"Same rules as always: no more than three per person."
After calling out the usual greeting, Feeney opened for business. Skye was too busy to ask about what had happened at school earlier. Feeney handled the cooking, while she took care of collecting the money and passing him ingredients.
The Upper East Side of Manhattan could be called home to New York's wealthiest residents. Stark Tower, which Feeney had seen earlier, was in this neighborhood too.
So even though he was selling Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll for the outrageous price of ten dollars apiece, no one buying them even batted an eye. In fact, plenty of people wanted to buy more.
"Hey, Feeney, we've known each other for ages. How about giving me two extra?"
A man in his thirties, dressed in a sharp suit, watched Feeney skillfully prepare the fried chicken rolls and tried to cozy up to him with a beaming smile.
"Mr. Wright, you're a big shot, so you understand the importance of keeping your word better than anyone."
Feeney gave an exasperated shrug, then continued, "Besides, look at how much food we have. If I make an exception for you, everyone after you will ask for one too. Then a lot of people won't get any. If they get angry and trash my Small Shop, you won't be able to eat here again."
"Fine, fine. Three it is."
Feeling the angry stares of the people lined up behind him, Mr. Wright gave an awkward smile, paid quickly, and stepped aside. He found a place to sit and took a bite of the fragrant fried chicken roll. His face filled with bliss. Anyone who didn't know better might have wondered if Feeney was selling something other than fried chicken rolls.
Feeney didn't send off the last of his customers until it was completely dark.
After rehanging the "Open at Irregular Hours" sign on the door, Feeney went back inside and started cleaning up. He saw Skye happily counting money and couldn't help reminding her with a laugh, "Don't get too excited. You only get a tenth of this."
The smile froze on Skye's face. When she turned to him, she looked pitifully aggrieved. She even wiped away nonexistent tears and whined, "I'm your big sister. I worked so hard for you, and you're only going to give me a tenth!?"
"How about a twentieth, then?"
Feeney played dumb.
"Hmph!"
Skye's expression instantly returned to normal. She glared at Feeney, then went right back to happily counting the money.
Feeney was always saying he'd give her only a tenth, but whenever she needed money, he never hesitated to give it to her. So this money was practically all hers anyway.
Feeney just smiled at that. After cleaning up the trash and changing his clothes, he went over to Skye, ready to tease her some more.
Just then, two people suddenly walked into the shop. Feeney had just turned around to tell them they were closed when his eyes narrowed and his heart gave a sudden, hard lurch.
"Don't move. Hand over the money."
Skye stared blankly at the scene. In all her years, this was the first time someone had pointed a gun at her from such close range. Panic welled up inside her, and she hurriedly looked at Feeney. He gave her a reassuring look.
Feeney hadn't expected this to happen. This was the Upper East Side, a place full of wealthy people and business elites, with a tangled web of gang factions. Street punks generally knew the rules and wouldn't come here to cause trouble.
And skilled assassins wouldn't bother with a little shop like his. Besides, it wasn't in a great location, his hours were irregular, and he wasn't competing with anyone.
In the two years since he'd opened, this was the first time someone had come to rob the place—or, more accurately, cause trouble.
Feeney raised his hands and made no sudden moves. While edging discreetly to the side, he said to the two masked robbers, "The money's all here. Please don't hurt us."
"You, put the money in a bag," one robber snarled at Skye. Then he pointed his gun at Feeney and barked, "You stay right there. Don't try anything."
At Feeney's nod and reassuring look, Skye's hands trembled slightly as she found a backpack and began stuffing the money inside.
"Move it!" the other robber impatiently urged her.
Feeney frowned as he studied them. If he were alone, he could probably handle both of them with his abilities. But Skye was with him, and he didn't want to take that risk.
Feeney could tell the two were probably just street punks. They might not even belong to a gang; otherwise, they wouldn't be trying to rob a place here. That would be breaking the rules.
Feeney didn't care much about losing a day's takings, and he wasn't completely sure he could disarm them with a gun pointed at him.
But things rarely went as planned.
The other robber, who'd been keeping watch at the door, seemed to have a screw loose. He glanced back at Skye and made a lewd comment. "Hey, boss, that girl's gorgeous!"
Skye's face went pale with fear, making Feeney furrow his brow even deeper.
"Shut up. Go get the money so we can leave!"
The robber pointing his gun at Feeney clearly didn't want any trouble. He scolded his partner harshly and ordered him to get ready to leave.
"Heh heh, sure!"
The man let out a strange laugh and headed toward Skye, clearly up to no good.
Feeney drew a deep breath, his gaze sharpening. If the two of them had just taken some money and left, that would've been the end of it. But they'd chosen to ask for trouble. He didn't want to expose himself, but he couldn't let his family get hurt.
In eight years, he'd improved at more than just making fried chicken rolls.
"Now, look behind you."
As the man was about to pass Yiran, the Golden Great Deduction Technique activated. The force took hold of both robbers and made them turn their heads.
He moved like the wind.
The instant they turned, Feeney charged straight at the robber holding the gun.
Using some martial arts he'd learned online, he snatched the gun from the robber's hand and knocked him to the ground.
But before he could breathe a sigh of relief, he glanced at the other robber and saw his hand unconsciously reaching inside his jacket.
"He's got a gun too!"
The thought flashed through Feeney's mind, followed by another.
"I can't let him draw it."
The two of them were about three meters apart. The robber beside Feeney was on the ground, but Feeney hadn't fully subdued him yet. If he used the Golden Great Deduction Technique to stop the other robber from reaching for his gun, the man might resist with all his Willpower. It could fail.
If Feeney fired first, the close range made it very likely he'd hit, even though this would be his first time shooting.
In a split second, Feeney made up his mind. To be safe, as he fired, he instinctively used the skill he knew best.
Three steaming hot Sumire's Fried Chicken Rolls appeared and smacked the robber who was reaching for his gun right in the face.
In his panic, Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll had broken through too. He could now summon three at once. What a cause for celebration.
"Bang!"
The gun went off. To Feeney's surprise, he still missed from such close range. He'd aimed at the robber's thigh, but the bullet went right past his pants.
Fortunately, the gunshot startled the robber in front of him. After the fried chicken rolls fell to the ground, he didn't dare keep reaching for his gun.
"Don't move. If you so much as twitch, I'll shoot."
Feeney immediately warned him. The robber seemed shaken by the gunshot and obediently stood perfectly still.
Then Feeney hurriedly checked on the robber who'd fallen to the ground. He kicked him in the stomach to keep him from getting back up, then shouted to Skye:
"Skye, call the police!"
Everything had happened so fast. In the blink of an eye, both robbers had been subdued. Skye stared at the scene, stunned, unable to process what had happened.
Feeney's shout finally snapped her out of it. She took out her phone and prepared to call the police.
"Boss, boss, we were wrong! Don't call the police!"
Hearing that Feeney was going to call the police, the robbers panicked and hurriedly begged for mercy. Feeney had been planning to ignore them, but he suddenly paused when he saw the fried chicken rolls on the floor.
"Skye, wait a moment."
Skye had already dialed the number and was about to call. She froze, but after seeing Feeney frown in thought, she obediently lowered her phone.
Seeing that Feeney had actually agreed to let them go, the two robbers were surprised. But they quickly put on looks of gratitude. "Thank you! Thank you!"
Feeney was now deeply regretting instinctively using Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll to smack the robber in the face. If the police came and wanted to check the shop's security footage, it would be a hassle.
As for killing them to silence them, that had never even crossed Feeney's mind. Turning them over to the police would be less trouble.
Hope some of you will show your support!
Before you continue