Suren had no intention of being some saintly do-gooder, nor did he expect anyone's gratitude.
He left the bakery, but after only a few steps, the tomboy from earlier came running after him with the bread in her arms.
"Sir, please wait."
Hearing someone call out behind him, Suren stopped.
Perhaps everyone who mixed with the gangsters possessed an aggressive, intimidating air. When the tomboy saw Suren turn around expressionlessly, she instinctively took half a step back.
She said, "Sir, thank you for your generosity. We really do need this food."
"Mm."
Suren glanced at her and nodded, accepting the verbal thanks.
He could naturally tell that this pale, emaciated tomboy needed food. No, more precisely, everyone in the slums needed food.
Suren had not intended to stay any longer, but at that moment, the tomboy spoke up. Her words came out somewhat incoherently in her panic. "Um, sir, we weren't deliberately following you. We just saw you renting that house earlier..."
Suren frowned.
The tomboy seemed startled as well and hurriedly explained, "You were tricked by Grandet! He definitely didn't tell you that people had died in that building. It's a haunted house that no one can rent. Two months ago, a blind man went inside and never came out. There were others in the first half of the year too..."
As she spoke, she darted away like a frightened rabbit before Suren could ask anything.
So she came after me just to tell me this?
One loaf of bread had bought him a piece of information.
Suren wore a thoughtful expression.
Someone had died in the house. That did not surprise him much. If ordinary people lived in such a highly mutated environment, something was bound to happen.
Otherwise, the rent would not have been so cheap.
But