Void Lord: My Revenge Is My Harem

Chapter 232 : Opening Shop and Increasing Harem Members XV

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Edda let out a soft sound, half approval, half warning. "Good. Do not sell thunder to stupid rich children."

Kel nodded solemnly. "Yes. Only sell thunder to adults with written permission and a down payment."

Fizz popped up between them. "Everyone calm. We will sell practical things. John loves practical things. He is the kind of man who would marry a broom if it swept well."

Orna coughed to hide a laugh.

John gave Fizz a look that could have peeled paint. "I will throw you."

Fizz hovered smugly. "You cannot throw me. I am spiritually aerodynamic."

Gael’s tone stayed steady. "How much coin do you have for starting stock."

John hesitated, then answered truthfully. "Not enough."

Gael nodded once. "Fine. We start with labor. Labor is the cheapest thing we own because it is ours."

Orna cracked her knuckles. "I can start tonight."

Kel leaned over the table, peering at the rune channels. "I can start tomorrow. Tonight I must recover from the shock of being in a building that has corners and no goats."

Edda stepped aside, pulling her pack forward. "Before we discuss schedules," she said, "you should read the letter properly, because it will make you feel like you have a spine even if you forget you do."

She pulled out John’s letter, held it up for Gael to see again. Gael did not take it right away. He looked at John first, checking the boy’s eyes for the kind of change that meant trouble.

John met his gaze and held it. "It’s me," he said quietly. "Still me."

Gael took the letter then, open it with a thumb that had split nails from years of heat, and read. His eyes moved slowly, not because he was slow, but because he respected words that arrived after months of silence.

Kel leaned over Orna’s shoulder like a child trying to peek at a present. Orna elbowed him gently in the ribs. Kel made a soft "oof" and pretended it was spiritual damage.

As Gael read, the room settled into something warmer. This wasn’t just a meeting. This was the moment a scattered group became a thing again.

When Gael finished, he folded the letter and tucked it into his shirt like a vow he did not want to drop.

"You asked three to come," Gael said. "I chose well. Me and Orna, because she can move a forge with me and a funny one for customer interaction. It’s Kel, because..." He paused, eyes flicking to Kel. "...because laughter is sometimes the only way a man survives the capital without stabbing a tax officer."

Kel placed a hand over his heart. "That is the nicest insult anyone has ever given me."

Orna crossed her arms. "And the other seven were..."

"In the village," Gael said. "They hold the base. They keep making weapons. They keep the mist respected. They keep the name clean. We brought all the finished production with us. It will bring us coins soon."

John nodded. Relief moved through him like water through dry soil. "Good."

Edda stepped closer. "Also," she added casually, like she was discussing bread, "if anyone thinks to mess with the village while you are here, I will return and teach them new uses for their teeth."

Gael sighed. "We do not torture everyone who annoys us."

Edda blinked, innocent. "Of course not. Only the ones who deserve education."

John decided not to comment, because the more you commented, the more Edda treated it like permission.

Fizz floated onto Gael’s shoulder like a royal bird claiming a new statue. "Now," Fizz declared, "tell me you brought snacks."

Orna reached into her pack and pulled out a small wrapped bundle. "Dried honey bread," she said. "For the road. We didn’t eat it because Kel said it was ’more valuable as an emergency happiness item.’"

Kel nodded. "Happiness is a resource."

Fizz snatched it, tore it open, inhaled the scent, and sighed like a man seeing heaven. "Finally. Civilization."

John watched them with a faint smile that he did not mean to show. It happened anyway.

Gael turned toward the front again, already working in his head. "We need a sign."

Fizz immediately raised both paws. "Yes. Huge. Golden. With my face."

"No," John said.

Fizz pouted. "At least my name."

"That is already the name," John said.

"Then large letters," Fizz insisted. "So the city cannot pretend it did not see me."

Gael rubbed his jaw. "A simple sign. Fizz Holdings. Smithing and Repairs. No mention of... special crafts."

Orna nodded. "A quiet shop looks harmless. Harmless shops survive longer."

Edda tilted her head, eyes bright. "And harmless shops make the best traps."

John pointed at her. "No traps."

Edda smiled sweetly. "No traps unless necessary."

"No traps at all," John repeated.

Fizz leaned into John’s ear and whispered loudly, "We can still trap customers emotionally with excellent service."

"Stop," John said.

They moved back to the front. Gael immediately began measuring shelf space with his eyes. Orna walked the floor, checking for any wobble, already deciding where the anvil should live. Kel hopped behind the counter and leaned on it like he owned the place, then winced when the fresh wood pressed a splinter into his palm.

"I have been attacked," Kel announced. "This counter is hostile."

Fizz floated behind him. "The counter senses laziness."

Kel glared. "I am not lazy. I am strategically resting."

John opened the ledger and set it where Gael could reach it. "We will track every coin," he said. "We will not become sloppy."

Gael’s eyes softened a fraction. "Good."

There was a moment then, quiet, where John realized the shop no longer felt like an empty room waiting for a purpose. It now felt like a living plan. The air had people in it. The corners had names.

Orna turned to John. "Where do we sleep."

John pointed toward the house area. "Back rooms. Two small rooms and one larger. I can take the small one. You three take the larger for now. We will adjust when we have beds and senses."

Kel brightened. "A larger room. Excellent. I will take the corner farthest from Fizz because he talks in his sleep."