After the whole conflict that ensued, Ori stood behind her counter, cleaning off the dust that covered the surfaces. She had already taken off the covers that shielded the breafdsticks and cakes from dust, preserving it.
After she was done, she grabbed a metal plate, placing a big piece of cake carefully on it, grabbing a cup of lemon juice she had prepared earlier.
With a slight smirk on her face, she walked up to one of the tables that were present in the bakery, sat on one of the chairs was the hefty man she had ran into, his arms folded with a tensed up look in his eyes.
Ori placed the snacks on the table, sitting on the opposite side of where the man sat.
"Good, you are awake," she said, her tone cold, "Now, let us start, shall we?"
The hefty man groaned, his eyes on the cake, "What is this supposed to be? Some peace offering?" he asked, his brows crunched as he frowned, "Humiliating me wasn't enough for ya?"
Ori tilted her head as she heard the man speak, "What are you talking about?" she asked, her heavy eyes landing on the cake and back at him, "This isn't yours"
These words struck the hefty man, angering him even more but ge couldn't do anything, glancing down at his leg, his ankles were held by chains, hidden from the public or any customer who planned to step inside and buy something.
*This goddamn whore* the huge man said to himself through the deepest parts of his thoughts.
Using the fork next to her, Ori munched on a piece of the cake, melting and swallowing it with the lemon juice. The man was irritated by seeing this, he couldn't believe that some such as Ori could ever take him down.
Whatever she did wasn't life-threatening or painful but it was enough to put him down.
"So, what'd ya want from me?" he asked with a demanding tone.
Ori glanced up from whatever she was eating, her cold, blue eyes piercing into his soul like the phantom Never-Weres, the huge man was shaken by this.
"Very interesting question," said Ori before pointing the utensil at him, "I have been waiting a long time for that"
Dropping the fork next to her on the table, she faced him, "Tell me sir, what is your name?" she asked.
The hefty man squinted at the question but Ori's piercing gaze read him, drawing him closer and scaring him further, "Ughh," he exclaimed, "The name's Ralf… Ralf Hatter, what's it to ya?"
Ori's gaze turned from relaxed to astonished as she heard that name, though she wasn't fully shocked, her eyes were different but then her gaze dropped, returning back to it's original state, "Interesting.." she said, taking another piece of the cake infront of her, this time much bigger than the last one.
Ralf was taken aback by this, the young lady was quite unique, her expression bearing no emotions at all but he could read one thing about her and from his perspective—she was someone who lacked table manners.
*What a sloppy eater* he thought.
Ori swallowed her meal quickly, taking a chug of lemon juice which she loved as a child before facing Ralf who was clearly afraid of her, "Tell me Ralf, why me?" she asked.
"Huh? What are you blabbering about?" Ralf asked, still ignorant to what he did.
"I mean," said Ori, "I'm just a young woman leaving her best life and trying to get through life just like everybody else, why attack me for no reason?"
Ralf balled his fists as he heard this, "You don't remember," he said, angered by Ori's ignorant demeanor.
"Hm?" Ori exclaimed.
Ralf explained, his words heavy, as he spoke Ori began to remember. Months ago, a robbery happened, involving two thugs who were chased down by a Never-Slayer.
Though they were faster than the hero, Ori was faster and more agile, bringing them down. After that, they were thrown out by their family, disowned and left with nothing but their agile bodies to enable to them to escape from the authorities whenever they stole.
Ori listened to every word that escaped Ralf's hardnened lips, his tone still attaining it's coarse nature but with a little touch of softness to it.
"If you wish to turn me over to those nut-job Never-Slayers, be my guest, it's not like I got anythig to lose," the young man said, his arms folded more tightly this time, his expression hardened as he prepared for his fate.
Ori sighed as she stood from her chair, having already finished her cake, chugging down the last drop of lemon juice from the cup, before making her way towards Ralf. Crouching down, she brought out a key from her hair, using it to unlock the chains.
Ralf was shocked by this, 'Hey, what're ya doing?" he demanded, increasing the weight of his tone.
Ori glanced up at him as she tried to unlock the shackles, "Well, what do you think I'm doing?" she asked, irritated by his questions, "You could've kissed your arse goodbye if it wasn't for my kindness. Besides, your brothers need ya, can't break a happy family"
Ralf's eyes widenened as the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, those two men who referred to him as their 'boss' were his blood brothers. All this time he had felt like he was a superior structure, and now all it took was a young, little lady to tell him that.
The chains dropped with a clang as Ralf's leg was released from the binding shackles that held him, forcing him to listen to all of Ori's munching and slurping.
The young lady stood to her feet, stretching, "Go on now, you bloody bastard," she said, still keeping an emontionless facade as she tapped him on the back, "Just make sure you don't cause any trouble for anyone, find an occupation and try and be nice to the people"
Ori made her way back to the counter leaving Ralf totally lost for words, now left to ponder on his actions.
Now left bewildered, he stood up from the chair and walking away from the bakery, hoping to walk away from yhe sins he had committed. He hoped to change. He hoped to be nicer to people. He hoped that his brothers would look up to him with admiration.
"Hey, calm your horses mate," Ori muttered from behind.
Ralf turned to face the little woman, seeing her standing before him, a bag in her hand as she stretched it towards him, "Here, these are some cakes and breadsticks, share em' with your bothers," she said, her hand on her waist as she demanded rather than offered.
The 'Ex-Thug' hesitated, not sure he could take it but Ori's gaze which was once a void was now filled up with sincerity. Left with no choice, he took the bag from her hand, before slowly turning his back on him and walking away where his brothers awaited him, hoping to know what was happening.
"What a pain in the arse, really," Ori sighed heavily, "Just a little pep-talk and he is already like this"
As the storm between she and Ralf finally subsided, Ori hoped that there wouldn't be any obstacle in her path, preventing her from working properly. Besides, working and catering for herself was already a pain.
But she was wrong...
'Ori'
A voice whispered from behind, it's tone sounding feminine and ghostly causing the young woman to turn, "Huh?" she exclaimed, her heart skipping double beats that made it impossible for her to breath properly for a second or two.
Nobody—
Only a counter and metal shelves filled with baked foods and the quietness of the room with a door that led into the storage room.
*Seems my head is playing tricks on me* she thought, hoping that whatever she heard was just a psychological error that occured in her mind.
Hoping to forget whatever happened, she continued on with what she planned to do this cold morning, tending to the little customers that came in and trying her best not to heat up in her outfit.
——
Here's your rewritten passage with enhanced clarity, richer descriptions, and improved flow—while staying true to the original meaning and without shortening any words:
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Seconds, minutes, and hours had passed, and soon, the sun began to sink below the horizon, painting the sky in a pale, shimmering glow as the moon's gentle brightness took its place. Half of the city of Kharvald lay eerily empty, while the other half still clung to its lively, bustling energy.
Ori remained in the quieter part of the city, surrounded only by the chirping of crickets and the cold wind whistling through the cracks in the windows. The young woman stood behind the counter of her bakery, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the golden surface of the necklace around her neck. In her mind, she wandered into fantasies—dreams of the life she might have lived if her family were still alive, still happy.
Most nights like this, a deep, gnawing fear crept into her heart—the fear of the same illness that had stolen her family, the dread that it might one day come for her too. Such dark thoughts often left her in a silent, suffocating panic, ruining what little peace she had. But tonight… tonight felt different.
Even as she drifted in her daydreams, she couldn't shake the unsettling sensation that something lurked in the shadows, waiting for her, calling to her.
Frustrated by the storm of emotions in her mind, she decided to close the bakery for the night. She stepped away from the counter, securing every window before carefully covering the remaining baked goods.
As she stepped outside, the cold night air rushed into her lungs, sharp and bracing. She took a deep breath, savoring the crispness before exhaling slowly.
Just as she took her first step forward—eager to return home, to shed her work clothes, to wash away the stress of the day—her luck finally ran out.
"Unhand me, you filthy monster!"
A voice—feminine, desperate, trembling with fear—cut through the silence, snapping Ori to attention.
Her eyes darted around until they landed on the source: a man, clearly drunk from a late-night visit to the local tavern, trying to force himself upon a young woman barely half his size.
"Come on, don't be such a letdown," he slurred, his voice thick with intoxication. "We're alone… let's enjoy ourselves."
Ori's gaze sharpened, her eyes narrowing as she saw his filthy hands groping the young woman's chest. In an instant, the exhaustion that had weighed her down all day vanished, replaced by a surge of furious energy.
"Hey, you bloody bastard!" she roared, her voice slicing through the night.
The drunkard spun toward her just in time to see Ori charging at him with terrifying speed.
Panic flashed across his face, but even in his drunken stupor, he managed a sickening grin.
"If I can't run…" he sneered, "Then I might as well enjoy the sight of your delicate body."
With a brutal yank, he tore open the young woman's top.
A piercing scream ripped through the air as the victim squeezed her eyes shut, feeling his rough hands clawing at her undergarments.