time, and that's if they left immediately. He said it's fine as long as they have someone."

"Alright," I respond. "I'll finish up breakfast, then I'll change and head on my way."

"I'll let them know," she tells me. "Good luck, Mr. Wolfe, and enjoy your day."

She ends the call, then I hurry up and finish breakfast, then change into a fresh set of clothes before setting off with fourteen minutes to arrive. It's only eighteen minutes if I walk normally, but I can put on a good pace and so I do, managing to arrive a full minute before I'm supposed to start.

Even at only eight in the morning, there are already customers here, a few tables taken by various people eating their breakfasts. They're lower district people, but ones better off than me. Able to spend a little money like this now and then.

There's a bored-looking guy of about eighteen or nineteen standing behind the register, a little on the skinny side though not as much as me, with brown hair and blue eyes. He's dressed in an old, faded black button-up, probably to show some sort of professionalism, and a hat.

He's kind of cute…

"Hello," he greets me in a bored tone as I approach. "Are you ready to place your order?"

"My name's Kieran Wolfe," I begin to introduce myself, and his face lights up.

"So you're the one they sent!" He says. "Awesome. I'm Danny. Have you worked a kitchen before?"

"Yeah," I answer. "Sort of. I'm usually stuck on the registers, I'm pretty bad in a kitchen."

"Great," he says. "So there's an apron back there, put it on, yeah? You can leave the hoodie in the back, it's just us until you get off and you'll get hot in the kitchen. I'll show you the basics, but I'm not allowed to let temp workers work the registers. Had issues with them stealing in the past and we're done with that."

"Erm-"

"No worries, it's easy," he tells me. "Go get ready."

I walk through the kitchen and enter the break room, where there are several aprons hanging on a hook. I pull off my hoodie and hang it on one of them, then pull on one of the aprons and fix it on before returning to the front.

"Okay," the guy greets me in the kitchen, then immediately launches into showing me what to do as he tells me what's needed. "We've got an order for hash brown patties and our sausage biscuit sandwich. This one's easy. First, you pull out this tray, grab the biscuit, set it down, slice it like this, and then grab a sausage patty from this one and put it on the bottom half before putting the top back on. Grab a liner, put it in the serving boat, put the biscuit in. Then you grab the two patties from the order and put them in the basket. Use the tongs like this. Check the order on the screen there, make sure it matches, and put it on the tray and give it to the customer like this. Done."

The customer thanks him for the order, then takes her seat at one of the tables, and I look at Danny. He went a bit too fast for me and there are several things I still need to know.

"That doesn't tell me what to do when the cooked stuff runs out."

"That's easy, too," he says. "I'll show you when we need more."

"Okay."

This probably isn't the best of ideas. I really have always been put on the registers, and for good reason. However, I accept it for now and let Danny show me the ropes. Making the food turns out to be easier than I thought. With the patties, there's a timer for how long to put them on, then I flip them over in order and set the second timer, then remove and put them in the plastic tray. The biscuits are heated in an oven on a timer, but come mostly-ready. For the hash browns, I just need to line them up on the frying rack for them, then lower it into the fryer on a timer, pulling them out after it goes off.

Why can't making my own food be this simple?

Within half an hour, I'm running the kitchen and preparing meals constantly, a steady stream of customers coming and going until around ten, when Danny and I finally have a few minutes without needing to work. He's been handling ringing up the customers, collecting and cleaning the dirty dishes from the kitchen and the dining area, and wiping down the tables.

Just as he told me, I'm pretty warm with the heat of the stove, oven, and fryer around me, so I guess it's a good thing I listened and took off my hoodie. Without doing that, I'd probably be sweating up a storm, and that wouldn't be comfortable at all.

"It's almost time to switch over to the lunch stuff," he tells me. "It's just as easy, though, so I'll show you."

"Okay," I say. "Do you guys normally have to go through a temp agency for help?"

"Just sometimes," he tells me. "Maybe once every few weeks. There were supposed to be two guys working with me, but, uh, as you can see, they're not here. We don't have that many employees, either, and none of the others could come in. Half of them don't like coming in even when they're scheduled."

Even when money is scarce and nearly everyone in the area can use every penny they can get, there are still lazy people who don't want to work. They're like Lucas – they find it easier to blame others. If they can't afford things, they blame the companies for putting the prices high, not caring that those so companies are probably barely making a profit at all.

Sure, their upper employees do make more than we do, but they're also working, more likely than not. And doing bigger things to keep things running.

Before blaming others, everyone should do things themselves in this harsh world. That's why I actively looked for work, that's why I'm jumping at the opportunity to make a difference and why I accepted the challenge to train myself using the resources I was given.

When I was out of money and had to go hungry, I didn't blame others. Either it was my fault or just luck of the draw with the jobs. Though with the way Melody is so far, if things keep up I might be able to continue eating a little bit better than I was before the Patron made me the offer, should I not meet his requirements.

"Did they call in?" I ask. "The workers, I mean?"

"While they're normally," he says. "The lazy sort who'll show up late or call in, no. That's not what happened today."

"Sick?"

"No," he snorts. "They got taken out by a vigilante."

"A vigilante?" I ask. "What were they doing?"

"Mugging a guy," he answers. "It's a standard thing for them, usually get ignored. They've tussled with the vigilante that covers this area a few times, but he's never managed to overpower them. I can always tell when they have because he's kicked their asses pretty decently as well."

That's right, I'm not in Sovirna's territory anymore. I left that a block ago, and his guys probably do their stuff a little further away. Though if these two workers can take on a vigilante, they've probably got abilities of their own.

"What can they do?" I ask.

"Figured that out, eh?" He grins. "One of them can turn invisible for about ten seconds at a time. He uses it to strike unseen. The other's a shield-maker – barriers of teal light. As a team, they're pretty decent. Barriers protects them while Invisible sneaks around and attacks, having enough time to adjust based on how the opponent is defending."

"And the vigilante?"

"The one who normally patrols this area," he says. "Can amplify the force behind his strikes or something like that. Makes it easy to break bones, but it's a bad mashup for those two and they end in draws a lot. Still ends up stopping them when he catches them, though, and the victim usually manages to escape."

So all three of them are like me – they only knew about one thing they could do with their power. That doesn't surprise me, though. I think Lucas vastly underestimates how many people actually know that power users can do more than one thing.

"And the one last night?" I ask.

"Dunno him," he shrugs. "Vigilantes do sometimes cross over or move, or even just travel through. Sovirna's sometimes stepped into this area and done some stuff, though she's never gone after those two. Either she doesn't know or she doesn't care about muggers."

"She'd have only gone after them," I tell him. "If they crossed her path or she needed to. If she's come into this area, it's usually because she's on a hunt already."

"Yeah," he says. "So anyway, vigilante last night is one I haven't heard of, so I think he's come from a further part of the city, since I know all of the ones within a few districts. His power isn't small-time at all, either."

Am I going to find out what he did at all? Or just get told more stuff that's not what he can do?

"What's his power?" I ask.

"Chains of golden crystal," he answers. "According to the guys, there were a lot of them, but they were probably exaggerating. Either way, they were tied up nice and neat for the cops. Guy used them well enough to trap the guys in an alley, then bound them 'till the cops arrived. They'll probably be back at work next week."

Chains of golden crystal, able to trap them, and then waited for the cops to arrive? This guy is a professional vigilante. He's probably from the middle or upper districts, most likely passing through here for something and saw a mugging in action, then stepped in to stop it.

Usually when one of the bigger vigilantes shows up in the area like here, that means they're chasing something big. I really hope it's taken care of soon and doesn't cause me any problems. The last time I got mixed-up in such an event… well, it wasn't fun.

"So!" He grins at me. "Who's your favorite vigilante?"