Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended [Part Two]

CHAPTER 243: Clean Clothes and a Full Tummy

The sun was beginning to dip behind the rooftops when Daisuke led the horse to a rundown old stable nestled behind a side alley. The wood was splintered and half the roof looked ready to cave in at any moment, but it was shelter for now.

As he tied the reins to a post and gave the horse a light pat, the lumped figure draped over the saddle stirred. Father Alvian suddenly snapped awake with a dark, soul-piercing shriek.

"B-BAAAUUUGHHH—!"

The horse reared slightly and snorted in fright, nearly tearing the post from the ground. The children yelped, jumping back with wide eyes.

Without a thought, without even looking, Daisuke reflexively struck the priest clean across the back of the neck with a swift karate chop.

Thwack!

The man collapsed instantly with a groan. But Daisuke wasn't done. For good measure, he reached into his inventory, pulled out a square of cloth, and dusted it with Slumbering Dust. Then he slapped it firmly to the priest's face and muttered a curse under his breath.

The corrupt clergyman slumped back down over the horse's saddle like a sack of moldy potatoes. The children sighed with relief. The horse, now calm, looked back over its shoulder with narrowed eyes, a vein throbbing at its temple.

When Daisuke gave the unconscious man a small kick and watched him roll to the ground with a buuff, the horse gave a short, satisfied neigh—as if to say well-deserved.

"You scared us half to death, you bastard," Daisuke muttered with a scowl.

The children didn't hesitate. With far too much enthusiasm, they began scooping up armfuls of hay and covering the unconscious man like buried treasure... or a corpse. Lio even added a pitchfork as a headstone for effect. When they were done, they looked to Daisuke expectantly.

He chuckled. "Now then... who's ready for some delicious grub?"

The children instantly lit up.

But that joy dimmed the moment they stepped into the restaurant. Unlike Silvern Stitchwear where coin had overridden judgment, the scent of warm food and clinking utensils here came with tight-lipped frowns and narrowed eyes.

The patrons glanced away from their plates with disgust as though the children's presence had spoiled the flavor. Forks stilled. Conversations stopped. The air grew heavy with disdain.

A woman stepped out from behind the counter—a tired, middle-aged woman with flour on her apron and guilt in her eyes. She approached Daisuke hesitantly.

"I'm so sorry, miss..." she said quietly. "But I'm afraid we can't serve you if they're with you."

Daisuke's jaw tensed, but his face remained calm.

"Demihumans aren't welcome here," she said. "You seem kind, but... I have a business to run. The regulars wouldn't come back if I let this pass."

He looked down at the trembling children and then met the woman's eyes again. "I understand," he said in a whisper. "Could we rest in the back for a few minutes before we leave? At the stables?"

The woman nodded quickly. "Of course. I'll pretend I didn't see anything."

Daisuke placed a hand on Mina's head as they turned to go, shielding her from the glares behind them. Then he leaned close and murmured to the children, "Don't let it get to you. They're just scared of what they don't understand."

Back at the stables, Daisuke tossed the horse a few apples, which it crunched down eagerly. Then he snapped his fingers with a smile and a flourish. With a shimmer of light, a makeshift wooden table sprang into existence from his inventory, legs unfolding and setting into the grass with a solid clack.