Sensing that the atmosphere was growing too tense, Emuksu suddenly changed the subject, a smile breaking across his face. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he turned to Ronnel and asked in a lighthearted tone:
"Hey, want to know something interesting?"
Ronnel, intrigued, played along. "What is it?"
He was genuinely curious—after all, crafting something as overpowered as [Angel's Breath] must come with a hefty price, right? The atmosphere eased instantly, the tension dissolving like mist under the morning sun.
"Actually, it's not much~" Emuksu began, his expression entirely serious. "But it does mean I can't eat my favorite salty tofu pudding for a long time. Sweet and spicy versions are still okay, but salty? Forget it."
Ronnel blinked, processing this revelation. "What? Why?"
Emuksu pressed on dramatically, ignoring the question. "And it's not just the tofu pudding. I can't eat noodles the way I like either. Forget about rich broths or chewy wide noodles. Nope! Only flimsy, flavorless thin noodles for me. Oh, and don't even get me started on cilantro. That stuff is the root of all evil."
Emuksu proceeded to list several other bizarre restrictions, from summer fans to staggered TV schedules.
Ronnel raised a brow. "If you were on the streets of Meteor City, someone would've clobbered you for this by now."
But he understood, in a way. Disagreeing on the tofu debate? That was sacrilege. Sweet tofu pudding? An affront to nature! Ronnel nodded solemnly, finding unexpected camaraderie with Emuksu in their shared love of salty flavors.
Before long, the two had bonded over their culinary preferences and were talking animatedly about the creative limits and trade-offs in crafting props. While Emuksu did most of the talking, Ronnel focused on his work, occasionally chiming in with dry commentary.
By evening, Emuksu clapped Ronnel on the back. "Brother, tonight I'm treating you. Let's have a few drinks!"
"Brother?" Ronnel arched a brow but smirked.
Ignoring him, Emuksu headed to the kitchen and returned with plates of food and two bottles of wine.
"This is no ordinary drink. It's made from the finest wines harvested from the [Wine-Producing Fountain]. I've spent years perfecting the blend with a [Regulator]. This is a masterpiece, my friend."
Ronnel recognized the reference—on Greed Island, water from the [Wine-Producing Fountain] could ferment into exceptional wine after a week. He watched as Emuksu poured, the intoxicating aroma filling the room.
Meanwhile, in the treatment room next door, Ging lay in the healing pod, his nose twitching. He grumbled under his breath.
"Those two... living the high life without me."
The wine was as exquisite as promised, and the pair drank until they could no longer stay awake. Ronnel woke the next day with a pounding headache, sunlight streaming through the windows. As he groggily sat up, Emuksu handed him a glass of tomato juice.
"Drink up. Your weapons are nearly done," Emuksu said, yawning.
Ronnel gulped the juice, feeling the headache ease as he followed Emuksu to the workshop. There, three weapons awaited him, gleaming in the morning light.
The Subai Saber and Subai Sword had been restored to their original glory—the bronze handles gleaming, and their aqua-blue blades razor-sharp. Ronnel ran his fingers along the elegant sage inscriptions, now perfectly intact.
"These are incredible," Ronnel muttered, awe coloring his voice.
"And this," Emuksu grinned, gesturing to the third weapon, "is the real masterpiece."
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