Chapter 77: The Day After

Chapter 77: The Day AfterInigo returned to Amber’s Hearth after walking Lyra home, his steps light and his thoughts all over the place. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a soft silver glow across the cobblestone streets. His heart was still racing—not from battle, not from fear—but from something far more terrifying: romance. He had sung. Actually sung. In public. And it worked. His lips curled into a grin the moment he stepped into his room. The door shut behind him with a soft thud, muffling the sounds of the city. He collapsed onto the bed and stared at the wooden ceiling, one arm behind his head. God, I actually sang Somebody to You in front of people who don’t even know what pop music is. He cringed. A little. But at the same time, the memory of Lyra’s expression—the softness in her eyes, the kiss she gave him—wiped away any lingering embarrassment. "That’s a win," he murmured to himself. "That’s a damn win." And not just in love. His balance now sat at a whopping 170,235 tokens. The Minotaur dungeon had paid out well, especially after bonuses. He didn’t quite understand the algorithm behind the "Freedom Actions" and "Shock and Awe" multipliers, but apparently the system loved theatrics. Sing a song in public? Get paid. Saving the girls in the dungeon and being cool while at it? Double it. Inigo chuckled and folded his arms behind his head. Still, the money didn’t answer the deeper itch. The nagging question of "what now?" He had a business that would likely explode once the city’s elites got a taste of his burgers. He had companions—real ones—and probably a girlfriend now, pending confirmation. But the thrill of the dungeon was different. That danger, that high-stakes edge-of-death adrenaline, couldn’t be bottled. And part of him didn’t want to let it go. Maybe... maybe he could do both. Be a businessman and an adventurer. Build an empire and travel the world. "Greedy bastard," he muttered, smiling. Eventually, exhaustion caught up with him. He stripped down to his tunic and slipped under the covers. Wheeler, in its powered-down mode, sat quietly in the corner like a loyal dog. Inigo’s eyes fluttered shut. His last thought before sleep took him was of Lyra’s kiss and the faint taste of red wine. The sun rose quickly over Eldrath. The marketplace district came alive with the clang of metal shutters, the bark of vendors hawking fresh bread and fruits, and the endless chatter of early shoppers. Inigo stood in front of the shop,McRonald, and entered. "Alright," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Let’s make history." The first few customers were curious townsfolk—mostly teens and early risers. A few were nobles’ servants, sent to spy or sample. Then came the crowd. Word had already spread thanks to last week’s "soft opening." Adventurers, merchants, students from the academy, and even a few city guards formed a long but orderly line outside the storefront. Orders flew in: S~eaʀᴄh the NôᴠelFirё.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Two burgers and fries!" "Make that one of those ice drinks too—what do you call it?" "Orange." "Yeah, that. Tastes like lightning in a cup!" Inigo moved like a machine. He grilled, salted, and served with speed. Then, just past noon, two familiar faces arrived. Serina and Elira. Serina wore a casual temple robe, sleeves rolled up and hair in a bun. She waved as she entered. "I said I’d be here!" Elira, on the other hand, looked like she stepped out of a royal painting—silk blouse, silver brooch, and lace gloves. "Gods, what is that smell?" she said, wrinkling her nose. "It smells... greasy." "You’re not in the palace anymore," Serina said with a smirk. "That’s the smell of joy." Inigo approached from behind the counter, still wiping his hands on a towel. "Ladies," he greeted with a grin. "Welcome to McRonald." Elira blinked at him. "You’re really wearing an apron." "Damn right I am." She stepped forward and peered at the menu etched magically on the enchanted display board. "What on earth is a... Quarter Pound Beef Patty Double Stack with Cheddar and McSauce?" "A miracle between two buns," Serina replied, already placing her order. "One of those for me, please. And fries." Elira hesitated. Inigo leaned on the counter, arms folded. "You trust me?" "Rarely," Elira replied, then paused. "But I suppose you’ve earned a little trust after saving my life in a collapsing dungeon. Fine. I’ll try... the classic burger." "No regrets," Inigo said, nodding to the cook behind him. Within minutes, the food was delivered on polished wooden trays—buns golden and soft, patties thick and juicy, and the fries seasoned with a special herb-salt blend Inigo had fine-tuned after days of experimentation. Elira picked up the burger with two fingers, like it was some exotic foreign object. She sniffed it. Serina had already taken a bite. "Mmmh! Every time!" Serina said, chewing happily. "Your ancestors knew what they were doing!" Elira raised an eyebrow, then cautiously bit into her own. The flavor hit her tongue like thunder. The smoky sear of the beef. The tang of sauce. The crunch of lettuce and onion. Her eyes widened. She slowly chewed, swallowed, and then blinked at Inigo. "Is... this what your world eats regularly?" "More or less." She looked back at the burger. "Gods help us," she whispered. "You’re going to start a revolution." Serina laughed out loud. "Told you!" Inigo shrugged modestly. "Just a humble restaurateur bringing culinary enlightenment." They ate at a reserved table near the window, and more familiar faces started filtering in—students from the Academy, a few bronze-ranked adventurers, and even the local town guard captain, who ordered four burgers and asked if McRonald did delivery. By late afternoon, the line outside hadn’t shrunk. Inigo was beginning to run low on bread and condiments, but he’d expected it. No chicken on the menu yet—that would come later once supply chains were more stable. Elira stood and brushed off her gloves. "I’ll be sponsoring your expansion," she said. "Consider it an investment." Inigo blinked. "You’re serious?" "I’ll draw up the papers by tomorrow," she said. "This place will need a second location by the end of the month." Serina grinned. "And I’ll pray for your fryers not to catch fire." "Thanks, I guess?" "Anyways, where’s Lyra?" "I think she’s coming up late," Inigo replied, glancing toward the front door. "She said she had something to take care of first." As if on cue, the bells above the door jingled. Lyra stepped in, tugging her gloves off with her teeth, wind-blown and slightly flushed from running. She wore a light leather jacket over a dark red undershirt, her hair tied loosely back. A small pack was slung over one shoulder. "Told you I’d make it," she said, catching her breath as she marched straight behind the counter without hesitation. "You’re late," Inigo teased. "You’re welcome for showing up at all." She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek—earning a blsuhed from Serina and a smug smile from Elira, who was halfway through her fries. "I see someone’s upgraded from party member to business partner," Elira said. "Lyra, Inigo, are you two dating?" "Yes," Lyra said, tossing her pack down in the kitchen corner. "Well, given that the two of you spent a lot of time together, I’d say that’s natural?" Elira remarked. "Exactly," Lyra said with a smug. Inigo handed her the black apron he’d kept folded on a nearby shelf. "Okay, I think we started just yesterday so let’s not get ahead of ourselves yet. Lyra, I need you in the kitchen." She slipped it on with practiced ease, tying the strings behind her back. "Alright, I’m ready." He grinned. "Grill station’s yours. I’ll handle the assembly, plating, and taking orders from customers." A moment later, the kitchen sizzled to life again with the rhythmic sound of meat hitting metal. The smell of fresh patties filled the air. Inigo glanced sideways and saw her already in the zone, brow furrowed, flipping with precision. "Getting good huh?" he commented. Inigo laughed. Despite the crowd, things moved smoothly. With Lyra beside him, the flow of the kitchen felt natural—like gears clicking into place. They worked in tandem, moving around each other with ease, stealing glances, exchanging jokes over the roar of the grill and the chatter outside. At one point, Lyra leaned in during a lull and whispered, "You know this isn’t bad for a next date." He raised a brow. "Sweating in a hot kitchen while flipping meat for half the city is your idea of a date?" She smirked. "You sang last night. Everything after that’s just extra." He grinned. "Point taken." The sun began to dip again, casting golden rays through the front windows. More and more customers filtered in, and some even left tips—mostly silver coins, but a few enchanted trinkets and curious tokens too. By the time the rush started dying down, the shop was nearly sold out of fries, and they were down to the last few buns. Still, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement and satisfaction. And at the heart of it all were Inigo and Lyra—shoulder to shoulder, grease-stained, tired, but grinning like idiots. This, Inigo thought, glancing at her as she playfully tossed him a finished patty, was a kind of happiness he never knew he could find. And for now, that was enough.