Note: This chapter is not that good, ngl. But its still okay, there are just some parts that i'm not satisfied with.
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"I'm Wise. Nice to meet you, Cedric."
The introduction hung in the air, mingling with the savory steam rising from the pots in the kitchen.
Cedric stared at the hand offered to him—slender, pale, with short-trimmed fingernails—before giving it a brief, firm shake.
"Nice to meet you." He answered with a blank tone.
He pulled his hand back and returned to his default state: staring blankly at the wooden counter while waiting for the food.
The silence that followed was heavy... at least for one of them.
For Cedric, silence was a natural state of being, a comfortable void where no energy was required.
For Wise, however, it seemed to be a vacuum that needed filling.
She shifted on her stool, the fabric of her trousers rustling slightly. She cleared her throat, her teal eyes scanning his profile with a mixture of curiosity and professional assessment.
"So." She began, her voice gentle but probing. "You said it's your first time on Sixth Street. Did you just move to here?"
"Yes." Cedric replied.
"I see. So… where do you live now?"
"Northwest Residential District." Cedric replied.
"Oh, just a few blocks over then. That's a quiet area." Wise nodded, trying to build a rhythm.
"And you look young. Are you a student?"
"Yes. New Eridu High, first year."
"Oh, so you're sixteen years old?" Wise asked.
"Yes."
Wise paused. It was like talking to a wall, albeit a polite one. Most people, especially teenage boys, would be flustered or trying to act cool in front of a woman.
Cedric just seemed... empty. But it piqued her interest. She was a Proxy after all, solving puzzles was her job.
"You don't talk much, do you?" She noted with a small, tired smile.
"Talking is tiring." Cedric murmured.
Wise let out a soft chuckle. "Fair point. I can respect that."
She leaned her chin on her hand, watching him.
"Well, since you don't live too far away, if you ever need help finding your way around—"
"Order up!"
The booming voice of General Chop shattered the conversation. The massive, four-armed chef slammed two steaming bowls of ramen onto the counter with a force that rattled the chopstick holders.
"One Smoked BBQ Ramen Special! And one Vegetable Ramen Special! Enjoy!"
The conversation died instantly as Cedric's attention snapped to the bowl in front of him. It was a masterpiece.
The broth was a deep, opaque brown, shimmering with rich oils. Floating in the center was a generous heap of smoked brisket, the meat charred perfectly at the edges, glistening with glaze. A soft-boiled egg next to a pile of bamboo shoots and fresh scallions. The steam rising from it smelled of woodsmoke, soy sauce and pure, unadulterated fat.
It was beautiful.
For a boy who had spent a lifetime starving, whose last memory was the taste of blood and ash, this was a miracle.
[Don't just stare at it like it's a painting. Eat. Your stomach is screaming at me.]
Cedric didn't need to be told twice.
He broke the chopsticks apart and didn't wait for it to cool. He lifted a tangle of ramens, heavy with broth and meat, and shoveled them into his mouth.
Heat.
That was the first sensation. A searing, wonderful heat that coated his tongue and warmed his throat. Then came the flavor. Salty, savory, smoky, sweet. The texture of the ramens was firm and chewy, the meat melting apart the moment he bit down.
It wasn't just food. It was life.
Cedric didn't eat with grace. He ate with efficiency. He hunched over the bowl, he inhaled the ramens, drank the broth and chewed the meat with a rhythmic intensity.
Beside him, Wise was eating with significantly more decorum.
Cedric glanced sideways through the gap in his hair.
She was eating the Vegetable Ramens. Her bowl was lighter, filled with clear broth, bok choy, mushrooms, and tofu. She held her chopsticks with practiced elegance, picking up small, manageable portions. She blew on the ramens gently before eating them.
She looked… peaceful.
Despite the dark circles under her eyes and the weariness in her posture, the act of eating seemed to ground her. She closed her eyes for a moment as she chewed, a look of simple contentment washing over her features.
Then, she froze.
She must have felt the weight of his gaze. She opened her teal eyes and turned her head, catching him staring mid-chew.
She blinked. Then she smiled, a genuine, slightly amused expression.
"Is it good?" she asked softly.
Cedric swallowed the massive mouthful of pork he was holding. He looked at his bowl, then back at her.
"Yes." he said seriously. "It is... good."
Wise laughed. "Glad to hear that."
She went back to her meal, and Cedric returned to his demolition of the BBQ ramens.
…
…
…
Ten minutes later, the bowls were empty. Cedric sat back, feeling a sensation he hadn't felt in years. His stomach felt heavy and warm. The sharp, clawing ache that had plagued him since he woke up was gone, replaced by a sluggish, comfortable lethargy.
"Ah, that hit the spot." Wise sighed, placing her chopsticks down neatly across the bowl. She reached into a pocket on her cargo pants and pulled out a small, sleek wallet.
"Keep the change, General. Thanks for the meal."
"Come back soon!" General Chop bellowed, waving a cleaver.
Wise stood up, and Cedric slid off his stool to follow. His objective was complete, he had eaten, and now he could go back to the apartment and rest. He turned around, ready to disappear.
[Oi. Where do you think you're going? She paid for your food. She walked you here. And you're just going to flee without a word? Do you want to be raised by wolves? Actually, even wolves have better manners than you. Say thank you.]
Cedric halted. He suppressed a sigh. The System was right, but the social obligation felt heavy.
He turned back toward Wise.
"Thank you." he said, bowing his head slightly. "For the treat. I will... leave now."
He turned around again, pushing through the noren curtains and stepping out onto the street where the afternoon sun had dipped lower, casting long orange shadows across Sixth Street.
"Cedric! Wait a moment!"
The voice came from behind him. Cedric stopped and turned around to find Wise standing on the sidewalk, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression thoughtful. She was looking at him—specifically, at his head.
"I didn't want to pry while you were eating." She said, taking a step closer. "But... why is your hair wet?"
Cedric reached up and touched a strand of his long, black hair. It was still damp, cold, and clinging to his neck.
"It's wet." He agreed. "Because I showered."
Wise stared at him. "You showered? And you didn't dry it?"
"No."
"Why?"
Cedric shrugged, a small, indifferent movement. "Drying takes time. It will dry itself eventually."
He was speaking from the logic of his previous life, where every second spent on self-care felt like a waste of time.
But Wise looked horrified and her eyebrows knitted together.
"It dries itself?" She repeated, her voice rising slightly in disbelief. "Cedric, it's autumn. The wind is cold. Walking around with soaking wet hair isn't just messy, it's a health hazard. You could catch a cold, get a migraine or damage your scalp."
She uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on her hips, scrutinizing him.
"And looking at you... you're shaking. You might not feel it, but your body is losing heat."
Cedric looked down at his hands. They weren't shaking. Were they? Perhaps a little. He hadn't noticed.
"It is fine." He said, turning to leave. "I will go home."
"And do what? Sit in a cold room with wet hair?" Wise stepped in front of him, blocking his path. She chewed her lip for a second, debating with herself. She looked at his pale face, his thin frame, and the water dripping onto his collar. She sighed, the tension leaving her shoulders.
"Look." She said, her tone softening. "My place is right down the street. Why don't you come over? I have a hairdryer. You can dry your hair properly."
Cedric opened his mouth to refuse.
"And." Wise added, anticipating his resistance. "I think I have a spare hairdryer somewhere in the storage room. I bought a new one last month because the old one was making a weird noise, but it still works. You can have it. Consider it a... gift."
Cedric stood frozen.
Gift. House invitation. Stranger.
Alarm bells rang in his head. Why? What did she want? People didn't just give things away. Was she luring him in? Was this a trap?
Ding!
A window slammed into his vision, overlaying Wise's concerned face.
[Mission: Establishing Bonds]
[Objective: Make friends with Wise.]
[Reward: Egg Incubation Time Reduced by Half.]
Cedric read the reward. By half mean fifteen days. Half a month cut off the wait.
But when he looked at the Objective.
"I refuse." he whispered, about to turn away. "It is too dangerous. I don't know her. And... i don't need a friend."
[Stop.]
[Look at that reward, kid. Fifteen days. That means your bodyguard hatches in two weeks instead of a month. Do you know how dangerous this city is? Do you know how weak you are right now?]
"I will survive alone." Cedric muttered. "I always do."
[Will you? Think about the Contract, kid.]
The word hung in his mind like a guillotine blade.
[You made a deal with The Dealer. Sixty years. You have to survive sixty years to earn your Oblivion. If you die because you were too paranoid to accept a hairdryer, you get nothing.]
[Do you want to go back to the Void? Do you want to spend eternity remembering the scream? This isn't about trust. This is about strategy. You need that egg to hatch as soon as possible. You need the strength now. This woman is offering you a tactical advantage. You are throwing it away because you are scared.]
The System let the silence stretch.
[Use her. If you have to think of it that way, fine. Use her for the dryer. Use her for the 15 days. Fulfill the Contract. Don't be a failure twice.]
[If you accept, you will get a bodyguard and superpower. Think about survival. Furthermore...]
The System's tone softened.
[Look at her face. She's not trying to trick you. She's worried about you.]
Cedric looked at Wise. Her teal eyes were sincere. She wasn't looking at him with pity, exactly, but with a sort of exasperated care. Like she had found a stray cat in the rain and couldn't just leave it there.
He felt a strange twinge in his chest. It wasn't quite warmth, but it was a softening of the cold iron that usually wrapped around his heart.
"Fifteen days." He muttered under his breath.
"Excuse me?" Wise asked, tilting her head.
"Nothing." Cedric said. He looked her in the eye. "I accept. Thank you."
Wise smiled, a bright, relieved expression. "Great! It's just around the corner. Come on."
She gestured for him to follow and started walking.
They walked side by side down the bustling street. Cedric kept his hands in his pockets, his eyes darting around, taking in the details he had missed in his hunger-induced tunnel vision earlier.
They passed the green kiosk he had never seen before.
[Howl's Newsstand.]
Inside, a Husky was currently chewing on a squeaky toy shaped like a bone. When it saw Wise, it dropped the toy and barked happily.
For a split second, Cedric didn't see a Husky. He saw a small, black and white puppy. He saw rain. He heard a boot hitting ribs.
Thud. Thud.
His breath hitched. He looked away immediately, staring fixedly at the pavement, his hands clenching into fists in his pockets until his knuckles turned white.
"Woof!"
"Hey, Howl." Wise waved at the dog.
"That's Howl," Wise explained, noticing his gaze. "He runs the newsstand. He's sort of the mascot of Sixth Street. Don't let the cute face fool you; he drives a hard bargain on scratch car—"
"Cedric?" Wise asked, noticing his sudden tension. "Are you okay? That's just Howl."
"I know." Cedric replied.
"I'm just... don't like dogs."
"Oh… my bad." Wise said softly. "We'll keep walking."
They continued walking. Next to the newsstand was the shop with the sleek, dark aesthetic and the neon blue sign.
"That's Bardic Needle." Wise pointed out.
"If you like music, that's the place. Elfy runs it. She has everything from classical vinyls to the latest pop sensory-tapes."
Not long after, she stopped in front of the yellow building directly across from the music store.
"We're here." Wise announced.
It was a vibrant, retro-industrial structure. The walls were painted a warm, inviting yellow, contrasting with the exposed brickwork of the upper floor. A metal staircase ran up the side of the building, and large glass windows displayed movie posters.
Above the entrance, there is a large, stylized sign read: Random Play.
"Please come in." Wise said, opening the door. A bell chimed cheerfully.
Cedric stepped inside.
The interior was a sensory overload of nostalgia. It felt like walking into a time capsule. The floor was polished wood, warm and inviting. The walls were exposed red brick, covered in movie posters, framed vinyl records, and memorabilia.
To his left, rows of red metal shelves were packed with video tapes. To his right was a cozy lounge area with an orange sofa, leafy plants, and a low table.
The air smelled of old paper and coffee. Behind a large reception desk encased in wire mesh, is a small Bangboo with a scarf was organizing tapes.
"Welcome to Random Play! The best selection in New Eridu!"
A girl popped up from behind the counter.
She looked like a burst of chaotic energy given human form. She was slender and petite, but her presence filled the room. She had long, striking hair that started as a deep blue at the roots and transitioned into a vibrant, fiery orange at the tips. Her large, expressive eyes were a mesmerizing dark aqua, with bright orange hues at the bottom that seemed to glow with mischief.
Her outfit was pure streetwear fashion, stylish and asymmetrical. She wore a tight black turtleneck that hugged her frame, layered under an oversized, boxy vest that was a mix of grey, white, and orange with a large hood. A strange, skewed skirt—grey and orange—hung unevenly over her legs. Her socks were mismatched, one short and one long, and she wore chunky grey sneakers.
"Oh! Wise! You're back!" The girl grinned, leaning over the counter. "Did you get the ramens? I was starving, so I almost ate a tape, but then I—"
She stopped. Her eyes landed on Cedric, who was standing awkwardly next to Wise, looking like a wet, gloomy shadow.
The girl blinked. She looked at Cedric. Then she looked at Wise. Then back at Cedric. Her expression shifted from excitement to a dramatic, exaggerated shock. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.
"Wise..." She whispered loudly. "I know you've been lonely lately. I know you never have a boyfriend before. But..."
She pointed an accusing finger at Cedric.
"Kidnapping a child? Really? Has it come to this? Are you that thirsty?"
"BELLE!"
Wise's face flushed a brilliant shade of red. The cool, composed manager vanished instantly.
"What are you talking about?! Thirsty?! Shut up!" Wise shouted, waving her hands frantically.
"He is a guess! I did not kidnap him! And he is sixteen!"
Cedric stood there, blinking. He looked around the shop, completely ignoring the shouting match. He watched the Bangboo at the counter, which was currently trying to balance a tape on its head.
"Then why is he wet?" Belle countered, narrowing her eyes playfully.
"And why does he look like a kicked puppy you dragged home from the rain? Sus. Very sus."
Wise groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"I bumped into him on the street. I knocked him down. I bought him lunch to apologize, and then I realized he was walking around with wet hair because he doesn't own a hairdryer. I invited him over to dry off. That's all."
Belle looked at Cedric again. Her expression softened into curiosity.
"Oh. Okay. That sounds like something you'd do." She hopped over the counter, landing lightly on her feet. She walked up to Cedric and peered into his face.
"Hi! I'm Belle. Her little sister. Also the manager of this place. Sort of." She grinned, extending a hand.
Cedric looked at the hand.
[Shake it. Don't be shy. She's weird, but she seems harmless.]
"Cedric." He said, shaking her hand.
"Nice to meet you, Cedric! Welcome to Random Play. Sorry about Wise, she's a bit of a mother hen. She can't help picking up strays."
"I am not a stray." Cedric said.
"You kind of look like one." Belle laughed. "But hey, I like strays. They're normally cute."
Wise sighed deeply. "Ignore her, Cedric. She was dropped on her head as a child."
"Hey!" Belle protested.
"Anyway." Wise interrupted, gesturing towards the back of the shop. "I'm going to take him upstairs to get the dryer. Can you watch the counter?"
"Sure, sure." Belle waved them off, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes.
"You two go upstairs. I will give you two some private time." She checked her watch theatrically.
"But remember, it's still daytime, sis. Keep the noise down. The walls are thin."
Wise didn't even dignify that with a response. She just closed her eyes, let out a long, suffering sigh, and turned to Cedric.
"I am so sorry." She said, her voice weary. "Please follow me."
She led him toward a metal staircase at the back of the shop. Cedric followed, glancing back once to see Belle winking at him and giving two thumbs up.
They ascended the stairs. The noise of the shop faded, replaced by a quieter, more personal atmosphere.
Wise stopped at the second left door on the landing, unlocked it and pushed it open.
"Come on in. Make yourself at... well, just sit anywhere."
Cedric stepped inside.
If his apartment was a sterile white void, this room was a universe of personality.
It was an industrial loft-style room, warm and cluttered in a highly organized way. The walls were a mix of exposed red brick and navy blue paint.
To his left was a relaxation area with an L-shaped sofa covered in pillows shaped like musical notes. A low table was cluttered with magazines and a coffee mug.
To his right, was a bright yellow mountain bike was mounted on the brickwork like a piece of art. Below it was a workbench covered in tools, screws, and mechanical parts.
On the far wall, was a serious workspace. A massive desk held a computer setup with three monitors, the screensavers glowing with complex code. Above it, shelves were packed with retro game consoles, figurines, and books.
Vinyl records were stacked in crates near a high-end audio system. Posters of old movies and video games covered every inch of available wall space.
It was chaotic. It was full of "stuff."
But to Cedric, it didn't look messy. It looked... lived in. It looked like a brain turned inside out and plastered onto the walls.
"Sit." Wise pointed to the leather armchair near the sofa.
Cedric sat. He looked around, his eyes tracing the lines of the yellow bike.
Wise walked over to the locker-style cabinet near her workbench. She started rummaging through it.
"I know it's in here somewhere." She muttered. "I put it behind the box of capacitors... or maybe next to the soldering iron?"
Clang. Clatter.
Cedric waited. He sat perfectly still, his hands on his knees. He felt the dampness of his hair seeping into the collar of his shirt.
"Aha!"
Wise turned around, holding a black hairdryer triumphantly. It looked a bit old, scuffed at the edges, but sturdy.
"Found it." She smiled, walking over to him. She held it out. "Here. There's an outlet next to the..."
She paused. She looked at Cedric. He was staring at the hairdryer with a blank, uncomprehending expression. He made no move to take it.
A realization dawned on her.
"Cedric." She said slowly. "Do you... know how to use a hairdryer?"
Cedric looked at the device. He looked at the nozzle, the buttons, the cord. It wasn't complex technology. But in his memories—both his old life and the vague recollections of this body—he had never touched one.
"No." He answered honestly. "I dry naturally."
Wise stared at him for a long second. Then, her shoulders slumped. The "mother hen" energy that Belle had mocked came flooding back, mixed with a resigned amusement.
"Of course you don't." She murmured.
She walked over to the wall, plugged the device in, and dragged a small stool over. She placed it right next to his chair.
"Okay." She said, sitting down. "Turn around."
Cedric blinked. "What?"
"Turn around. I'm not going to let you freeze while you figure out the buttons. I'll do it myself."
Cedric hesitated. Having someone this close—someone touching him—was not in his plan.
[Don't worry. She's doesn't want to harm you. She's not gonna kill you with the hair dryer cord or something. So just turn around.]
'Hah...'
Cedric slowly turned his chair so his back was to her.
"Relax." Wise said softly.
She turned on the dryer, aiming it away first to test the heat against her own palm—a small, instinctive gesture of care. Once she was satisfied it wasn't too hot, she moved closer.
He felt her fingers gently comb through his damp hair.
She was careful, almost methodical. She lifted the heavy strands, letting the warm air circulate underneath. When she encountered a knot, she didn't pull or yank. She paused, working it loose with patient, rhythmic movements.
Whirrrrrrr.
The sound of the dryer filled the room, drowning out the city outside, drowning out the awkwardness.
Hot air blasted against his neck. It was warm.
Suddenly, that specific gentleness—the careful touch, the enveloping warmth—struck a chord deep inside him. It dug up a memory he had deliberately buried under layers of ice and indifference.
A small apartment. The smell of vanilla air freshener and stale cigarette smoke. Rough hands that knew how to be gentle. A voice humming a rock song while drying a small boy's hair after a bath.
Cedric closed his eyes tight. The warmth was incredible. It felt like the sun, but it also felt… strange.
After many long years, Cedric finally felt... inner peace.