“What are your thoughts on making noodles for me kid?”

The old man said with a smirk on his face. He looked to be around 60 years old, getting up there in age but still able to move around. He wore a pair of brown slacks, ripped so they only reached slightly below the knee, and a white lace up shirt similar to the undershirts you’d see pirates wear in movies.

He would’ve looked like a pretty normal and unassuming old timer, if it wasn’t for his long shoulder length hair colored with pink streaks, and the black heart tattoo covering his left cheek. He’s probably the most eccentric looking person I’ve met since crossing over into this world.

“What?”

I honestly didn’t know what else to say. I’ve been dragged halfway across the continent for the last few months, thrown into the southern slums and now some weird guy is asking about noodles?

“Ahh ‘pologies there. I must not be makin’ much sense right now. Let me repeat myself, would ye like to work at this old timer’s noodle shop?”

I didn’t answer, instead I stood up warily while clenching the dagger in my pocket, as he approached me with a careless gait. It seems he sensed my unease so he stepped back and put his hands in the air.

“Woah woah there, I get I’m askin’ this outta nowhere, kid. Tell ya what, I’ll stay right ‘ere and you can ask this old timer whatever yer curious about.”

“How did you find me”

“Well ye made quite the commotion passin by this sector's streets. It don’t look like much but we ‘ere are a pretty tight knit community, we recognize our own and know when someone is an outsider. Twas’ easy to know which turns ye took. All I had to do was ask around.”

“Oh”

Well that was a bit embarrassing but at least I learned a bit of info about how the community functions.

“Anythin’ else ye wanna know kid?”

“What do you mean by work in your noodle shop, and why me?”

“Well this old timer owns a pretty well known noodle shop round these parts, but I’m gettin old and I think its about time I find a successor. Can’t just let it burn when I pass. After all, the ol’ shop’s my legacy. I dedicated this life to it.”

He said this with a certain seriousness mixed into his happy go lucky tone. He's either one hell of an actor or this shop really meant this much to him.

“But why me, I’m sure there isn’t any lack of manpower in a place like this. There are probably hundreds of free able bodies just like me in every alleyway”

“Thats where yer wrong kid, cause yer a noble aren’t ya?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“I-”

Before I could refute him, he continued his case confidently

“No need to deny it kid, not just any outcast has adept level warriors personally oversee his exile”

Hearing that made my heart sink. This was a big problem, someone noticed my exile, and along with it my identity and possible mana proficiency. It could trigger the attention of a lot of unsavory people no matter how you looked at it if this information were to get out, if it hasn't already.

“Ah but don’t worry I’ve got no intention to expose my disciple candidat and I’m pretty sure no one else noticed, I’ve just had pretty good eyes since I was born to yer exiler's misfortune”

“What do you mean?”

“Anyway lets go back to yer previous question. Since yer a noble or I guess former noble, you’ve probably been trained in business and management since ye could walk. Though probably basic, its much more than most of the folk here ever get in their lifetime. Also yer status as an exile means ye most likely don’t have affiliations elsewhere which is a lot rarer than ye think.”

Surprisingly or unsurprisingly he evaded my question. Though I can’t really call him trustworthy, I guess his words can calm down my worries for a bit.

That aside, this would be a good opportunity. One of the most important things I need right now is a “home base”, somewhere I can stay without needing to watch my back too much. I can’t just roam around aimlessly forever after all. Being taken under his wing will also solve my money, food and information problems all in one fell swoop.

Above all, assuming the things he said about his shop being his legacy is true, this man will be incentivized to earnestly take care of me, his best hope for his legacy, properly.

“Is that all of your reasons?”

“Heh, I like ye kid. Whatever yer cause for exile probably took a number on ya. It seems that any traces of childlike naivete is gone, but I guess that's better for me since I’ll have less to teach you. And to answer yer question, yes, thats all.”

"..."

“I’ll be blunt, whatever ugly happenings you went through have probably discouraged you to trust in the kindness of people, so don’t put your faith in that. Don’t count on the kindness of my heart, instead believe in my selfish will to keep my name alive through that noodle shop.”

“So is that a yes or a no, kid?”

“Is that the way you’re gonna talk to a seven year old? But yeah sure, I’ll be the heir to your little empire. Nice working with you”

With that, I stood up and offered him my hand for a handshake.

Oh how I hope this guy isn’t scamming me. Well even if the chances are high, I don’t really have a lot of straws to grasp at, at this moment.

“Well the things ye experienced probably made you age 10 years in a day, I don’t think I should be babyin’ someone like that.”

With that he took my hand and shook it. His grip was a lot firmer than I thought for an old man like him, it seems noodle making was a valid way to strengthen your arms.

“I’m Julius, what should I call you, old man?”

“People ‘round these parts call me Kenneth, but I guess to you I’ll be master or maybe grandpa if you want, hehe”

“Not in a million years”

This guys weird face and annoying quips aside, this situated seems to have taken an interesting turn.

Kenneth huh? He knew exactly how to win me over, attacking my logical side and baring all of his motives on his sleeve so that I come around.

These types of guys were the scariest kinds of competitors in my past life, those that knew how to "read the room" so to speak and make judgements on these sorts of situations with pinpoint accuracy, caused the worst loses to my business back then. Especially so when they were driven by something, like mister Kenneth over here.