Relying on Acting Skills to Make a Living

Kingdom, Prince, Count.

Amid a dizzying heap of hollow, flashy rhetoric, the money-grubbing Nami only saw two bold, glaring words:

Pay up.

She had to pay.

She, an orphan from a remote fishing village squeezed dry by corrupt landlords and local bullies, had to pay for a hereditary aristocrat living off the rotting feudal system.

"You want me to pay?"

Nami's face shifted instantly. "Don't you have any money on you?"

"No, not a single coin."

Garen's answer was brutally honest.

"Then why the hell did you come to a restaurant like this?"

Stripped of her acting skills, Nami slammed the table in irritation. "Do you even know how expensive the food is here?"

"I hesitated at first, but then the waiters took the initiative to invite me in."

Garen said it with a straight face. "Besides, when you're hungry, you eat. A man can't let money choke him to death."

He looked at Nami's darkening pretty face, then added hopefully, "Good thing I ran into you. You'll help me out, right?"

Nami was speechless.

This guy in front of her had somehow flipped from a slightly awkward social rookie into a shameless, thick-skinned leech.

Do I even know you that well?

Nami's forehead bulged with veins from anger. She'd thought this Iron Can was some naive noble dripping with cash, but he turned out to be a seasoned freeloader brazen enough to dine and dash.

So there was no point in continuing her plan to swindle more money out of him.

She couldn't exactly pin her hopes on the Kingdom of Demacia, wherever the hell that was behind him, could she?

But a thief never leaves empty-handed.

Nami's gaze silently zeroed in on the only asset she could still get her hands on—

That ornate greatsword Garen had casually laid across the table.

Sell that sword, and she'd hit her little goal of a hundred million too.

"So, you want me to cover this meal for you?"

Nami's voice suddenly turned dangerous.

Trying to squeeze money out of her, Cat Burglar Nami? Not a chance.

"Yeah!"

Garen nodded, utterly guileless.

Truth was, he had no other option. If Nami wouldn't throw him a lifeline, he'd just have to pop his Q Skill and bolt when the bill came.

"No problem!"

Nami shot to her feet, making up for the height gap between them.

She looked down at Garen and smiled. "I've got an idea to solve your meal problem."

"You'd better cooperate nicely."

"What do you mean?"

Garen was clueless.

But Nami, without another word, grabbed the gorgeous greatsword lying across the table with both hands.

The sword was heavy—a bit of a strain at first.

But Nami was no delicate noble lady; this weight was nothing to her.

In just a few seconds, she'd gotten used to the heft of the two-handed blade. The Sapphire on the hilt sparkled brilliantly, filling her with boundless strength out of nowhere.

"What are you doing?"

Garen asked, dumbfounded.

Nami didn't answer. She just gripped the Greatsword, and then—

Unleashed an Oscar-worthy performance.

Her clear orange eyes instantly brimmed with crystalline tears, the corners of her mouth twisting into a pitiful, aggrieved arc, while between her brows swirled a complex storm of anger and disappointment.

Then, a single sword stroke fell.

A thunderous crash rang out as Nami shattered the entire table with her greatsword.

The whole restaurant was jolted into motion; duty manager, waitstaff, and diners alike—men and women—all turned their gazes in unison.

"What are you doing?"

Garen stood frozen in shock.

"You, you!"

The tears in Nami's eyes had already burst into an uncontainable flood: "You have the nerve to ask me what I'm doing?"

"What exactly is your relationship with Mary next door?"

"What?"

Garen was completely baffled.

What kind of trashy eight o'clock soap opera melodrama was this?

But such cheesy drama was exactly what drew people in, especially when it played out in real life.

Everyone in the restaurant eagerly awaited the next move from this pair of bitter lovers.

"How, how could you do this?!"

"She's my best friend!"

Nami continued her role as the emotionally unhinged wife, the greatsword clutched in her hand swinging wildly through the air.

Boyfriend hooking up with best friend, the wife confronting the betrayal?

And the female lead was a delicate, lovely young beauty, while the male lead was a noble knight of no low standing.

This kind of plot was captivating in real life, appealing to both high and low tastes.

The onlookers' eyes gleamed with excitement; wealthy merchants and wage-earning waiters alike were utterly absorbed in the spectacle.

The drama grew ever more clichéd, but Garen, as the male lead, was completely out of sync:

"Calm down, calm down!"

Garen forced himself to speak: "Put the sword down first!"

"Put the sword down?"

Nami's tears surged even more fiercely, her voice choking up:

"You treat this greatsword better than you treat me!"

"Hahaha"

Nami suddenly let out a slightly unhinged laugh, her tear-streaked smile stirring a pang of pity in every man present.

Then, without a word, she fixed her gaze on Garen's stunned face. Anger, disappointment, and pain fermented in silence, perfectly rendered across her features with masterful micro-expressions.

Just as every spectator felt the tension peak, Nami abruptly turned around.

One hand wiped the crystalline tears from her cheeks, the other tightly gripped Garen's greatsword, and she fled sobbing out of the restaurant.

Nami ran fast, almost kicking up a whirlwind in the hallway.

But no one made a move to stop her.

Because everyone was still lost in that simple, classic plot.

"What the hell?"

Garen remained dumbfounded, not yet catching on.

A kindly old man in a suit and tie, with silver-white hair, walked slowly up to Garen, a wistful smile on his face. He gave Garen's shoulder pauldron a firm pat and said with deep meaning:

"Young man, go chase after the girl you love!"

"If you don't go now, you might regret it for the rest of your life."

With that, the old man let out a sigh tinged with melancholy, clearly a man with a story.

But Garen's eyes lit up as he understood Nami's over-the-top performance:

Right!

What a clever idea!

While everyone was still caught up in the act, he could chase after Nami and run out of the restaurant together—and that free meal would be theirs for the taking!

So Garen's face instantly hardened into a look of grief and regret.

He had no experience with a girlfriend running off, so he had to rely on memories of the day his beloved dog went missing to get into character.

"Thank you!"

"This was my fault. I'm going after her now!"

Garen bowed deeply to the old man, then set off in the direction Nami had fled.

His steps were swift, as if fleeing for his life.

Garen made it smoothly out of the restaurant's main entrance, running while shouting Nami's name with deep, heartfelt emotion.

Again, no one stopped him.

Even the shift manager was so immersed in the spectacle that he didn't notice a thing.

That bastard hadn't paid at all!

And even after escaping the restaurant, Garen didn't slow his pace. At the street corner near the entrance, he caught a fleeting glimpse of Nami's retreating figure.

To thoroughly dodge the bill, he kept up his act as the lovesick, guilty boyfriend, chasing after Nami's silhouette with wind beneath his feet.

Only after crossing several unfamiliar blocks and bursting into a bustling, noisy market did Garen finally feel safe enough to stop.

Those restaurant staff probably couldn't catch up now.

But Nami's trace had vanished.

Naturally.

As the Cat Burglar who had sailed the seas for years, Nami knew these islands' routes well—otherwise, she couldn't have escaped the bloodthirsty pirates time and again. Familiar with the terrain, agile, and deliberately hiding, there was no way Garen could catch her.

Yet Garen still hadn't caught on.

He just looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings and laughed with some relief:

"Haha."

"Never thought I'd live off my acting skills one day!"

Laughing, Garen subconsciously made a motion to lift a sword.

His hands were empty.

Garen snapped awake:

"Where's my Greatsword?"