The old man had retreated, his hands shaking from nervousness. Zeno tilted his head, observing the intruder. Aside from his clown mask, he was dressed in casual clothing. Zeno then noticed something glinting from the man's chest pocket—a small, shiny pocket knife that made Zeno's eyes narrow.
"Are you deaf?" he exclaimed. "I said, give me the money."
"Y—young man," the owner stammered. "Please calm down."
It was obvious that he was fearful. Zeno, on the other hand, felt not even a sliver of nerves.
"This is a coin laundry shop," Zeno began. "Unless you want to stand there and wait for the owner to retrieve the coins from each machine, then please stay. Oh, and I doubt you can run fast from the cops with the coins clinking in your pockets."
"Or do you want to steal one of my pillow covers to carry them effortlessly?" he asked teasingly.
