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ArabicArknights: The Holy Son's Leisurely Life — Chapter 4
Chapter 4: My Plaza is Quite Large
Stepping out of the austere double doors of the Lungmen Guard Department, Lucian didn’t waste a single second. He immediately broke into a brisk jog, heading east down the awakening streets. It was just past six in the morning—the golden hour when the city’s tireless office workers began their daily grind and hunted for a hot breakfast. Just one traffic light away, less than a hundred meters down the avenue, sat a modest little tea and pastry shop.
The wooden signboard above the entrance proudly displayed the name Lucian Soy Milk. The elegant, flowing calligraphy was the handiwork of Miss Texas from Penguin Logistics, though the blank margins had been thoroughly vandalized with crude, cheerful doodles of angel halos, fluffy wolf tails, and golden-brown croissants.
This humble storefront had been Lucian’s primary livelihood in Lungmen for the past few years. While on paper he was an employee of Penguin Logistics, the reality was quite different. He was, first and foremost, the owner of this breakfast joint. Lungmen was a hyper-capitalist metropolis where every square inch of real estate cost a small fortune in LMD. The monthly rent for the shop far exceeded his logistics salary; if he didn’t hustle on the side, he’d be sleeping on the streets.
The rolling shutters were already pushed up. Inside, Croissant was bustling about, prepping the tables for the morning rush. The moment she spotted Lucian crossing the threshold, she flashed a blindingly sunny smile and threw up a thumbs-up.
“Yo, Brother Lucian! Look at you, bright and early!” she chirped, her tail swishing behind her. “I totally thought Madam Ch’en was gonna keep you tied up in interrogation all morning. Figured you’d skip work. What a shame!”
Boss Lucian merely offered a dry, merciless sneer. “You’re welcome to skip work yourself. Just remember that you’ll be sorting out your own breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of the week.”
The color instantly drained from the Forte girl’s face. “No! Don’t do this to me, Brother Lucian!” Croissant took a running start across the freshly mopped floor, dropping to her knees and sliding perfectly into a desperate, clinging embrace around Lucian’s leg. She rubbed her cheek against his trousers with a practiced, pathetic whine. “I just dropped all my savings on a new pair of boots from Land of Life! I’m completely flat broke! I literally cannot survive without you! Brother Lucian is my Heavenly Father and Savior!”
Lucian stared down at the dramatic display, completely deadpan. “You really shouldn’t throw phrases like that around in front of other Sankta. Exusiai and I might let it slide, but the rest of Laterano isn’t quite so tolerant. They’d probably pull out their Guardian Guns and blast you on the spot.”
The vast majority of the Sankta were devoutly religious. Throwing around titles like ‘Heavenly Father’ for a free meal was a quick way to catch a bullet.
Croissant just stuck out her tongue, entirely unrepentant. “Ehehe~☆ Obviously I’d only say something like that to you, Boss!” She shot him a deliberately exaggerated, flirty wink. It was, admittedly, rather cute.
Unfortunately for her, Lucian was thoroughly immune to her antics. He reached down, grabbed her gently by one of her horns, and hauled her to her feet as she dramatically begged for mercy.
Being the sole male employee at Penguin Logistics came with unique burdens—chief among them being the only person in the entire company who knew how to turn on a stove. The women of Penguin Logistics were all striking, capable, and fiercely independent in a fight, but their domestic skills were nothing short of catastrophic. One glance at the state of their shared dormitory was enough to make any sane man abandon all hope.
As a result, from the day Lucian signed his contract, he had effectively become their permanent, live-in chef. He handled all three meals, keeping them fed and functioning. In exchange, whenever the girls had free time between courier runs, they would drop by to waitress at his shop, saving him a small fortune in hiring costs. Fortunately, despite Croissant’s usual unreliability with money, she was a genuinely hard worker. Her bubbly, outgoing personality made her a massive hit with the neighborhood regulars.
As the morning progressed, the tide of office workers flooded in. Within minutes, the little shop was a chaotic display of clinking bowls and shouted orders. Amidst the bustling crowd, a striking figure stood out at the very end of the line. An elegant, noble-looking blonde beauty in chic casual wear stood on her tiptoes, waving a manicured hand over the sea of heads.
“Yahoo~! I’m here!”
Senior Superintendent Swire had arrived, loud and proud, ready for her morning tea.
An hour later, the breakfast rush finally ebbed, leaving the shop in a comfortable, quiet lull. Miss Swire claimed her usual spot at the counter, finally getting Lucian all to herself.
Holding a freshly steamed char siu bao, she tossed it lightly between her hands with a soft huffing sound to cool it down. Her lips parted, revealing a sharp little canine tooth as she took a delicate but eager bite.
“Om nom~! Oh, this is heavenly,” she mumbled, her eyes curving into happy crescents. “Lucian, your char siu bao is seriously the absolute best in Lungmen. I haven’t had anything this good since I was a little girl!”
“I’m glad it suits your tastes, Miss Swire,” Lucian replied, leaning against the counter. He felt a quiet sense of satisfaction watching her eat. There was an obvious charm in the way she abandoned her usual high-society poise for sheer, unadulterated bliss. For a chef, the highest praise wasn’t empty flattery; it was the genuine, unguarded delight on the diner’s face. Despite her immense wealth and status, the Feline heiress had an incredibly grounded, endearing way of enjoying her food. Lucian knew he could cook for her for a lifetime and never grow tired of that expression.
He slid a warm bowl of freshly ground soy milk across the counter. “You aren’t on duty today? What brings you out this early?”
Swire rolled her vibrant eyes at him. “It’s entirely your fault. I heard through the grapevine that someone from Penguin Logistics got hauled into the station again. I knew it had to be you, so I rushed right over.”
Lucian scratched his cheek, offering an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry for interrupting your beauty sleep.”
She let out a soft hmph, her fluffy, striped tiger tail swishing lazily behind her barstool. “Don’t try to flatter me. You know exactly why I’m here.”
The little tigress lifted the heavy ceramic bowl with both hands and took a long drink. When she lowered it, a thin ring of white foam lingered on her soft upper lip. She tilted her chin up slightly, her gaze locking onto Lucian’s, clearly waiting for him to reach across the counter and wipe it away.
Lucian, however, opted for the path of least resistance. He maintained a perfectly blank expression, pretending he hadn’t noticed the intimate invitation.
Swire’s pout deepened into a scowl. Grabbing a napkin, she aggressively dabbed her own mouth. “That damn dragon has always seen you as a thorn in her side,” she complained, shifting the topic back to Madam Ch’en. “She’s threatened to catch you slipping up more times than I can count. Someone has to keep an eye out for you, right? You need to be careful. Even if your Originium Arts are perfect for hiding things, everyone makes mistakes.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Lucian accepted her genuine concern, his tone softening with sincerity.
Swire was fully aware of the under-the-table dealings between Penguin Logistics and Chief Executive Wei Yenwu. It was that very knowledge that allowed her to act as a buffer between Lucian and the Guard Department. She was a grounded young woman, but she was deeply entrenched in Lungmen’s upper-crust secrets. Compared to the rigid, justice-obsessed Ch’en, Swire was far more pragmatic.
Of course, her pragmatism didn’t mean she lacked personal motives.
Swire finished her bun, took another sip of soy milk, and stared at Lucian’s relaxed, smiling face. Slowly, she reached across the counter. Her soft, manicured fingers brushed against his cheek before she shamelessly pinched the skin, kneading it with affectionate familiarity.
“Are you free later?” she asked, her voice dropping to a softer, more persuasive register as she played with his face. “Come hang out at my family’s plaza. A really atmospheric new cafe just opened up, and they have a grand piano set up for live performances.”
“I’m not really cut out for that kind of high-society sentimentality,” Lucian replied, awkwardly enduring the Feline’s tactile liberties. “Besides, I have to watch the shop, and I’ve got my mobile stall to run this afternoon. I’ll have to pass.”
Rejected yet again, Swire’s mood visibly soured. Her fingers pinched a little harder. “You… You play the piano so beautifully. You’ve obviously practiced for years. It’s a complete waste to just hide that talent away. Are you seriously planning to just run a dingy little tea restaurant for the rest of your life?”
“The piano was just something I was forced to learn as a kid,” Lucian said smoothly, unfazed by her frustration. “And honestly? I think running a tea restaurant for the rest of my life sounds like a pretty good deal.”
Sensing the pressure on his cheek escalating to dangerous levels, Lucian tactfully leaned back, breaking her hold. “Alright, alright. How about a raincheck? On your next day off, we’ll go check out your family’s Grand Ancient Plaza together. Deal?”
“Hmph… Fine. Another day, then.” Mollified by the promise of a date, Swire didn’t push the issue further.
Her approach toward Lucian had always been aggressively active. They were old acquaintances, but ever since a certain incident last year where she had glimpsed a fraction of his true capabilities, she had launched a relentless, bold offensive to win him over.
Lucian was a healthy young man; naturally, he wasn’t opposed to the affections of a beautiful, wealthy, and fiercely loyal girl like Swire. But he carried his own heavy baggage. For now, maintaining the status quo was the safest option.
Swire was highly intelligent. She knew that pushing too hard would only cause a man like Lucian to slip through her fingers and vanish, so she carefully maintained a calculated distance.
Playing with his face, however, was apparently exempt from those boundaries.
Having successfully negotiated a future outing, she went back to her meal, polishing off a staggering total of six buns and two bowls of soy milk. As she dabbed her mouth a final time, she glanced around the empty dining area. “Where’s your red-haired angel? Usually, she’d be hovering around by now, playing the ultimate third wheel with that terrifying, fake customer-service smile. Always looks like she’s half a second away from pulling her gun and offering me some peanuts.”
The description was startlingly accurate, but Lucian just chuckled. “No, no, she’s just messing with you. Exusiai took on a massive corporate order and had to head out of town to meet the client. She won’t be back for a few days.”
Swire hummed thoughtfully, accepting the absence of her rival with casual grace. She reached out, her fingers finding their way back to Lucian’s cheek to resume her idle kneading.
Behind the counter, the small mounted television was broadcasting the morning international news network.
The anchor’s crisp voice filled the quiet shop: “…in a neighboring city to Lungmen, the Ursus Empire’s mobile metropolis of Chernobog has seen a sharp escalation in violent conflicts sparked by the Infected. Upper-echelon officials are reportedly considering the deployment of military police to quell the unrest…”
The world outside was growing more volatile by the day, Lucian mused silently, his eyes lingering on the flashing footage of riots.
Meanwhile, Miss Swire happily continued to squish his face.
[Rhodes’s Note: “Offering some peanuts” is a direct translation of a common Chinese slang phrase (吃花生米 – eating peanuts), which means to shoot someone or execute them with a firearm.]