Daigan’s figure appeared on the streets of Snezhnaya City.
Columbina had vanished at some point, and the system finally lowered its guard.
Unlike the dead silence of the far north, this place was filled with steam and clamor.
The chill and scent of blood clinging to him made him stand out in the crowd, causing passersby to give him a wide berth.
Just as he was about to head straight to the quest location at the Marionette’s Factory, the system’s voice suddenly chimed.
[Ding!
Prerequisite Quest Triggered: A Gift]
[Quest Description: Present a gift to the tea party host to make her happier.
Doing so might grant you better treatment.]
Daigan came to a halt, his brows knitting slightly.
This was the first time he had encountered a special “side quest” like this.
“A gift?
What do you mean?” he asked, somewhat confused.
[Give a gift,] the system replied succinctly.
“Why should I give a gift?”
[Because…
it is a quest.]
There was a subtle, almost imperceptible hint of embarrassment in the system’s voice.
It recalled how Daigan had acted disrespectfully toward an energy unit over Level 90 back in the palace, and how he had completely ignored another high-level energy unit in the factory a few days ago.
To prevent its host from having life made difficult for him in the future, the system—which had accompanied Daigan for over twenty years—decided to forcibly intervene and perform social calibration.
Daigan stood on the street, looking around.
In his vision, although most buildings had doors and windows, they could not be entered—they were non-interactive background props.
After looking around, his gaze finally locked onto the sole icon faintly glowing yellow: a vegetable stall where an old man sat.
“Do you think I should buy radishes or cabbages?
Or maybe a hundred portions of butter?
If it’s milk, I can buy a hundred portions of that too.
As for sausages, I’d need to buy meat first and process it.”
Daigan muttered to himself as he walked toward the vegetable stall.
[Well…]
The system fell into a brief silence; it hadn’t considered this level of detail.
A second before Daigan stepped toward the stall, the system executed an emergency override.
[Creating a new interactive location for the host…]
Following the system prompt, a restaurant icon not far ahead of Daigan instantly lit up, becoming clear and sharp.
At the same time, a distinct voice—sounding like a greeting from another world—drilled into his ears.
“Welcome, customer!
Please step inside!”
Looking at the receptionist outside the door, Daigan thought for a moment, left the vegetable stall, and walked into the restaurant.
Warm air and the aroma of food rushed over him, forming a stark contrast with the chill radiating from his body.
The waitress behind the counter was a young girl.
Although she didn’t recognize Daigan’s identity, his attire—stained with ice ice shavings and blood—along with his cold, expressionless eyes made her refrain from being the slightest bit disrespectful.
“S-Sir, how may I help you?” she asked, trembling.
Daigan didn’t answer.
He simply stood quietly in front of the counter, his eyes fixed on a row of food descriptions that had floated into his vision:
[Snezhnayan Baked Potato] Description: Uses the simplest charcoal fire to bake out the most authentic warmth.
[Pickled Sauerkraut] Description: A taste fermented by time during long winter nights.
[Spicy Stew] Description: A rich soup simmered with generous amounts of meat and vegetables to drive away the bitter cold.
[Sea Salt Caramel Tempest Cheesecake] Description: A children’s favorite.
Sweet without being cloying, melting the moment it hits the tongue.
Seconds ticked by.
In reality, Daigan had been standing in front of the counter for over ten minutes.
No matter how patient the waitress was, she was starting to grow annoyed.
Out of fear, she quietly reported the situation to the restaurant owner in the back kitchen.
The owner was a middle-aged man with a protruding belly.
He walked out with a smile, but seeing Daigan covered in dirt and stains, he subconsciously assumed a troublesome drunkard had stumbled in.
“Sir, what would you like to order?” the owner asked, a insincere smile on his face.
Daigan remained silent.
Seeing this, the smile on the owner’s face faded slightly.
“Sir, if you’re just here to stay warm, there are empty seats over there.
If you aren’t ordering food, please step outside.
You’re blocking our normal business.”
Daigan stood motionless, like a statue.
At this, the owner’s smile vanished completely.
He turned around, went into the back, and brought out two muscle-bound men with fierce faces.
[Energy Unit Scan: Level 15.
Non-threat.]
The system scanned the two thugs.
These “energy units” weren’t even worthy of having health bars displayed; they posed zero threat and didn’t even qualify to consume energy display overheads.
It didn’t bother intervening.
“Boss, is this the beggar making trouble?”
The two thugs closed in, spewing vulgarities as they put their hands on Daigan, trying to drag him out.
Yet Daigan stood in place as if his feet were rooted to the ground.
They couldn’t budge him in the slightest.
In the system’s eyes, this was like ants trying to move an elephant.
“Oh ho, pretty stubborn, aren’t you?”
Seeing Daigan make no response, a flash of madness crossed the eyes of one thug.
He grabbed a thick glass wine bottle, grinned menacingly, and smashed it hard against Daigan’s head!
“I’ll teach you to play dead!”
*Bang!*
Wine splattered everywhere, drenching Daigan.
The red wine streamed down his head, making it impossible to tell whether it was wine or blood.
“Dammit, wasted a bottle of good wine.”
“Haha!
Let’s see if you keep pretending now!” The other thug, seeing Daigan still unresponsive, thought he had been stunned senseless.
Becoming even more arrogant, he stepped forward and slapped Daigan’s wine-soaked head.
“Speak up!
Weren’t you acting tough just now?!”
The surrounding diners watching the spectacle burst into quiet laughter.
In their eyes, this weirdo was dead meat.
However, the thug holding the broken bottle noticed something wrong.
The man hadn’t reacted at all.
“Damn it.”
He spat on the ground, holding the broken half of the bottle, its sharp edge pressed directly against Daigan’s neck.
“I’ve seen plenty of guys like you.
Want to play hardball, pulling tricks on me?”
He threatened viciously, even bringing the broken glass fragment closer to Daigan’s open eyes.
“Get out!
Or I’ll gouge out a chunk of your eyeball.
Want to run around dangling half an eye?”
The other thug slapped Daigan’s head from the side, pushing his face toward the glass bottle while jeering, “Don’t scare him to death, haha!”
Under the humiliating slaps, Daigan’s face edged closer to the glass bottle bit by bit, accompanied by the amused laughter of the onlookers.
The instant the broken bottle was about to cut into Daigan’s eyeball—
[Tsk…]
In a corner invisible to Daigan, a string of yellow warning numbers flashed.
[Collision Mechanism Enabled, Stats Adjusted to 1.5x]
[Physical Displacement]
Daigan moved.
His hand lashed out like lightning, instantly grabbing the wrist holding the bottle and twisting it back.
*Crack!*
Before the sound of bone snapping could even spread, the broken bottle was smashed directly into the thug’s face, carving a deep, circular gash down to the bone!
Blood instantly gushed out.
“Argh!
Aaargh!”
Under extreme agony, the thug’s shriek echoed through the restaurant.
But Daigan wasn’t finished.
With a casual shove while holding the bottle, he sent the man flying several meters like a ragged sack, crashing through two tables.
“Ow…”
By the time the diners covered their heads and scrambled to their feet, they found themselves drenched in blood.
And in the broken bottle still in Daigan’s hand, half a chunk of flesh—a piece of nose still attached—was stuck inside.
“You—”
, The other thug wanted to say something, but was scared back by Daigan’s cold gaze.
The bloody chunk of flesh dripping from the bottle terrified him into shutting his mouth completely.
The entire restaurant fell dead silent.
At that moment, Daigan had just finished reading the food descriptions.
As if nothing had happened, he turned back to the counter and said:
“Give me this, this, and this.”
[Transaction Failed]
“Hmm?
What’s going on?
Transaction failed?”
Of course the transaction failed.
Looking at the terrified waitress, the blood splattered across the floor, and the thug wailing against the wall in the distance, the system spoke up:
[Friendly Tip: Host can try using the Title Interaction function.]
Daigan paused as a new option panel popped up in his vision.
[Identity Intimidation]
“Is it because I don’t have enough money?”
He had never bought luxury items other than radishes and cabbages, assuming his Mora was insufficient.
“You should raise the Mora cap, System.”
[Understood, Host.
Raising Mora limit…]
As Daigan spoke, he selected the [Identity Intimidation] option and spoke coldly.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it clearly echoed through the entire restaurant.
“I am the current Sixth of the Fatui Harbingers, codename: The Balladeer, Scaramouche.
If you don’t want to lose your jobs or end up in prison, hand over…
these desserts and their recipes!”
The ice-cold words sounded like a threat straight from the abyss.
The owner, the waitress, the chef—everyone was terrified beyond belief.
Although they didn’t quite believe his identity, they had witnessed his strength and ruthless cruelty with their own eyes.
In the end, Snezhnaya’s patrol squad arrived.
The officer leading them saw Daigan’s blood-stained but clearly recognizable Harbinger mantle and insignia.
“My apologies, sir!
It is our negligence in management!”
As the patrol team apologized to Daigan, the restaurant owner’s face turned ash-gray.
Daigan didn’t pay the slightest attention to them.
In the back kitchen, under Daigan’s astonishing talent for learning, the chef went from trembling in fear to standing slack-jawed.
In less than ten minutes, this man had mastered all the restaurant’s signature dishes, making them even better than he did!
As the waitress plated the freshly baked cakes, she suddenly asked, “Lord Harbinger, are you packing so many portions to give as a gift?”
“Mm.”
…
“Lord Harbinger, please take care!”
The waitress tremblingly handed the packaged portions of freshly made Sea Salt Caramel Tempest Cheesecake to Daigan.
“Thank you.”
Daigan accepted the items, turned, and walked out of the restaurant, as though the ruthless man from earlier had not been him.
Only after his figure disappeared around the street corner did terrified screams erupt inside the restaurant.
“The Sixth Seat…
That Harbinger codenamed Scaramouche came into a restaurant to buy food, didn’t pay a single cent, beat people up, and stole our recipes!”
…
Status Update:
– Daigan: Inventory Item [Sea Salt Caramel Tempest Cheesecake × 3]
– Sandrone: About to receive a gift “full of sincerity.”
– A restaurant in Snezhnaya City: Added to the “Refuse Service to Harbingers” blacklist.
…
On the way to Sandrone’s workshop—a journey of roughly several hours—the system didn’t say a word, though for Daigan it felt like only a few minutes.
Daigan was a high-energy lifeform it had watched grow up.
It first nourished his physical body with energy, waiting until the body reached its limit before storing energy within it.
Such a body and energy reserve were top-tier among those of the same rank.
With the system present, even if that wine bottle had actually been stabbed into Daigan’s eye back then, it would have shattered like tofu hitting iron.
Under cognitive perception, Daigan couldn’t see it in his vision, nor would he care.
Once he finished reading the menu, he would order, and everyone would assume he was backing down and fleeing.
No one knew, and no one cared.
In terms of efficiency, that would have been the best outcome.
[But that would be way too embarrassing…]
So it had stepped in.