Chapter 20: The Inspector's Arrival
The inspector could arrive tomorrow. Or the day after.
Didn't matter.
My anxiety had already unpacked its bags and settled into my chest like it paid rent. My fingers fumbled, nearly dropping a whole box of imported lighters as I stocked them on the display shelf.
Click. Clack.
Each sound echoed too loud in the empty shop.
This time should've been different. Susan—Lakanbini Susan now—was leading the charge. I was supposed to be backup vocals, not frontman. But when the lead singer asks you to hold a note, you don't crack under pressure. You sing.
I looked around the store—our little shop of dreams—and whispered into the quiet like Lola could still hear me:
"I can do it, Lola."
She used to say, "Do what you can. Help how you can. That's what makes you a good man."
The shelves were tidy. The samples were ready. The solar display glinted under morning light that filtered in soft and gold.
This shop, this town—
If the inspector liked what they saw, we might land a guild branch. More guilds meant more adventurers. More business. More future.
"Alright," I muttered, trying to pump myself up. My palms were clammy. I wiped them on my pants.
"Showtime for Sarimanook."
---
Ding!
The bell above the door exploded into sound.
Marikit barreled in like she'd been chased by a particularly determined manticore.
"Kuya Pepito—!" she gasped, hunched over, hands on her knees, sucking air like a dying vacuum cleaner.
"You gotta come. Now!"
I spun around, my pulse leaping like a startled cat.
"What's wrong? Is the inspector early?"
She shook her head, wild and fast—tiny beads of sweat launching off like fairy dust.
"No—Miss Susan said… you're needed at the Twin Moon Adventurers Guild. Right away."
My heart stuttered.
The Twin Moon Guild?
Not the Town Hall. Not the shop. Not the grand display.
All the wares I'd laid out—carefully arranged, meticulously prepped—were now nothing more than props in an empty stage.
"The Whispering Seagulls Guild? Why?" I asked, dread beginning to curdle in my stomach.
Marikit's eyes were wide. Serious.
"I don't know. But she said it was urgent."
A chill coiled around my spine.
Something was off. Very off.
---
We sprinted down the road. Marikit was already ahead, waving me on like an anxious traffic enforcer. I grabbed my enchanted Phone—just in case—and caught up.
When we reached the massive doors of the Guild Hall, I raised a fist.
Knock-knock-knock.
"It's me. I'm coming in!"
"Me too!" Marikit piped, clinging to the hem of my shirt like a human backpack.
Inside was… wrong.
The silence wasn't peaceful—it was loaded. Like the room itself was holding its breath.
To our left stood the Alimpatak adventuring crew, stiff and polished like soldiers before an execution. Across the hall, Lakanbini Susan stood poised in a gown that dipped just low enough to say yes, I planned this.
Tina was behind the counter, arms folded so tight her forearms looked ready to crack. Her glare could have started a small fire. Not at me—but aimed directly at Susan.
And in the middle of it all:
Mr. Torente.
The Inspector.
Stocky. Balding. Wearing a jacket that screamed "unflattering authority."
He was fussing with a tapestry on the wall like it owed him money.
"Oh, you're here," Susan said casually, like we'd just run into each other at the grocery store. Her smile was stretched thin.
"Yeah. Got the goods, too." I lifted my rucksack like a warrior presenting a trophy.
She leaned in—close enough I could smell her perfume. Vanilla, soft, with that powdery note she always wore during fundraisers.
"Thank you. Listen… the inspector's being a bit… difficult."
"Difficult?" I whispered.
"I apologize in advance, but if he's a little rude… could you just roll with it?"
I gave her a look.
"Susan. I worked in corporate."
I held up fingers.
"I've had supervisors scream about fonts. I've been gaslit by HR. I've survived a merger and two Christmas parties. I can take rude."
She let out a breath that was more laugh than sigh.
"Thanks, Pepito. Really."
"But why are we here?" I asked. "Wasn't he supposed to come to the shop?"
Her smile stiffened.
"He insisted."
Insisted.
That word echoed like a dropped coin in a church.
I glanced toward Mr. Torente.
This wasn't just redirection.
It was a flex.
He wasn't inspecting us.
He was testing us—on his own turf.
Dehin's Goli. Guild takeover tactics. This had whiff of hostile negotiation.
I followed her gaze. Tina let out a sound like a fox trying not to snarl.
"Negotiations never go exactly to plan," I muttered.
"You're right about that," Susan said. Then, in her official voice—the one that made boardrooms sit up—
"Mr. Torente, allow me to introduce you to our town's top merchant, Pepito."
He turned, turtle-slow. His eyes scanned me the way someone might assess a cracked bowl at a flea market.
No smile.
No nod.
Not even a twitch.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Torente," I said, offering a small bow. "I run a shop here in Sarimanook."
"I'm his employee! My name is Marikit!" the girl chirped beside me, bowing so deep her bangs nearly touched her shoes.
No response.
His eyes passed over us like we were furniture. He turned back to Susan, adjusting his sleeves like we hadn't spoken.
It wasn't neglect.
It was deliberate.
And I'd seen that look before.
In HR meetings. In hostile office takeovers.
This man wasn't just an inspector.
He was a shark.
And he'd tasted blood in the water.
---
To Be Continued...
---