Chapter 3: The Weight of Gold

Lin Yu navigated the throng, his senses still readjusting to the overwhelming stimuli of the city. The crowd was a river of bodies, and he was a piece of driftwood, unnoticed and insignificant. But his gaze was fixed on the island of calm ahead. Su Wan didn't move as he approached, simply watched him, her expression unreadable but her attention absolute. It was a rare and precious commodity in his life.

As he drew closer, her sharp eyes took in everything. She noted the deeper-than-usual slump of his shoulders under the now-empty pack, the faint tremor of exhaustion in his hands, and the almost imperceptible limp in his right leg.

"Iron Spears again?" she asked, her voice low and even, but with a hard edge to it. It wasn't really a question.

Lin Yu gave a weary nod, stopping in front of her. He unclenched his fist and opened his palm, revealing the small, pathetic collection of coins. "Payday."

Su Wan's gaze dropped to the coins, then flicked back up to his face. A muscle in her jaw tightened. She didn't need to count them to know it was a pittance, an insult disguised as a wage. It was less than a standard Pack Mule's cut for a simple D-Rank run, let alone a C-Rank Grotto clearance with a mini-boss.

"Kaelen is a thief," she stated, not with anger, but with the cold finality of a judge passing sentence. "One day, his reputation for cheating his own will catch up to him."

"Not today," Lin Yu murmured, the bitterness a familiar taste in his mouth. He pocketed the coins, their weight both pathetically light and crushingly heavy. "It is what it is."

"No," she countered, her voice sharp enough to cut through his resignation. "It's what you let it be because you have no other choice. There's a difference."

Her words struck a nerve, not because they were cruel, but because they were true. She didn't pity him; she saw the injustice and named it, and that was infinitely more validating.

He let out a long breath, the tension in his shoulders easing a fraction. "I need to get some food. And new boots." He gestured vaguely at his feet. The soles of his current pair were worn paper-thin, offering little protection from the hard pavement. Every step was a gamble against a sharp stone or a twisted ankle—an injury that would put him out of work completely.

"Together?" Su Wan asked. It was her standard invitation.

"Together," he confirmed, a faint smile touching his lips for the first time that day.

They walked away from the grand entrance of the Hunter's Association building and into the labyrinthine side streets that catered to the working class of their profession. Here, the air was thick with the smells of sizzling meat, spicy broth, and roasting nuts, a welcome change from the grotto's mildew. The neon signs were smaller, some of them flickering, and the Hunters were less polished, their armor more dented, their faces more tired. This was Lin Yu's world.

He led her to a small, open-air stall with a hand-painted sign that read "Uncle Wei's Noodle House." A large, steaming vat of broth bubbled at the front, tended by a stout, balding man with a friendly face. The menu was simple and cheap.

Lin Yu stood before it, his mind a flurry of calculations. The weight of the coins in his pocket was a constant, tangible reminder of his limitations. The choice before him was a cruel one.

He could afford the "Hunter's Special"—a large bowl of thick noodles with generous chunks of roasted reptilian meat and nutrient-rich vegetables. It was a proper meal, something that would fill his stomach, replenish his energy, and make the ache in his bones recede. The smell alone made his mouth water. But it would cost him nearly all of his earnings.

Or, he could get the "Basic Ration"—a smaller bowl of plain noodles in a thin broth, with a few scraps of vegetable for flavor. It was enough to stave off hunger, but it wouldn't be satisfying. It would, however, leave him with enough coin to put towards a new pair of boots. Not good boots, not even decent ones. But a pair of sturdy, second-hand leather boots from the night market, ones that wouldn't have him limping by the end of his next job.

A proper meal now, or the ability to work without pain tomorrow. This was the constant, grinding arithmetic of his poverty. Every decision was a trade-off, a sacrifice of one necessity for another. He stared at the menu, the delicious smell of the Hunter's Special warring with the practical, painful reality of his situation. His stomach growled in protest, already mourning the choice his mind was being forced to make.

He was just about to order the Basic Ration, the words forming on his tongue, when Su Wan stepped up beside him.

"Two Hunter's Specials, Uncle Wei," she said, her voice clear and decisive. "Extra meat in both."

Lin Yu's head snapped towards her. "Su Wan, no. I can't—"

"And two bottles of chilled herbal tea," she continued, completely ignoring him as she tapped her own wrist-mounted payment device against the stall's terminal. A pleasant chime confirmed the transaction. "My treat."

"I can't let you do that," he insisted, a flush of shame and gratitude warming his cheeks. "I'll pay you back. Tomorrow, after my next run."

Su Wan turned to face him fully, her expression softening. "Lin Yu," she said, her voice firm but kind. "A Hunter who can't eat properly is a Hunter who gets injured. A Hunter who gets injured can't work. Consider this an investment in my friend's health, not a loan. Now, are you going to argue with me, or are you going to take the food?"

Uncle Wei, having already loaded two large, steaming bowls onto a tray, slid it across the counter with a knowing smile. The aroma was intoxicating. Thick, hand-pulled noodles swam in a rich, savory broth. Piled on top were tender slices of crimson-colored roast beast, crunchy green vegetables, a perfectly soft-boiled egg, and a sprinkle of chopped herbs. It was more than a meal; it was a statement. It was warmth and sustenance and a moment of reprieve.

Defeated by her unyielding logic and the overwhelming appeal of the food, Lin Yu relented. "Thank you," he said, the words feeling small and inadequate. He picked up one of the bowls, the ceramic warm against his calloused hands. The heat seeped into his fingers, a comforting sensation that traveled up his arms.

"You're welcome," Su Wan replied simply, picking up her own bowl. "There's a bench with a decent view around the corner. Let's not let this get cold."

She started walking, and Lin Yu followed, carrying the bowl of noodles like a precious treasure. For a few brief moments, the gnawing anxiety about boots and money and the cruelty of men like Kaelen faded into the background. It was replaced by the simple, profound weight of the hot meal in his hands, a gift freely given, a kindness that was worth more than all the gold in the city.