Selling (Somewhat) Magic Goods in Arknights

[Paracsus]

Looking at her files should help out with characterizing her, but for the most part you can understand that she isn't against what Is happening and honestly? She is one of the better options when it comes to the underworld of Lungmen. Same with her father especially if you remember when Wei's own men against him and joined rat king in a taking care of the problem rather then mass genocide

Click to shrink...

I did read her files prior to writing this, and even looked back at some cutscenes involving her. Just still not overly familiar with her and the Rat King's personalities in general, hence not being so comfortable in writing them. Still, I have to try since it would be appropriate to have them in the story since they ARE some of the major faces in Lungmen.

I'm not trying to write them as antagonists, just observers to the recent anomaly that is gaining fame in their neck of the woods, that being the slums/vendor areas. I'm currently unsure if Lin and Arno would gain the same level of rapport as he does with PL any time soon, but for now she will remain neutral.

Also, I know they are pretty benevolent as underworld bosses would be considering that they stopped a potential slaughter. Their character types are just difficult to write for me.

 

[Paracsus]

Chapter — Even More Increased Demand

A few days after those visits, the cart became noticeably busier.

The change came quickly, but not enough to overwhelm its two staff members. More people began stopping by throughout the day, and the line formed earlier than it used to. The products had gained further popularity, just as Lin had predicted, and the effect was visible in the steady increase of customers rather than any sudden surge or disruption.

The usual crowd grew larger—office workers, couriers, students—but new faces began appearing as well. Some customers ordered in bulk. Others arrived with lists or containers prepared in advance. A few were clearly buying on behalf of groups rather than for themselves.

Neither Arno nor Niko knew the source of the change, or how the influx of people came to be.

Unbeknownst to them, the food Lin had purchased a few days before had been shared with her colleagues in the Lungmen Young Entrepreneurs' Association, as well as with personnel connected to the Rat King. Both groups tested the products over a period of time and the feedback was consistent: the food was filling without being heavy, was very healthy, and could be eaten quickly without interrupting work. With that approval, both sides began sending people to buy from the cart, not only for lunch breaks but also as part of their regular food provisions.

At the LGD office, the situation was very much the same. After the Senior Superintendent shared the location of the cart to those unaware, people started fighting over who would be the one to go there. Instead of officers leaving individually at different times to look, one person was assigned each day to pick up lunch for the entire station.

The position was fought over for a simple reason: whoever went to the cart that day had control over the order. They were the one who chose what went first on the list, what came back warm, and which items might run out before the rest arrived. If they wanted to eat immediately, they could, taking their first bite on the walk back while everyone else waited at their desks. The others knew this, which was why the task rotated only on paper. In practice, people bargained for it. Someone would offer to cover a report. Another would trade a later shift. A few didn't bother negotiating and simply volunteered early, knowing the first picker always benefited. By the time the runner returned, the office would already be watching the door. No one complained, because everyone understood the rules, and they did not want to get on the bad side of Senior Superintendent Ch'en for being rowdy.

The assignment rotated. Orders were written down ahead of time and grouped by item. By the time the designated officer arrived at the cart, Arno usually already had part of the order prepared.

Arno adjusted without changing his routine. He prepared larger batches of the same items, maintained the same spacing between orders, and stopped accepting new customers once his daily stock reached its limit. He did not rush and did not expand the menu. The pace of the cart remained steady.

As the week went by, Niko learned fast. She no longer needed to pause and think about which orders went together or how to stack boxes; it had become second nature. Her hands worked automatically to keep the counter clear, restock supplies, and prepare packaging without breaking the flow of the line. She eagerly anticipated Arno's directions, ready to fetch items the moment he asked. Even when the line surged, she adjusted seamlessly, never hesitating, never slowing the pace. By now, her presence was a steady part of the cart's routine, and customers noticed the smoothness of the operation as much as they did the food itself.

The system worked well enough that there were almost no complaints.

The customers also adapted to the heightened hustle and bustle. Runners appeared at scheduled times. They paid in full, collected their orders, and left without disrupting the line.

Some came every day. Others appeared every few days with larger requests.

The cart remained in the same place. The hours did not change.

By the end of the week, the street around it had adjusted. Customers knew when to arrive. Nearby vendors worked around the traffic rather than against it. Niko was no longer commented on or pointed out as much—she was simply recognized as a very cute part of the cart's operation.

---

The increase in traffic eventually reached a point where small adjustments were no longer enough.

By mid-morning, the line no longer thinned between rushes. Customers arrived earlier, stayed later, and returned in groups. Some waited with their own bags and written orders. Others asked if they could come back in the afternoon for a second pickup. Arno kept the same limits within reason, but even with careful pacing, the strain showed in how quickly solid stock ran low.

Niko then brought up an observation, as well as a common inquiry..

She didn't say anything at first. She just kept track of how often people asked if Arno had any good drinks to accompany the food. How many customers brought their own bottles and how often someone lingered after receiving food as if they were looking for something else than the normal, branded drinks that they see everywhere. When she finally mentioned it, she did it during dinner..

"People keep asking if we sell drinks," she said with a mouth full of curry. "Not just water. Something to go with the meals."

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Arno chastised, wiping a napkin at a bit of rice stuck to her face.

Arno considered it while sealing the last box of a bulk order. The cart already produced foodstuff efficiently, yet all he had at this point were the drinks that other stores had. The demand for something different was there, and more importantly, it was consistent.

That evening, after closing, the cart was updated. It was as if to reward Arno and Niko for the recent increase in sales.

The next morning, a new addition was added next to the shelf on where the bentos and bread sat. A chest full of ice, and among the ice was some thirst quenchers.

Fae Feast Accompaniment : Quenching Concoctions (Canned and Bottled)

Consumed orally. Stays cold.
Effect: quenches thirst and leaves the consumer feeling refreshed. Provides minor heat resistance.
Duration: immediate; persists for several hours.
Aftereffect: none; repeated consumption does not cause discomfort.
Available items include:

• Apple juice
• Citrus juice
• Berry juice
• Green tea
• Herbal tea

Sizes:
- Cans: 350 ml & 500 ml
- Bottles: 750 ml & 1L


The chest of drinks changed the atmosphere around the cart almost immediately.

By mid-morning, the heat had already settled into the street, and the line showed no sign of thinning. Customers arrived earlier than usual, some already carrying notebooks or folded slips with their orders written out. Others stood patiently, eyes moving between the menu board and the new chest set beside the cart. The lid was kept closed most of the time, but when Niko lifted it to show off the available contents, the sound of ice shifting and the cool air spilling out drew attention.

People asked the common questions at first. What flavors were available. Whether the drinks were cold all the way through. If they could open them while waiting. Arno answered plainly.

"Yes, they were cold. Yes, they could be opened immediately." He brought out a larger bottle that contained the Green Tea variant. "The larger ones are brought here at the counter to make room for the cans in the cooler. If you want a suggestion on the juice, ask Niko."

"I like mixed berry juice!" the aforementioned assistant chirped.

Once the first few customers did, the rest followed without hesitation.

People opened cans as they waited, the hiss of seals breaking becoming part of the background noise. The drinks made the wait easier. Customers shifted less. Complaints about the heat stopped entirely. The line stayed long, but it moved steadily, and people stayed in place instead of stepping out and returning later.

That was when the incident happened later in the afternoon.

Niko had been watching the chest more closely than the counter. It wasn't something Arno had asked her to do, but she had learned quickly that the drinks drew attention even when no one spoke. She noticed who reached for them, who hesitated, and who looked around before opening one.

A man standing near the middle of the line caught her eye.

He had grabbed a can before entering the line. He tried to be discreet when he opened the lid just enough to slip his hand inside, pulled out a can, and turned his body slightly away from the cart as he joined the line. As if to avoid drawing attention, while also hiding from Arno's gaze as he was busy bagging food.

Niko frowned.

The troublemaker's shoulders hunched as he popped the tab and took several quick drinks, his head lowered. Then, he looked around once more, but this time to look for something else.

She watched as he shifted his weight and glanced toward the trash bin near the corner of the street. The can disappeared from his hand a moment later. Instead of going inside the bin, it hit the rim and fell to the ground with a sharp metallic sound.

Several people heard it..

The officer's eyes followed the can as it came to a stop at his boot. He looked up and immediately spotted the man frozen in place, wide-eyed and realizing he had been caught.

Niko, watching from near the counter, stepped forward and spoke out. Her voice was firm and louder than she intended. "Hey! You need to pay for that!"

The man whirled around, feigning confusion. "What? I… I didn't—"

"You opened the drink and tried to throw it away!," Niko said sharply. "It's not free."

The troublemaker walked menacingly towards her. "Considering you're new here, I don't know if the shopkeeper pays you to lie–." He snarled, attempting to intimidate her into silence.

The LGD officer stepped in before it could escalate, and leaned slightly forward, his tone calm but unmistakable. "Sir, I saw the throw. You can't just take it without paying."

The man's face immediately paled as he was unaware that he got caught by someone from the Lungmen Guard Department. His earlier aggression at Niko forgotten, he continued to try making excuses about it all being a mistake, stuttering that he already paid and just went back to the line.

Arno stepped up behind the counter to address the troublemaker, his expression serious. "Listen carefully. Others have tried stealing before, none have succeeded. Some of them are not allowed here anymore because they refused to listen the first time. If this happens again, you won't be allowed here. Understood?"

The line shifted. Conversations stopped. Several people turned fully to look.

The man scoffed. "C-Come on, are you serious right now? It's just juice."

Arno walked back to the counter and continued his work. His expression didn't change, but his attention was fully on the situation now. "It's part of the stock," he said evenly. "If you take it, you pay for it."

The man crossed his arms. "It wasn't even that good." He sneered derisively

"That doesn't matter," Arno replied. "Once it's opened, it's sold."

The LGD officer nodded once. "That's standard procedure , sir."

Someone near the front of the line spoke up. "We all paid for ours. What makes you so special?"

Another voice added, annoyed that the drama was causing the line to stall. "If everyone did that, this place wouldn't last a day! Can you not afford it!?"

The man flushed at that last remark. His eyes flicked between Arno and Niko, the officer, and the people watching him. He bent down with a sharp movement, picked up the can, and looked at it like it had become a problem he hadn't expected.

"Fine," he muttered.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the exact amount, and placed it on the counter. The sound of paper and coins hitting wood was louder than necessary.

Arno rang it up without comment and slid the receipt aside. Then he looked directly at the man. "Don't do it again," he said once more. "If you try to take something without paying, you won't be served here anymore."

The warning was clear. No anger. No raised voice.

The LGD officer stepped slightly to the side, making space in the line. "That's your warning," he added. "Next time, pay first."

The man said nothing. He took his food when it was handed to him, grabbed the can, and left the line quickly without looking back.

For a moment, the street was quiet.

Niko bent down, picked up the dented can lid that had fallen loose, and dropped it properly into the bin. She returned to her place beside the chest, hands clasped together, posture a little straighter than before.

"Good catch," the LGD officer said quietly as he stepped forward to place his order.

Niko nodded, looking down shyly. "I just saw it happen, sir."

Arno glanced at her briefly and nodded. "You did a good job. Thank you Niko."

The line moved again.

People resumed their conversations. More cans were opened—but now mostly after payment, always handed over clearly at the counter. No one else tried to test the system.

The drinks continued to sell steadily, easing the wait and keeping the line orderly. By the time the rush passed, the drinks were a smash hit as it paired extremely well with the already incredible food.

Suffice to say, even with that afternoon hiccup, the day and the new product were a success.

---

Sparks of the Past

It was Saturday, and the streets around the cart were unusually quiet. The bustle of the week had faded, and for the first time in days, Arno and Niko had no customers to attend to. The cart sat closed, the counter wiped clean, and the morning sunlight spilled softly across the pavement.

Niko wanted to sleep in today, after the very tiring day of sales with the addition of a failed Dine-and-Dash yesterday. As she was dreaming about the wheat fields around her village, she was awoken by a very familiar aroma.

"Wait… is that…?"

Arno emerged from the kitchen, a small tray in his hands. On it were three enormous, golden soufflé pancakes, piled high, topped with whipped cream, a pat of butter, and syrup glistening over the edges. "Surprise," he said simply.

Niko's eyes went wide. "Are those… pancakes?! But… they're huge!" She leaned closer, hands clasped together in disbelief. "And… so fluffy! Where did you get these?"

Arno shrugged lightly, setting the tray down carefully. "I made them."

Niko blinked at him. "You… made them? All by yourself?"

"Mm," Arno said, nodding. "Soufflé pancakes. They're a little different from regular pancakes. The batter is whipped until light and airy, then cooked slowly on low heat. They rise more than normal pancakes and stay soft and fluffy all the way through. I thought you deserved a little reward for yesterday."

Niko's ears twitched with excitement. "A reward? For me?" She clapped her hands together, practically bouncing in place. "Wow…"

Arno offered her the first plate. "Go on. Try it."

Niko's eyes went even wider, sparkling. "A treat for me? Really? For meee?" She grinned and laughed, practically bouncing in her seat. "This is the best! I… I've never had pancakes like this before. They're huge and so fluffy!"

Arno nodded quietly, brushing a hand over the counter. "You've been working hard. You kept up with everything yesterday—even with the drinks and the rush. You earned it."

Niko's grin grew even bigger. "Yay! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She took another bite, humming happily as the soft pancake melted in her mouth. "Mmm… oh, wow… it's sooo good! I can't believe you made these! They're perfect!"

She kept going, forkful after forkful, her eyes lighting up with each bite. For the first time since she started helping at the cart, she felt completely relaxed. No lines, no customers, no rush—just the warm sunlight, quiet streets, and pancakes that tasted like they were made just for her.

By the time she leaned back, licking a little syrup from her fingers, she let out a happy sigh. "Arno… these are the best pancakes ever. Really, really the best!"

Arno nodded quietly, a faint smile on his face. "Good. You deserved it."

Niko had just finished a bite of the pancake when a strange lump formed in her throat. The fluffy sweetness, the warm butter, the syrup sliding over the edge—it all felt familiar, too familiar. Her mind flicked back to a small, sunlit kitchen, the smell of pancakes filling the air, Mama humming softly while flipping them one by one.

She remembered how Mama used to make extra-large stacks when she had a long day at school, how the syrup would drip down the sides and Mama would laugh when Niko tried to catch it with her fork. She remembered sitting at the table, sleepy and happy, feeling like everything was okay because Mama was there.

A tightness crept into Niko's chest. Her fork wavered in her hand, and her ears drooped. "I… I miss her," she whispered, her voice trembling. A small hiccup of a sob escaped, then another. Tears pricked at her eyes, spilling down her cheeks.

Arno's eyes softened as he saw her, and he quickly stepped closer, keeping his tone calm and steady. "Hey… Niko, it's okay," he said gently. "It's alright to miss her."

She sniffled, brushing at her tears with the back of her hand. "I… I didn't think it would… I feel like this. I thought… I thought I'd just be happy with the pancakes." Her voice broke, small and shaky. "But it… it reminds me of Mama. And I… I miss her so much."

Arno crouched down slightly to be closer to her level. "I understand," he said softly. "I can't bring her back, but I can… I can be here while you remember her. And we can enjoy these together, okay?"

Niko nodded, hiccuping again, and rested her head lightly against the counter. Arno handed her a napkin and a glass of water, then gently took her hand. "You don't have to hold this in all the time," he continued. "It's okay to cry. It's okay to miss these kinds of things. I'm sorry for reminding you of your Mama"

She wiped at her cheeks, but a few tears still lingered. "I… I just wish she could've made these for me too," Niko admitted, voice quiet. "I… I loved it when she and my neighbors made food. They were so happy when they shared…"

Arno nodded slowly, letting a small pause settle between them. Then, with a small smile, he said, "Well… for today, I can help with that. These pancakes are yours. You don't have to share if you don't want to. You can eat them, remember her, and… maybe even feel a little closer to her."

Niko blinked, a small smile starting to peek through her tears. She took a deep breath, then dug in again, this time a little more slowly, savoring each bite. She still felt the ache in her chest, but Arno stayed close, silent but steady, letting her feel her feelings without judgment.

Arno watched her quietly for a moment, then leaned a little closer. "I know how you feel," he said softly. "I miss some things too."

Niko looked up at him, her eyes still a little wet. "You… do?"

He nodded, giving a small, wry smile. "I used to live in a big city. Lots of people, lots of noise, but… it felt like home. I had a bunch of friends from college—people I met up with regularly, shared meals, laughed about nothing for hours. And there was this one old man at a sandwich shop I used to go to. Funny guy. Always had stories that made me laugh, and he never forgot to sneak in an extra serving or two if he knew I'd had a long day."

Niko blinked, wiping at her cheeks. "So… you miss them?"

"Yeah," Arno said quietly. "I miss the people I had in my life, the sounds of happiness, and the little routines. But thinking about it… remembering it doesn't make the present any less real. It just… reminds me what I liked, and helps me make new good things where I am now."

Niko sniffled, taking a deep breath. "Like… like how Mama made pancakes for me… and now you made some for me?"

"Exactly," he said softly. "You get to enjoy the memories and the new moments at the same time. Doesn't have to be one or the other."

Her tail flicked slightly, and she gave a small, shy smile. "I… I think I understand. It feels… nice."

Arno nodded. "Good. Just remember, it's okay to miss things. And it's okay to enjoy what's in front of you."

Niko took another bite of the fluffy pancake, slowly this time, letting the warmth and sweetness settle. Her sadness had faded, leaving a quiet comfort.

After a few moments, she wiped her eyes completely and smiled up at him. "You really had a fun life back then, huh?"

"I did," Arno admitted, a faint chuckle escaping him. "And I still have good things here, just… different. You get to have your memories, I get mine. And we can share them, too."

Niko's ears twitched, and she leaned closer, curiosity shining in her eyes. "Can you… tell me more about your world? And your friends? And the sandwich guy?"

Arno nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Sure. And you can tell me about your school, and Mama, and the things you liked doing before…"

They spent the rest of the morning and lunchtime sharing pieces of their worlds, laughing and remembering, slowly filling the quiet space of the cart with stories and comfort. By the time the sun had climbed higher, and the pancakes were gone, Niko's tears had disappeared entirely, replaced by warm smiles and new memories made together.

---

AN: I think it was about time to build a little upon Arno and Niko's characters in this fic by letting them remember the things they lost. And I think it was a good call to segue into that by giving a relatively slow chapter as opposed to the others which were a bit more drama packed with the introduction of the Major Players, as well as Reselling Attempts.


The chapter slows the story as a sort of cooldown period. It is to see these quieter, human moments in between the busy days at the cart. It also highlights the bond between Arno and Niko as they reflect on what they've left behind and what they're building now, giving a sense of warmth and stability before the next rush of events hits. It's a pause that deepens the characters without needing dramatic conflict, showing them learning, adapting, and finding comfort in each other. I just decided to finally write this chapter this way since Niko's first two weeks on Terra are finally over.

Here's a pic of her eating pancakes, straight from the game.

 

[Rockow]

Was the scene of Niko recieving pancakes supposed to be repeated twice? They have different wording but the same outcome so I guess a previous version managed to sneak in?

 

[Paracsus]

Was the scene of Niko recieving pancakes supposed to be repeated twice? They have different wording but the same outcome so I guess a previous version managed to sneak in?

Click to shrink...

Thanks for that. It's harder to edit the chapters while on a phone. I couldn't see it.

 

[Despacitoleo]

god i am sad now. . . damm . . . you . . . author. . . or something im to sad in the feels
View: https://giphy.com/gifs/cat-sad-crying-7AzEXdIb1wyCTWJntb

 

[Scottyzelsnyder]

the pancakes scene is making me flashback to that indiecross episode. they are adorable

 

[Hopless-Curiousity]

Still liking the story, but wanted to throw in constructive criticism. There's still way too many repeated details, albeit it's mostly just sentences now instead of entire paragraphs of word bloat like in earlier chapters.

Others arrived with lists or containers prepared in advance.

Click to shrink...

Customers arrived earlier than usual, some already carrying notebooks or folded slips with their orders written out.

Click to shrink...

Stuff like that. This very chapter at the beginning you already established that customers were arriving with lists already written out. This sentence, at that placement, adds little to the story.

It happens frequently enough in the story that it detracts from the enjoyment of reading it. Your writing is getting better, and this was the only one that stood out to me this time.

But this thing with repeating already established details multiple times in the same chapter seems to occur every single chapter. And it's the biggest flaw that stands out to me, especially when it's recursive character dialogue.

 

[Paracsus]

Still liking the story, but wanted to throw in constructive criticism. There's still way too many repeated details, albeit it's mostly just sentences now instead of entire paragraphs of word bloat like in earlier chapters.



Stuff like that. This very chapter at the beginning you already established that customers were arriving with lists already written out. This sentence, at that placement, adds little to the story.

It happens frequently enough in the story that it detracts from the enjoyment of reading it. Your writing is getting better, and this was the only one that stood out to me this time.

But this thing with repeating already established details multiple times in the same chapter seems to occur every single chapter. And it's the biggest flaw that stands out to me, especially when it's recursive character dialogue.

Click to shrink...

Thanks for this. My beta's earlier critique was that I had too little descriptions, so I guess I end up just retaining it too often altogether. Also, still me trying too beef up segments since they feel too short. But I'll try and just straight up add different content.

 

[Paracsus]

Fuck. I saw this pic half an hour ago and I just realized that I missed out on writing Tiny Niko.

Just imagine her waddling from a shelf to a customer while holding a pack of Sugarettes that's almost as tall as her is killing me.

https://www.reddit.com/media?url=https%3A%2F%2Fi.redd.it%2Fc0bly9r2nh0f1.jpeg

 

[Paracsus]

Acquisition of Supplies

The first orders arrived shortly after Rhodes Island caught wind of Windrunner's Fuel.

Small quantities were procured as a controlled exception by personnel already operating in Lungmen: carefully logged, restricted to individual use, and governed by a clear standing order to only observe and record further findings, but not to interfere with the cart's operations. The product was useful but niche; bars meant to increase the user's speed without them suffering any backlash. The only caveat being that it seemed to fail when used for anything else but getting to a destination in a hurry. Very simple, if strange.

Then the reports about the food started being flagged.

Unlike the granola bar, the bentos, bread, and drinks slipped in quietly. They showed up first as routine expense entries: meals bought during patrol rotations, drinks added almost as an afterthought, paper bags stacked in break rooms. No one filed formal reports at first because they assumed the bentos and bread were simply healthy and inexpensive meals.

That was the case until people started feeling less hungry, even without the use of their stimulants.

Operators remarked that they stayed full longer than expected. Meals were easy to eat between tasks. The barley drink helped with the midday Lungmen heat without leaving them sluggish. The language stayed matter-of-fact: comfort and reliability, no performance spikes this time. No one claimed to feel faster, stronger, or sharper. They just didn't feel the need to eat.

Medical oversight noticed the pattern across weeks. Shifts relying on the anomalous meals logged fewer fatigue and digestion complaints. Stimulant use stayed flat. Supplement requests did not rise. Operators returned from duty tired in the ordinary way, not drained. Vitals and sleep records remained stable. From a clinical perspective, the food behaved exactly like a baseline field ration should—only more consistently than most.

Logistics caught on next.

Once spoilage, waste, and transport were factored in, the cost per meal undercut several standard provisions. Packaging held up well. No exotic storage was required.

The midday break room in the Lungmen office had grown quieter—not from fewer people, but from how many were eating at once. Bentos sat open, steam curling upward. Empty cans were rinsed and neatly put away. One operator set her chopsticks down.

"This costs less than the usual stuff we order," she said. "And it actually keeps me full."

Her teammate nodded, still chewing. "Didn't even touch my emergency stash today."

Another glanced at his drink label. "The barley one handles the heat. Two hours on post and I wasn't wilting."

There was no excitement—just mild, shared disbelief at something working better than expected without asking for attention.

A logistics aide walked in with her own bag and paused at the spread. "You guys are feeling it too?"

Several nods.

She exhaled, half amused. "I've been quietly adjusting supply requests all week. People keep buying their own instead of pulling from stores. If I don't correct the numbers, nothing balances."

Later that afternoon the branch coordinator sent a brief internal note up the chain: reduced ration draw, stable operator condition, consistent pricing, positive reception.

The response came two days later.

---

From: Kal'tsit

To: Rhodes Island Lungmen Branch Command

CC: Medical Oversight, Logistics Division, Amiya

Subject: Immediate Procurement Authorization — Lungmen Mobile Vendor

After twenty-four hours of controlled on-site testing and preliminary review of operator feedback, medical logs, and logistical data collected yesterday, the food from the subject vendor has demonstrated consistent, positive utility with no detectable adverse effects.

Effective immediately, Rhodes Island personnel operating in Lungmen are authorized—and encouraged—to allocate logistics funds for the procurement of consumables from the identified mobile cart. This authorization upgrades the previous observation-only status to active operational provisioning.

All purchases are subject to the following mandatory conditions:

1. Procurement is strictly for field use, operator sustainment, and routine operational needs.
2. Any attempt to alter, replicate, reverse-engineer, or improve upon the acquired items is strictly prohibited.
3. All observed effects—physiological, performance-related, or logistical—are to be recorded in detail within standard post-operation logs, with particular attention to duration of satiety, heat tolerance, and fatigue recovery.
4. Lungmen Branch Command is directed to establish contact with the merchant today and initiate negotiations for a structured, ongoing supply arrangement.

Present Rhodes Island as a reliable, high-volume institutional client prepared to offer consistent demand, prompt settlement, and full respect for the merchant's existing operations and proprietary methods. Propose terms that secure priority or standing access for our field teams without demanding exclusivity or disclosure of production details.

If the merchant is open to discussion, prepare a draft agreement reflecting mutual benefit and forward it to central command for review before signature. Should he decline or express reservations, withdraw the proposal immediately, document the interaction verbatim, and continue with spot purchases under this authorization.

The decision to move forward is based on empirical results from yesterday's testing: measurable reduction in ration draw, improved operator comfort during extended shifts, and predictable consumption patterns that ease logistical strain. This is not experimentation. This is adoption of a proven resource.

Report initial contact outcome and any proposed terms by end of day tomorrow. Further guidance will follow as necessary.

Stability through preparation. Not through hesitation.

— Kal'tsit

---

A priority directive arrived, brief and unmistakably hers.

Approach the cart's owner as buyers. Inquire politely whether he would consider a standing supply arrangement for Rhodes Island operations in Lungmen. No pressure, no exclusivity demands, no probing for recipes or methods. If he declined, the matter was to be dropped immediately and reported without escalation.

The Lungmen coordinator read the order twice, then leaned back.

"A contract," he muttered.

An operator nearby raised an eyebrow. "Think he'll go for it?"

"I don't know," the coordinator said, gaze drifting toward the window and the city streets beyond. "But Command wouldn't ask if it wasn't worth a shot."

The message was forwarded to the small team familiar with the cart's location and schedule. Arrangements were made to approach during closing hours with funds allocated and terms prepared.

---

Initial Negotiations and Adjustments

They approached near closing time on purpose.

The crowd had thinned out. The last customers had left with their paper bags. The street was quieter, with less traffic and fewer people around. Arno was already doing his usual end-of-day tasks: wiping down the counter, checking the remaining stock, and putting containers back in their places. Niko worked next to him, stacking empty crates and securing the lids.

She saw them first.

Two adults stopped a short distance from the cart. They wore the standard Rhodes Island uniform—dark gray jackets with the small Rhodes Island logo on the chest. No other markings, no weapons visible. They stood calmly, not crowding the cart.

"Niko," Arno said quietly, without looking up. "Finish the left side."

She nodded and moved to the other end of the cart, continuing her work but keeping them in her peripheral vision.

They waited until Arno finished closing the last container, wiped his hands, and shut the till. Then they stepped forward.

"Good evening," the woman said. Her voice was calm and professional. "We know you're closing. We won't take much of your time."

Arno turned to face them. "If you want to buy food, come back tomorrow."

The man shook his head. "Not here to buy tonight."

Arno looked at them both. "Then tell me why you're here."

The woman took one small step closer, still keeping a clear distance from the cart. "My name is Liane. This is Mark. We're from Rhodes Island's Lungmen branch office."

Arno's expression didn't change. "I've sold to your people before. Many times."

"Yes," Liane said. "That's why we're here."

She kept her hands visible and relaxed at her sides. "For several weeks, our operators have been buying your bentos, bread, and drinks. At first it was individual purchases. Then more people started buying regularly. We've kept records of what they bought and when."

Arno nodded once. "That's your business."

Mark spoke next. "It's become something that has helped in our usual tasks. Your food and drinks are consistent in its effects. Operators stay full longer, handle the heat better, and have fewer fatigue complaints. It reduces our ration usage and makes shift planning easier."

Liane looked directly at Arno. "We're not here to stop you from operating. We're here because Rhodes Island wants to discuss an arrangement. Nothing exclusive. No changes to how you run the cart. Just a way for us to buy directly from you, in predictable amounts, for our personnel in Lungmen."

Niko's hands tightened on the crate she was holding. She glanced at Arno, then looked down again.

Arno stayed silent for several seconds. When he spoke, his voice was even. "I don't do bulk contracts. I don't increase production beyond what I can handle each day. I don't change recipes. I don't promise stock beyond what I make in the morning. Those things aren't up for discussion."

Liane nodded. "We know. Those conditions were already discussed internally before we came. We're not asking you to change your production or recipes."

Mark added, "We're only asking if you're willing to set aside a fixed portion of what you already make each day, so we can buy it directly. If you agree, we'll plan around that amount. If not, we'll keep buying whatever is left at the end of the day, the way we do now."

Arno crossed his arms. "And if I say no?"

"Then nothing changes," Liane said clearly. "We continue with spot purchases. We report that you declined. That's it. No further action."

The street was quiet around them. No one else was nearby.

Niko spoke up, her voice small but clear. "You're not going to take anything if he says no, right? You won't force him? Or take over the cart?"

Liane turned to her right away. "No. We will not take anything you don't sell to us. We will not interfere with your regular customers. We will not pressure you or involve anyone else. That is not how Rhodes Island does things."

Mark nodded. "We're here as buyers. Nothing more."

Niko looked at Arno. He met her eyes briefly, then turned back to Liane and Mark.

"This isn't something I decide standing here at closing time," he said.

"Understood," Liane replied.

She reached into her jacket pocket slowly, showing her hand the whole time, and took out a plain card. She placed it on the edge of the counter, far enough that Arno didn't need to move to reach it.

"This is the direct contact number for our Lungmen branch. There's no deadline. Call if you want to talk more. Or don't. It's up to you."

Arno didn't pick up the card.

"I'll think about it," he said.

"That's all we need," Liane replied.

They stepped back together, giving the cart plenty of space. Mark looked once more at the clean counter and organized crates, then followed Liane down the street.

Niko waited until they were gone. "Arno…?"

He exhaled slowly and finished securing the last latch on the cart.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he said. "For now, nothing changes."

He turned off the lantern above the cart.

Niko nodded, but her eyes stayed on the card still sitting on the counter.

---

Arno prepared dinner as usual after a hard day's work. The knife passed through vegetables in clean, even strokes. Carrot. Onion. Greens. Normally, he would be fully engrossed in this task since he still considers himself as an amateur that was still being taught by their parents and YouTube videos on how not to set the apartment on fire.

Tonight, however, his focus was elsewhere..

His thoughts kept drifting back to the two Rhodes Island operators from earlier.

They had approached just as he was closing the cart, the street settling into its evening quiet. No attempt to hide who they were. Their uniforms were plain, practical, worn like work clothes rather than symbols. They had introduced themselves, stated their purpose, and explained the matter plainly.

Then they said that they would wait for his response. That restraint stayed with him.

Others, in the past, had always followed a pattern. Interest first. Then leverage. Offers became expectations. Expectations turned into assumptions. When Arno refused, the conversation never ended cleanly.

At times, they even came with the "you don't know who you're dealing with!" line, as well as threats of violence.

Rhodes Island hadn't crossed that line.

They had explained why the food mattered—long shifts, fewer chances to stop, the need for something reliable. They had pointed out what he already knew: the meals kept people steady, the drinks helped in the heat, complaints dropped. They didn't want him to expand. They didn't want exclusivity. They only asked if he would consider setting aside part of his stock for them as part of an agreement.

And if he said no, they would keep buying what they could at the end of the day.

That was what unsettled him most.

Arno washed his hands and glanced toward the counter. The card lay exactly where he had left it—clean, unmarked, unassuming. All it had to distinguish itself was the name of the organization, their hotline number, as well as the logo that contained a white triangle with a Rook-style tower at the middle of it.

A contract meant structure. For them, that meant reliability. For him, it meant obligation. Even a small agreement tied his work to someone else's expectations. Needs changed. Policies shifted. What started as cooperation could become pressure without anyone intending it to.

The rice cooker clicked softly behind him.

He exhaled and turned back to the stove.

He didn't dislike Rhodes Island. If anything, he was simply neutral in his stance regarding them and their mission. Hence, in his head, why should he change his regular methods for them?

As he finished plating dinner, something shifted at the edge of his awareness. Not a sound. Not a voice. Just a familiar, quiet sensation—like a notice being placed where only he could see it.

Arno paused.

The Cart's presence settled, restrained as always, and the information surfaced without ceremony through a piece of paper that landed on the desk.

Niko, who was setting up the table at the time, put the plates down and approached the desk. She grabbed the paper and read it aloud for Arno to hear since he was still looking after their dinner.

"Umm…it says:" She started. Clearing her throat.

---

CART PROTOCOL AMENDMENT NOTICE

Applicable Entity: Mobile Merchant Cart
Primary Operator: Arno
Authorization Level: Absolute

Sustained demand has reached a threshold permitting controlled allocation.

The Primary Operator is now authorized to enter limited supply agreements for pre-allocated procurement, without violating existing integrity or enforcement protocols.

Authorized entities may purchase reserved quantities as complete, sealed goods, subject to the following:

• Allocation approval, scale, and duration remain solely at the discretion of the Primary Operator.
• Daily output limits will not be exceeded.
• No exclusivity is granted.
• No process access is conferred.
• All existing product integrity, ownership, and anti-coercion rules remain in force.

External operation of the Cart will remain unchanged.
No visible indicators of allocation agreements will be displayed.

This authorization exists to permit stability—not expansion.

Enforcement: Automatic
Override: Primary Operator Only
Duration: Indefinite

---

Niko finished reading and lowered the card. The burner was still on low, making a faint sound beneath the pot.

Arno stayed where he was, one hand on the spoon. He didn't react right away. He looked at the pot, then at the counter, letting the notice sit with him. There was no push to act and no sense that anything was expected of him immediately.

And then there was a slight rumble and shift that occurred in the cart. Arno glances over at the back where he keeps the shelves and compartments strictly sized for the extra stock of the food and drinks. But now, a subtle but clear change has occurred.

A section of the cart, previously empty, has expanded. The area of which contained shelves where extra stock on the current products they currently had now had a space next that was occupied by large boxes. These were not the regular cardboard boxes of which extra stock would appear in, but actual crates that were designed to carry orders that were bought in massive bulk. Each crate could most likely carry at least 20 bentos and/or loaves and still have space for the same number of drinks.

It even had a small trolley to easily move the crates from A to B.

The boxes were empty right now, but its presence makes it obvious that if Arno wanted, he could pre-load dozens of complete, sealed meal boxes for delivery or pickup by approved buyers. There's no extra signage or extra set of instructions, just a spacious compartment carved out in accordance to his needs..

The Cart wasn't telling him to take the offer. It had instead given him a way to ease the burden on making such large orders easier. It had updated the rules and left the choice with him.

If he decided to agree to a supply arrangement at some point, the conditions were already laid out. Limits were clear. Control stayed with him. Nothing about how he worked would need to change.

If he chose not to act, nothing else would be affected. The cart would open as usual. Sales would stay the same. No part of his routine would be disrupted.

Arno turned off the burner and took the card from Niko. He read it again, slower this time, checking each line. To check if he understood it correctly.

He set the card down on the desk and went back to preparing dinner. The decision didn't need to be made tonight.

But he understood now that if he ever did choose to move forward, the Cart would allow it within reason, and for as much as he was comfortable with.

While he was busy ruminating, Niko had taken a look at the trolley with a gleam in her eye. She jumped on and was about to ride around on it and possibly crash into the shelves if Arno hadn't stopped her in time.

"You cannot ride on this, you might get hurt or break something." Arno admonished.

Niko slumped, disappointed that her plan failed. "Aaawww…"

After that, a dinner of stir-fried vegetables and fried chicken ("Fowlbeast, right. Fowlbeast." Arno reminded himself." was eaten, and both residents went to bed after playing some games.

---

AN: If this chapter felt a bit weird, I had a hard time trying to reintroduce Rhodes Island back into the story without having Arno and Niko meet another named character so soon after meeting Lin. I also wasn't exactly sure how to be able to allow bulk orders without just breaking some rules (such as the one that prevents speedrunning a wealth strat) as well as not break immersion. Suffice to say, I did my best.

Enjoy, dear consumers!

 

[DuckaBoo385]

Chapter.

Click to shrink...

Sorry OP, this chapter is not threadmarked.

 

[Paracsus]

Sorry OP, this chapter is not threadmarked.

Click to shrink...

Woops

 

[Loggger_master]

Kal'tsit would likely go crazy trying to figure out his angle if she ever figured Arno's origins right. She would (logically) assume no person who's like the 3rd last of their race alive would waste their time doing this.
Unfortunately, Arno's on that shopkeeper grind.

 

[stoodeu]

Thanks for the chapter.