Chapter 11: The Father

Glen pulled out a chair and sat down, smiling.

"These are utensils from my homeland. Let me show you."

He deftly picked up a piece of stir-fried meat with the chopsticks and popped it into his mouth.

Layla and Bonnie exchanged a wide-eyed glance, their expressions filled with intense curiosity.

Mimicking Glen's grip, they fumbled at first, but to Glen's surprise, they quickly managed to grasp pieces of food.

Faster learners than I expected.

He'd already mentally prepared to fetch forks and spoons; letting them try the chopsticks had just been a whim. Now, it seemed unnecessary.

As the first bite touched her tongue, Layla couldn't help but close her eyes slightly. The flavor was intoxicating. While she maintained her composure, the enjoyment was evident.

Bonnie, with her naturally exuberant spirit, held back nothing.

"Oh! This taste! It's incredible!"

Glen's chest swelled with unmistakable pride, his carefully maintained calm façade nearly cracking.

"You're students, right? On holiday today?" he asked casually between bites.

"Yes, Sir," Layla replied. Though she longed to savor the food like Bonnie, her manners prevailed. "Bonnie and I attend Mace Academy. It's a holiday, but classes resume tomorrow."

"Hmm…" Glen nodded slowly. "Mind if I ask… does your curriculum include magic?"

The question drew identical, peculiar looks from both girls. Bonnie paused mid-cheekful, her gaze mirroring Layla's bewilderment.

"To learn magic," Layla explained gently, "one must seek a dedicated mentor at a Magic Tower. The academy doesn't teach it, though we do cover some foundational theory."

"Ah… my mistake. Not really familiar with how things work here," Glen admitted, feeling slightly abashed.

"I see," Layla said, tactfully avoiding further inquiry.

It wasn't entirely Glen's fault. The original owner of this body possessed scant education—roughly equivalent to a primary school graduate back on Earth. As a spoiled rich heir, he'd preferred squandering his family's wealth over attending classes. The gaps in his basic knowledge were vast.

Soon, all three had eaten their fill. Glen, with his hearty appetite, had prepared plenty. By eating a little less himself, there was more than enough for his guests.

The casual conversation over the meal bridged the distance between them. The girls gradually relaxed, revealing their naturally lively personalities. Glen, too, shed his initial reserve, his occasional jokes drawing genuine laughter.

Bonnie patted her stomach contentedly.

"Mr. Glen, this lunch was truly wonderful. I'd do anything to taste food like this every day."

Layla nudged her playfully.

"Who'd be willing to cook for a greedy cat like you? You'd bankrupt them in no time!"

Glen chuckled.

"I'd be happy to cook for you again, Bonnie. But you'll need the courage to come back here."

Bonnie visibly shrank at the thought of the town's eerie atmosphere.

"Maybe not…"

Her reaction made both Glen and Layla laugh.

After Glen cleared the dishes, Layla's voice took on its apologetic tone again.

"This visit feels rather imperfect. My gift of thanks seems inadequate next to such a meal. My mother would surely scold me."

She gestured to her woven basket containing fruits, vegetable bread, and similar items—no meat, which held significant value in these times.

"Sincerity matters more than the price of a gift," Glen said earnestly. "Feeling your genuine gratitude is enough."

He genuinely liked this polite, well-meaning girl; she felt like his first true friend in this world.

His simple words struck Layla deeply. On Earth, such a sentiment might be commonplace, a platitude of basic manners. Here, however, it resonated with profound weight.

"I will remember your words," she stated solemnly.

"Me too," Bonnie added, equally moved.

They chatted a while longer. The girls cautiously asked about the town, but Glen, knowing little himself, could only answer honestly.

Eventually, sensing their readiness to leave, Glen took the initiative.

"Alright, home's a fair walk. Best not to be caught out after dark. Best get going before your families worry."

Recognizing the sense in his words, Layla and Bonnie bid him polite farewells.

After seeing them off, Glen silently commanded his beast to shadow and protect the girls. His mind, however, was already fixed on his plan to earn money. It was time to act.

"Mr. Glen is quite an interesting person," Layla mused as they walked the quiet dirt track. "Perhaps we could visit him more."

"I think so too," Bonnie agreed, then added cautiously, "But Layla, I still think this place isn't safe. We should only come with more friends."

"Hmm…" Layla thought for a moment, then smiled. "So… you'll come with me again?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes dramatically.

"You need a strong boy! The two of us together isn't exactly secure!"

"Pork?" Layla scoffed, picturing the slightly chubby, red-haired boy trembling in fear here. "He's even jumpier than you."

Bonnie puffed up indignantly.

"I am not jumpy!"

Then, remembering Pork, she frowned.

"But doesn't he boast about becoming a knight? How can he be scared?"

"That's just because you don't know him…" Layla began, seemingly about to reveal some embarrassing tales about Pork, when a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Thank the heavens! Layla, I've been waiting here forever. Thank goodness you're unharmed."

A short, middle-aged man with a deep brown beard stepped onto the path ahead. Two burly men, a head taller than him, loomed at his back.

Layla froze, her voice laced with shock.

"Father…?"

It was Bob, Layla's father.

Bonnie looked from the men to Layla, unsure what to say.

"My child," Bob said, his voice dripping with false warmth as he beckoned. "You can't imagine how worried I was when I heard you'd come to this dreadful place! It's dangerous here! Come, let Papa take you home."

The two stone-faced men behind him radiated menace, unnerving both girls.

"No!" Layla's voice was steel, fury rising as she remembered her mother's battered state in the clinic. "I won't go with you! You nearly killed Mother!"

Bob's eyelid twitched. His smile faltered briefly before returning, laced with pathetic excuses.

"My dear, that was… an accident. I'd had too much to drink. And your mother… she shouldn't have withheld the money. None of it would have happened if she'd just handed it over."

"Enough, Bob!" One of the brutes behind him snapped, his voice rough with impatience. "We ain't got time for this father-daughter rubbish."

He stepped forward, his massive hand reaching out to grab the girls.

Seeing their malicious intent, fear seized Layla and Bonnie. They spun around to flee.

But two young girls were no match for grown men. They barely took a step before large hands clamped down on their shoulders.

A brutal yank sent both Layla and Bonnie sprawling onto the dirt. They struggled to rise, but the men pinned them effortlessly and began dragging them back the way they'd come.

"Let us go! You monsters!" the girls screamed.

Bob offered a weak, almost inaudible protest.

"Be… be a bit gentler. She is my daughter..."

The other brute holding Layla snorted, a cruel laugh escaping him.

"Your daughter? Heh… Not since you sold her to the Boss."