"Say, junior."
"Shut it."
Fang Ran: "."
After spending the whole day eating, drinking, and having fun amid the colorful bustle of Oxford Street, the exhaustion and pressure from five days of drifting seemed to dissolve into the rising steam as he soaked in the bath, his hair tips wet.
Feeling once more how wonderful it was to have money, Fang Ran had nearly become hopelessly addicted to it. Then, just as he happily welcomed the best part of the day—working time—
he received an incredibly cold response from his junior.
(￣_￣;) I haven't even said anything yet.
Still in East London, at the checkout counter of that supermarket in downtown Stratford, the slender ponytailed girl was preparing to start work.
The moment she heard the opening to that demonic series again, she interrupted him before he could even think.
"Anyway, Senior, you're definitely about to start with some hellishly difficult introduction and ask me some bizarre, ridiculous question."
I don't want to hear it at all.
"Don't worry, that series has officially ended."
Having found a permanent solution to his money problem last night thanks to a sudden inspiration, and having proven that most problems in this world really could be solved with money, his wandering life had basically entered a stable phase.
"I'm just a little curious. Though I guess it's a bit late to ask now."
Fang Ran fell silent at his junior's eye-rolling complaint behind him, but his hands kept moving as he spoke.
"But."
Then he looked at the thing not far in front of him with a complicated expression.
A self-checkout machine.
Every night, there was always a fixed-length queue at the manned registers. Fang Ran deeply suspected the purpose of this thing's existence.
"Ha~ Well, this is the fruit and vegetable section, where