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The Gate Traveler (Slice of Life LitRPG)
B3—Chapter 49: Caught Bread-Handed

B3—Chapter 49: Caught Bread-Handed

Pulling out my list of things to do in Crystalspire, I started crossing off the places I had already visited. The Mana-Infused Bakery was almost scratched off too, but something made me hesitate at the last second. I still wanted to inspect those ovens. With only the bakery and the Arcane Bazaar left, I checked the Map to locate the bazaar. It was at the city’s northern end, far from the hotel. I figured it could wait until tomorrow. Meanwhile, my thoughts circled back to the bakery. The outcome would probably be the same even if I find another family member and try to bribe them.

Finally, I took matters into my own hands.

“Stay here. I’m going to check something,” I told Rue.

Turning invisible, I flew toward the bakery. When I arrived, the place was still open. A spot on one roof overlooking the building seemed perfect, so I settled in comfortably and waited. An hour after sunset, the workers started leaving in groups, chatting loudly. It took about an hour before everyone was gone, and two men locked all the doors. I flew to the back of the building—since the front only had doors with large windows covered by wooden shutters at night—and hoped to find a way inside.

Success!

A row of rectangular windows remained open, and as I approached them, I felt heat emanating from them. I examined one window and saw that it was at ceiling height above a large, square stone structure.

One of the ovens?

When I examined the windows one by one, I saw they were all above a stone structure at ceiling height, with heat coming out of them. I checked the window’s height, and it looked like I could fit inside. It was maybe a little narrow, but I was sure I could manage.

After flying another round around the building to ensure there was no one inside—at least from what I could see—I flew back behind the building and slipped through one window. I had to wiggle a bit, but I made it through.

I landed next to the first oven, opened one door, cast Adaptable Light Ball, and sent it into the oven. The inside of the oven was also just stone. It didn’t have any runes, magic script, or anything else—just a very large stone oven with three levels of baking. It was like a pizza oven, only much bigger. I examined the three levels one by one, but the result was the same. There was nothing there but an oven.

I sat down, closed my eyes, deployed my mana sense, and explored the oven. It was strange—my mana felt like it was going through a screen or film that was trying to prevent me from understanding what was going on inside. I stubbornly continued to push in more and more, but found nothing—a massive stone cube with three spaces inside on three levels. There was nothing beyond that. The only thing different was the feeling, as if something were trying to prevent me from examining the oven.

It was a bust.

I flew toward one window to get out, and the window slammed shut.

Huh?!

As I flew towards another window, it, too, slammed shut.

I began to worry.

One by one, I flew to all the windows, and they slammed shut one after another.

I stood and rubbed my head, feeling the short hair that had grown back. I was at a loss for what to do.

Wait while I’m invisible until they open in the morning and fly out?

Maybe the windows will open again?

I took out an armchair and a book and waited. I saw no reason to stand and wait.

Half an hour or so later, I heard noises from the front of the store—people talking. To be on the safe side, I flew under the ceiling, close to one door that led to the back room with the stoves. I listened carefully and could discern that the voices were coming from the part of the store farther from where I was, so I flew there. As I approached the door, I understood what the people were saying.

“I’m telling you, there’s an intruder here!”

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“But father! You saw that the door was locked and the shop was empty.”

“He’s in the back, invisible, and can fly.”

How did he know that?

“He’s waiting for us above the door.”

What the hell?

I moved a little away from the door and waited, listening.

“Okay, I’ll check. But you’ll see you’re wrong. There’s no one here.”

“One day, when you inherit the bakery, you’ll understand. Right now, trust me. There’s an invisible intruder here who can fly. The windows have closed and trapped him inside, but we must catch him.”

That really doesn’t sound good!

The door opened, and a guy with a crossbow in his hand stood at the door. He was pretty large—both tall and thick, bordering on fat. He turned back and said, “There’s nobody here.”

“I told you he’s invisible! What can’t you understand?” The other person sounded angry.

“Father!” he said in an exasperated tone. “There is no such thing as invisible people. Mother is right—you work too much. You’re beginning to imagine things.”

I saw him jerk forward, and an obese old man was standing behind him with his hands on his back. He lifted one arm, pointed to my exact location, and said, “There! He’s there! Shoot him!”

With apparent reluctance, the guy shook his head, picked up the crossbow, and fired. Of course, I wasn’t there anymore. I’m not stupid.

The father kept pointing at my exact location each time and yelling, “There! There! There!”

The guy shot every time, but his heart wasn’t in it. Slowly, they made their way inside and finally cleared the door. While the son was loading the next bolt, I used the opportunity to fly from the oven area to the shop area. This was the far-right store on the street side I hadn’t visited because, based on the smell, I thought it only contained bread. The entire store had wooden shelves that reached from floor to ceiling.

“He flew to the store!” the father shouted.

With a shake of his head, the son headed towards the store area.

The father pointed again, “There!”

In an unyielding tone, the son told him, “I’m not going to shoot bolts at the bread shelves. Forget it. There’s nobody here. Let’s go home, and I’ll tell Mother you need a break.”

The father shouted, “He’s there! I tell you, he’s there! Shoot him! Shoot him!” And kept pointing at my location.

The son hugged his father’s shoulders and spoke as if he were talking to a little boy who had trouble understanding—very patiently and condescendingly. “Yes, I believe you he’s there. But he’s invisible, so I can’t hit him. If I keep shooting in the store, I’ll break the windows. There’s no money or anything of value here. Let’s go home and have a nice dinner with Mother. Tomorrow, everything will be fine.”

“There’s something precious here. You don’t understand. He’s there! Shoot him!” And again, he pointed to my exact location.

By now, I knew exactly what the valuable thing they had in the store was. The slamming windows were my first clue. But that he knew where I was every time removed all doubt. They had a core here, and the father was the Dungeon Master. The son didn’t know about it yet.

The son patted him on the back again and gently pushed him towards the front door. “It’s all right, Dad. I believe you there is someone here. Let’s go home.”

By this point, the father was already shaking with anger. His nerves made him shake so badly that he resembled an enormous lump of fat vibrating on a shaker.

“I always knew you were useless!” He yelled at his son. “That’s why your sister will inherit the bakery and not you! We would have caught him if she had come with me!”

The son continued to lead him stubbornly towards the door. “We both know you’ll never leave the bakery to her. With her temper, we won’t have any customers left in a year. She’ll drive them all away. Let’s go home; dinner’s getting cold, and Mother will worry about us.”

“You are stupid!” The father shouted, pointing to my position again. “He’s right there. Shoot him already. He’s just hovering there in the air and listening to us. He must be laughing at me for having such a stupid son.”

“You’re right, Dad. I’m a complete fool. Let’s go home. Tomorrow, everything will be fine.” The son continued to lead the father to the door. I saw the exact moment when the father realized he wouldn’t be able to convince him. He sighed deeply, shook his head, and facepalmed, muttering, “Why did the spirits punish me with an idiot son and a daughter who erupts like a volcano at every opportunity? What did I do wrong?”

The son continued to pat him on the back encouragingly and lead him towards the door. I hovered over them and waited for the son to open the door. The father looked up at me and said, “You can laugh as much as you want. It’s better than crying like me.” He shook his head, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

When the son opened the door, I immediately flew out and hovered over the door. I felt sorry for the father. They continued walking down the street, and I tried to make telepathic contact with his mind. The father stopped in surprise and said in my mind, “What do you want now? It’s not enough that you embarrassed me in front of my son? He now thinks I’m crazy!”

“First, I apologize. I was just curious about the ovens. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you have a dungeon core.”

The father stopped in shock and started panting.

“Don’t worry,” I told him. “I won’t tell anyone and won’t steal your core. I also have one. That’s how I understood exactly what you have. As for your son, the fault is yours more than mine. Tell him about the core. Next time, he’ll believe you and won’t think you’re crazy. Secrets in the family are not healthy.”

I saw his shoulders go up and down as if he were sighing, “Yes. You’re probably right. Still, I’m furious that you embarrassed me in front of my son.”

“I’m very sorry,” I sent. “And he’s right about your daughter. She definitely has an explosive temper.”

I flew up and then towards the hotel.