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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
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After Everyone's Moved In:-
I leaned against the living room wall, sneaking a bite of chocolate I'd swiped from the kitchen. Sanji had claimed that place as his domain and banned me after my last cooking disaster, but I couldn't resist. Just as I savored the sweet, a voice cut through the air.
"Oh, a chocolate thief, huh?" Sanji stood in the kitchen doorway, hands on his hips, smirking like he'd caught me red-handed.
"Shit!" I bolted, clutching the bar as I sprinted across the living room.
"Get back here, you little sneak!" Sanji yelled, chasing after me, his long legs closing the gap fast.
"You're gonna have to try harder than that!" I taunted, dodging around a couch.
"Why, you—!" he growled, nearly grabbing my shirt.
The chase lasted a solid five minutes—me weaving through furniture, Sanji hot on my heels, both of us laughing like idiots.
Zoro watched from the couch, arms crossed. "Is it always like this around here?"
Alucard glanced up from his book, smirking. "Pretty much."
"Good," Zoro said, grinning.
Asia giggled from her spot on the floor. "Yeah, it's fun!"
I vaulted up to the second-floor landing, finally out of Sanji's reach. "Ha! Safe!" I checked my phone and froze. "Oh, I got a text from Sirzechs."
Sona looked up from her spot at the table. "What's it say?"
"He's picking me up soon," I said, scanning the message. "Something about the rest of my reward for beating that prick."
Sona tilted her head. "What all did you get for taking him down?"
"Well, the evil pieces, for one," I said, then grinned. "The rest? That's a secret."
Sanji crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Secret or not, you're not going anywhere 'til you eat."
I perked up, my stomach already growling. "Oh, I'm not arguing with that."
We piled into the kitchen, where Sanji had outdone himself—biscuits and gravy steaming on platters, crispy bacon, fried apples, and fluffy scrambled eggs. My mouth watered just looking at it.
….
Breakfast:-
Sanji leaned back in his chair, watching me shovel food like my life depended on it. "Now that's something I haven't seen in a while."
"You're telling me," Zoro said, eyeing my plate—or rather, my third plate.
Asia blinked, curious. "What's that?"
"A bottomless pit," Sanji said, smirking.
"Hey!" I protested through a mouthful of biscuit. "I'm a growing boy!"
Orphis snickered from across the table. "Technically, a growing dragon."
"Oh, shove it," I shot back, rolling my eyes.
She leaned closer, her grin turning mischievous. "I'd like to shove you in my—"
"Enough!" I yelped, clapping my hands over my ears. "My innocent ears can't handle that!"
Koneko and Sona snorted in unison. "Innocent, my ass," they said, then froze, staring at each other.
Koneko raised an eyebrow. "Wait—you slept with him too?"
Sona's cheeks flushed faintly, but she held her ground. "Y-Yes."
Zoro barked out a laugh. "Well, damn. We've got a ladies' man."
"Shut it," I grumbled, my face heating up.
The doorbell chimed, saving me from further embarrassment. "Would you look at that—time to go!" I bolted for the door and yanked it open to find Sirzechs standing there in jeans and a t-shirt, looking way too casual for a guy like him.
"Welcome to the Crap Café," I said with a grin.
He sighed, shaking his head. "Come on, let's go."
….
We stopped in front of a shop, its sign gleaming in bold letters: Lightning Dragon Works. I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Sirzechs smirked, hands in his pockets. "You left me to the sharks, remember?"
"Technically shark—Grayfia's one of a kind," I said, chuckling. "But I dig it."
"Come on, I'll show you around." He led me inside, and my jaw dropped. Racks lined the walls, packed with weapons, gear, and artifacts glowing faintly with power. A few display cases sat in the windows, catching the light.
"I put a spell on this place," Sirzechs explained. "Only people who know about the supernatural can see it or step inside. Keeps the riffraff out."
"Smart," I said, nodding.
"Oh, and I've already tipped off the angel and fallen angel factions," he added. "They know you're open for business starting today."
"Nice," I said, impressed. He tossed me a key, and I caught it mid-air. "Thanks, man."
I stepped into the shop's main room, eyeing the bare walls lined with hooks just begging for weapons. Time to make this place my own.
I started with the Class A gear—swords, axes, and spears—hanging them carefully, their polished blades glinting under the shop's warm lights.
In the corner, I set up a rack for the Class B bows, stacking bundles of arrows beside them, their fletching neatly aligned.
Next came the Class B katanas, each one slid onto another rack with a satisfying clink. Behind the register, I arranged rows of potions—health, mana, stamina—their colorful liquids shimmering in glass vials.
Rings, necklaces, and bracelets went into the glass display case up front, catching the light like tiny stars.
For the big finish, I hung my Class S weapons behind the counter—holy swords, demonic blades, and a few experimental hybrids I'd cooked up. These were the heavy hitters, and I wanted them close so I'd handle them myself. When I stepped back, the shop looked badass… but nowhere near full. The walls still had too many empty hooks. It's a start, I thought, brushing my hands off.
The door chimed, snapping me out of my thoughts. A guy walked in, his presence filling the room—tall, sharp-eyed, with an air of quiet power.
"Hey," I said, flashing a grin. "How can I help you?"
I muttered "Observe" under my breath, and his stats flickered into view:
[Observe:
Name: Arthur Pendragon
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Title: Holy Sword Wielder
Fame: King Arthur's Grandson
Sacred Gear: None
Level: 220
Strength: 200
Endurance: 210
Agility: 220
Intelligence: 220
Wisdom: 220
Luck: 80]
My eyebrows shot up. This guy's no joke.
He studied me for a second before speaking, his voice calm but commanding. "Are you Shiro? The so-called holy sword maker?"
"Last time I checked," I said, leaning against the counter with a smirk.
"I'm Arthur Pendragon," he said, his eyes locking onto mine. "I'd like to see your holy sword—and your demonic sword, if you don't mind."
"Sure thing," I replied. I reached into my inventory, pulling out the two blades. The holy sword glowed with a soft, radiant light, while the demonic one pulsed with a dark, jagged edge. I set them on the counter, letting him take it in.
His eyes widened, a rare crack in his cool demeanor. "It's true," he muttered, almost to himself. "You really can forge holy and demonic swords."
"Well, yeah," I said, shrugging like it was no big deal—though inside, I was grinning like an idiot.
"How?" he pressed, leaning closer. "How did you manage it?"
I tapped my chin, choosing my words. "It's tricky. To make these, you need pure and corrupted souls—angel and devil vibes. But I'm not dumb enough to go killing either side; I'd be toast. So I figured out how to craft synthetic ones—fakes that pack the same punch."
Arthur nodded slowly, processing it. "Impressive."
I slid the swords back into my inventory, their weight vanishing. "Happy with the demo?"
"I'll be back in a few days," he said, giving me a curt nod before turning to leave.
"See ya," I called after him. The door swung shut, and I turned to rearrange some potions behind the counter, tweaking their placement for max effect. Barely a minute passed before the chime rang again. I glanced up to see two girls step inside—one with chestnut hair, the other with blue hair streaked with green, both radiating confidence.
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Hey guys if u like the fanfic and want to read ahead by 15+ Chapters or just want to support take a visit on my patreon.
(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
http://patreon.com/Marin_kitawaga