Arriving at his apartment building, Noah immediately ducked behind a car as he watched three men leaving, with their hands in their pockets. The tallest one—a bald guy with a neck tattoo Noah recognized as "Rex"—slammed his fist against the building's brick wall.
"Waste of time. Carter's not home," Rex growled, flexing his knuckles.
"Maybe he's hiding inside," suggested the shorter one with a leather jacket. "Should've kicked the door down."
"And have the neighbors call the cops? Use your brain, Mick." The third man—well-dressed with a trimmed beard—checked his gold watch. "We'll catch him eventually. Interest keeps ticking up either way."
Mick spat on the sidewalk. "Boss ain't gonna be happy. Third time we've missed him."
"Boss should've let me break his fingers last time," Rex said, cracking his knuckles. "Teach him what happens when you miss payments."
"He's got till Friday," Gold Watch reminded them. "After that, we don't just collect money."
Noah pressed himself against the car, heart hammering. The $500 payment he'd made earlier was civil because it was another loan shark, a legal one.
Meanwhile, these ones weren't.. And "till Friday" meant he had less than 24 hours before things got ugly.
The three men piled into a black sedan parked across the street.
When they were gone, he sprinted to his apartment, barely breathing until he was safely inside with the door locked and chained.
"System," he gasped, leaning against the door. "I need to make money faster. A lot faster."
[Current Daily Revenue: $300. Additional revenue sources can be unlocked through shop expansions or simply selling the products.]
"I already know that. I meant like…you…know.."
[Host, what do you want?]
Noah sighed.
"You know..like…a loan?"
[...]
[Host…you want me to loan you money, to escape from loansharks ?]
Noah nodded his head vigorously without any shame.
"Yes."
[No.]
"WHY!"
[Stop being lazy and go sell some bread.]
"Tsk, it was worth a try."
…
Back in his shop, Noah paced frantically, running his hands through his hair.
The clock was ticking.
"Twenty-four hours," he muttered, calculating furiously. "That's all I've got before those guys come back to break more than just my door."
He snapped his fingers as the math clicked into place.
"One loaf every two hours... I already have two ready, which means by tomorrow—" His eyes lit up. "Fourteen loaves total. If I sell just half of them, that's $2,100!"
Noah slapped the counter, a wild grin spreading across his face.
"Add my daily $300 income... $2,400 total. Not enough to clear the whole debt, but enough to keep those goons off my back for now."
"Seven loaves. That's all I need to sell." He nodded firmly, as if convincing himself. "Seven magical healing bread loaves, and I might just keep my kneecaps."
The simplicity of the plan was almost laughable.
A few hours crawled by with no sign of Valeria. Noah checked his non-existent watch for the fifth time.
"Where is this guild master? Did she get eaten by a dragon or something?" He drummed his fingers on the counter.
[Host. You are allowed to go look for customers. You don't need to wait for a customer to enter.]
Noah's eyes darted to the door. The mysterious outside world beckoned, full of potential customers... and who knew what else.
"Go outside? Me?" He clutched his chest dramatically. "Into a world potentially filled with demons, dragons, and god knows what."
[...]
"That silence speaks volumes, System." Noah folded his arms. "What if I step outside and a demon appears right in front of me? Who's paying for my emotional therapy then? Not you, that's for sure."
The System remained silent.
"Hah! Speechless because I'm right!"
[Host... I didn't respond, not because you convinced me. I'm just... stunned at your unprecedented levels of shamelessness.]
"Excuse me?" Noah placed his hands on his hips. "You are meant to say 'Host, you are wise' "
Even though he complained, Noah still opened the door and peeked through.
Squinting at the medieval street scene. A chicken ran by, chased by what looked like a very small goblin with a fork.
Noah slowly backed away from the door.
"Yeah, I think I'll wait for Valeria. Customer service is about quality, not quantity."
[Coward.]
"Strategic business planning!"
[Chicken.]
"That's poultry slander and I won't stand for it!"