Chapter 92: The Kitten Gets Kicked Out Of Bed Again
The last two ones could even upgrade the music box into a holographic projection device, and their prices were 100 and 200 gold coins, respectively. Mag lifted an eyebrow. “System, can I swear? I’d sooner buy a new one.”
“You don’t want to do that. If you insult me, you may trigger hidden missions,” the system said seriously.
“Fine. You son of a gun.” Mag nodded. He was a little tempted to choose the fourth one—a holographic projection device and the doll would be able to perform many dances. But the price made him hesitate. “I choose the first one,” he said at last.
Money was of paramount importance right now. Amy was still very interested in the music box, and she hadn’t learned the first song, so it wasn’t necessary to upgrade it to a holographic projection device.“10 gold coins has been deducted. Alteration is in progress, and will be finished in five minutes. The battery will be fully charged after the alteration,” said the system.
Mag took a look at the counter. The music box had disappeared. I don’t need to wait here, since the system will charge it for me. He grabbed the cat, slowly picked Amy up, and walked up the stairs softly.
Amy was sleeping soundly. Mag didn’t want to wake her up. He put the two little things on the bed, and then went downstairs to turn off the light.
After he washed up, Mag walked over to the crib. Amy’s sleeping face put a smile on his lips.
He had never thought that he would get such a cute little girl. This transportation had been meant to be a punishment, but he found it so rewarding now. He had many beautiful expectations and dreams of the future.The restaurant is a start. I’ll blend into Chaos City, and then this multi-species world.
Mag woke up early in the morning. He kicked off his busy day with preparing ingredients. It was only when he became an owner of a restaurant that he realized how early the restaurants providing breakfast had to prepare in advance, and he didn’t even have to buy fresh ingredients himself.
Today’s business was even better than yesterday. The fact that his roujiamo could help lose weight was really catching on, so many fat customers came today.The most eye-catching ones were eight rich ladies. They came together, and their bodies were even more marvelous than those of Harrison and his friends. Mag worried about his chairs when they took their seats. Luckily, the chairs, which were 10 gold coins each, withstood their test.
It was quite a view when they ate their roujiamos. The nearby customers gaped at them, mouths open. It was too “good” a scene for Mag to look at.
“Mag, the screen says that the number of days before your rest day is one. Do you not open tomorrow?” a customer asked as he took a roujiamo from Mag’s hand.
“No, we don’t. We have a rest day every week. We’ve opened for six days, so tomorrow is our rest day,” Mag answered, smiling. He had lost count of how many times he had answered that question.
“I see. I guess I can’t take my wife and children here tomorrow,” he said disappointedly. Then he thought for a moment, and added, “Your business is so good, and even one day means a lot of money. Some customers might not come again if they came here only to find you were closed. Other restaurants open all year long. Can you adjust?”
“He’s right. Mag, your food has made me unable to eat anything else. I would be starved to death tomorrow.”
“Mag, we come here every day. Don’t do this to us.”
Other customers echoed his sentiment. They had grown too addicted to Mag’s food to let him rest one day. They were persuading and even threatening him.
Mag shook his head. “You won’t die of hunger in one day. It’s our rule to have a rest day every week. We only have one cook here—me, and I need time to attend to other business, so we can’t open all year long.” He rejected them directly.
The customers traded unhappy glances. Mag was pretty adamant, unlike other restaurateurs who always worried about losing regulars when taking a rest day. They would stay in their restaurant all day long if they could. They were not as self-willed as Mag.
They knew very well that Mag had been strictly sticking to his opening hours. They knew that he wouldn’t open a minute earlier even if dozens were waiting outside, and that he wouldn’t cook another plate after nine even if many were still hungry. So, they were just clutching at straws.
After the last customer walked out, Mag closed the door and sighed with relief. Finally, he could rest tomorrow.
He could understand their wanting to eat delicious food every day, but Amy always came first. He could care less about their unhappiness. They should be grateful that I only rest one day every week, he thought.
Today, he and Amy profited almost the same amount as yesterday. It was the best they could do. Now he only needed to sell another 300 roujiamos to complete his roujiamo mission. He could do it in one day after the rest.
Amy didn’t notice the difference in the music box. Now she was able to sing the whole song if she sang along with the elf. She was indeed very talented when it came to music.
…
The next morning, Amy woke up early. She climbed down her crib and got on Mag’s bed. “Father, we’re going to the school to see Teacher Luna today, right?” she asked, excited.
Mag, who didn’t have to be woken up by the alarm clock today, opened his sleepy eyes and met Amy’s big, clear eyes. She had pulled the curtain open a bit. He glanced at the clock—it was already 8 am. He hadn’t slept so well for days.
Mag nodded, smiling. “Yes, we don’t have to work today. We’ll go out after breakfast.” He sat up, picked Amy up, and tickled her. She giggled.
Amy also waved her short arms to try to tickle her father. Their laughter resounded through the house.
“Meow, meow…” The kitten jumped around on the floor. It even tried to rear up on its hind legs to see what was going on, but its short legs were not helping. It cried out unhappily. It had been kicked out of bed again.
Mag held Amy in his arms and stood up. “Rise and shine. Time to go. What do you want to wear? How do want me to comb your hair?” he asked, smiling.
