It was late afternoon now. The sky had faded into a quiet gray-blue, casting longer shadows on the cobbled street. The smell of city smoke and old stone still hung faintly in the air, but the eerie tension of the slave district had faded behind them.
They stopped in front of a three-story building with weathered stone walls and a plain wooden frame. It wasn't much to look at yet—no sign, no decorations, just a solid, empty shell waiting for life to move in.
Woon stood at the entrance and looked back at the group following him. His new staff. A strange mix of faces and skills. All quiet now, waiting.
He took a breath and gave a short nod.
"We're finally here."
He stepped aside, turning to face them fully with the door at his back.
"From today onward, you'll be working here. This place is your job now."
His voice wasn't loud or dramatic. Just steady.
He turned back around, opened the door with a push, and gestured for them to follow.
"Come on. Let's go inside."
__________
The wooden door creaked open.
They stepped into a wide, empty space. Light poured in from the high front windows, dust swirling in the beams. The main hall was bare—no tables, no chairs, just a clean wooden floor and an open kitchen counter at the back. A few crates sat off to one side, still sealed.
Woon walked a few paces in and stopped near the center. The others spread out quietly, their footsteps soft on the wood.
The space echoed a little. No noise yet. No warmth.
Just a building with potential.
He looked over his shoulder and spoke up again.
"The furniture hasn't arrived yet, so we've got some time to kill."
He clapped his hands once, casually.
"Let's do introductions while we wait."
__________
Woon stood in the center of the room and turned to face them all again.
They stood in a loose line—five people, each from a different corner of the world, quiet and alert, waiting to see what kind of master they'd just signed up with.
He raised one hand and pointed his thumb at his chest.
"Name's Lee-soo-Woon. Just Woon is fine."
His tone was dry. Straightforward.
"I'm ten years old, the owner of this place, and your boss starting today."
He gave a small shrug.
"That's it from me. Let's keep it simple."
He glanced across the line of faces, eyes settling on the calm, quiet girl standing slightly behind the others—the one with the cooking skill.
"Let's start with you. Step forward."
The girl nodded once and stepped ahead. Her back was straight, her hands neatly folded in front of her. The light from the window caught the edge of her steel collar as she spoke.
"My name is Sabrina. I'm sixteen. I was raised working in a kitchen. I'll do my best to help however I can."
Her voice was clear, calm, and practiced. No hesitation.
*Good head on her shoulders,* Woon thought. *Doesn't talk too much. That's a plus.*
He nodded to her and looked at the next in line—the younger human girl with short hair and wide eyes.
"You're next."
She stepped forward, a little less confidently. Her hands fidgeted at her sides.
"I-I'm Misha. I'm fourteen."
She gave a tiny bow.
"I helped out in a small inn before. I can clean, serve, carry dishes… I'll do my best."
"Alright," Woon said simply. *No complaints there.*
Then he looked to the fox-eared girl standing at the far end, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling as if distracted by something invisible.
"You. Fox-girl. Let's hear it."
She blinked, startled, then stepped forward quickly, nearly tripping over her own feet.
"Tina! Tina's twelve! Tina likes food and Tina will work hard!"
She bowed twice in rapid succession, ears twitching from the effort. Her cheeks turned red a moment later, like she just realized how loud she was.
Woon scratched his cheek, holding back a sigh.
*Energetic. A bit too much, maybe… but manageable.*
Then pointed at the two men still standing quietly at the back.
"You two. Let's get this over with."
The taller tiger-kin stepped forward first, arms folded.
"Jake."
Short, deep voice. No extras.
The bear-kin followed.
"Tyson."
Just one word again.
*Bodyguards who don't talk much. That's probably for the best,* Woon thought.
He looked at the group one more time, then gave a small nod to himself.
"Alright. That's everyone."
__________
As the last name echoed into the room, a quiet pause followed. Dust floated lazily in the golden light pouring through the high windows. Outside, a faint breeze pressed against the building, rattling a loose shutter somewhere above.
Woon stretched his arms over his head and cracked his knuckles.
"Alright. Now that we're acquainted…"
He let the words hang a second, eyeing the plain walls and worn wood around him.
"…this place still looks like crap."
Misha blinked, a little surprised by the bluntness. Jake raised an eyebrow. Even Tina tilted her head curiously.
Woon exhaled through his nose and thought:
**Paint. Interior. Exterior. High quality. I don't want this place peeling like an old fruit stand.**
He used his Online Shopping skill.
A soft chime echoed in his mind.
A glowing window popped up in front of him—sleek, translucent, and only visible to his eyes. Dozens of colorful product icons scrolled across the screen with every mental nudge.
__________
*Let's see…*
*Anti-mold interior paint, weatherproof outdoor finish, brushes, rollers, gloves, tarp. Cream for the inside, charcoal for the trim, red for the signboard… yeah, that'll do.*
With a mental tap, he confirmed the purchase.
A shimmer of blue light blinked into existence near the wall. In the next moment—*pop!*—a cardboard box dropped onto the floor with a dull thud. The magic circle that summoned it vanished a second later.
Woon walked over and gave the box a quick once-over. Nothing fancy—just a sealed brown carton the size of a travel trunk.
He crouched and tore the tape open with a sharp *rrrip*, then folded the flaps back. Inside, packed tight, were rows of paint cans, foam rollers, long-handled brushes, plastic tarps, work gloves, and a few other simple tools. Functional. Industrial. No brand names—just results.
He stood up, dusting off his hands.
"Fast shipping never gets old."
Then he turned and pointed toward Jake and Tyson.
"You two. Open it up and start pulling everything out."
"You're our paint crew now."
The two beastkin stepped up to the box.
Jake crouched to check the contents.
"This stuff's for painting?"
"That's right," Woon said.
"Start with the inside—cream for the walls, dark grey for the trim. Don't forget to lay the tarp first. I don't want a single drop on the floor."
Tyson nodded and grabbed the first two cans, hefting them effortlessly. Jake followed, pulling out a bundled tarp and a set of rollers.
As they moved to the walls and began unrolling the protective sheets, Misha leaned closer to Tina, whispering something with a small grin. Tina giggled, tail swaying lightly behind her.
Woon glanced at the box one more time to make sure everything was accounted for, then turned back to the rest.
"Everyone else, relax for now. Once the paint's dry and the furniture shows up, we'll start setting things up."
He cast one more look at the bare wood and stained corners.
*Still a dump for now, but at least it's my dump. Won't stay ugly forever.*
To be continued.....