He pushed through the final layer of onlookers, approaching the baron.
"Is he yours?" Noah pointed at Kip, keeping his voice level.
Kip's eyes widened with desperate hope. His mouth opened—
Noah shot him a sharp glare.
The boy's expression shifted to understanding. Whatever fragile trust existed between them, Kip grasped the importance of playing along.
Baron Richard's gaze travelled up and down Noah, taking in the foreign clothes with obvious disdain.
"Yes, he's mine," the baron replied slowly. "Though I've never seen you before. Strange clothes."
I really need to buy some local clothing, but that's for another time.
"Irrelevant." Noah reached for his coin pouch. "How much?"
The baron's eyebrows climbed toward his receding hairline. "You want to buy him?"
"Yes. And you mentioned a sister? I want her too."
Interest sparked in Richard's beady eyes, he had the look of a merchant scenting profit. He stroked his multiple chins thoughtfully.
"I don't know where his sister is hiding. The little wretch escaped three days ago."
"But she remains my property. If you purchase her, you'll need to locate her yourself."
"No problem." Noah nodded curtly.
Noah calculated quickly—expensive, but manageable given his daily income. Despite not knowing Kip and the fact that the kid tried to steal from him, Noah still felt like he could help.
He knew that he wouldn't abolish slavery in this place, or buy every single slave and free them. Still, he wanted to help Kip and his sister.
Something about the kid fighting for himself and his sister resonated with Noah. He reminded him of himself when his dad was hospitalised.
The baron's eyes raised, before his expression turned into a smirk.
Shit. I made a mistake. Now he thinks I have money to burn.
Noah did not haggle with the baron over the price.
"For one of them, that is." Richard's smile turned predatory. "For both slaves, it's ten gold coins."
Noah's eyes narrowed.
The baron was openly extorting him, banking on Noah's obvious desire to help.
Noah pulled out his pouch, counting the required amount.
Each coin clinked against the next.
Baron Richard's fat fingers closed around the gold with obvious satisfaction. "Pleasure doing business. The boy is yours."
The servant released Kip's shoulder, shoving him toward Noah with unnecessary force. The cat-boy stumbled but didn't fall, yellow eyes fixed on his unexpected savior.
Noah grasped Kip's bound hands, feeling the rope cuts on small wrists.
"Come on," he said quietly, guiding the boy away from the crowd.
Behind them, Baron Richard's laughter could be heard across the plaza.
After all, he had made ten times the profit from that sale. He had bought the siblings for a mere golden coin and sold them for ten.
The crowd dispersed as the entertainment ended, returning to their daily routines as if nothing significant had occurred.
They reached his shop alleyway before Noah finally spoke.
"Are you hurt?" His voice came out rougher than intended.
Kip looked up, confusion and gratitude warring in his expression. "You... you bought me. What do you want me to do now?"
The question hit Noah like a punch to the gut. Of course he thinks I want something. That's how his world works.
Noah ruffled the cat-boy's head, feeling the soft fur between his ears. "I didn't buy you, I paid for your freedom. I don't want anything from you. You can do what you want."
Kip's yellow-green eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Really?"
Noah nodded with a smile. "Really."
"So... I can go now?"
There it is. Noah's mouth twitched. The little cat-boy's first instinct was always flight. Freedom meant running, apparently.
"Yes, you can leave. Bu—"
Before Noah could finish his sentence, Kip had already transformed into a black blur. His small feet pattered against the cobblestones in rapid-fire succession.
"Wait, I was going to say—" Noah called after the disappearing figure.
Kip vanished around the corner like smoke.
Noah stood alone in the alleyway, one hand still raised mid-gesture. "This little cat..."
Give him healing bread? He runs.
Give him freedom? He runs.
I'm starting to see a pattern here.
He shrugged it off and headed back to his shop. The encounter with Baron Richard had soured his mood for city exploration. Ten gold coins—while absolutely worth it—still stung his entrepreneur's soul.
That's three days of bread sales. Gone in thirty seconds.
Inside his shop, Noah settled onto his rickety stool and pulled up his status screen.
Daily Revenue: $1,300
Current Assets: $1700.42
Attributes: Strength: 4, Vitality: 4, Intelligence: 7, Agility: 3
Skills: Programming (Level 2), Finance (Level 1), Surviving on Ramen (Level 3)
Previously, he'd had $2,700.
The income came from his recent sales and daily revenue accumulation. Now it was reduced to $1,700.
A thousand dollars to free a cat-boy. The most expensive good deed of my life.
But staring at the numbers, Noah found he didn't regret it. Money was renewable—his daily income would restore those funds within days. Kip's freedom, however, had been a one-time opportunity.
Besides, knowing that little furball is running free instead of cowering in a slave pen? Totally worth it.
Even if the ungrateful little beast didn't stick around to say thank you.
Meanwhile, in the depths of Esta's forgotten corners...
Kip's small feet carried him through small passages and crumbling archways, past the places where even beggars feared to tread.
His heart hammered against his ribs, not from exertion, but from pure, overwhelming joy.
Free. We're actually free!
The abandoned district appeared before him, a graveyard of broken dreams and rotting timber.
Here, among the skeletal remains of abandoned people, the poor quarter , his sister waited.
He found her in their usual hiding spot, a narrow alley, forgotten by the world.
The space was smaller than Noah's shop, darker than his own alleyway, and infinitely more desperate.
Kip burst into their makeshift shelter, tears streaming down his furred cheeks.
His sister looked up from where she sat propped against a mouldy wall.
At sixteen, Alissa shared his cat-like features but carried herself like someone forced to grow up too fast.
Her silver ears twitched at his approach, concern flooding her golden eyes.
"Kip? What happened?" She struggled to sit straighter, still weak despite the magical bread's effects.
The half-eaten loaf rested beside her—their most precious possession, consumed in tiny portions to maximise its healing properties and because they had no money to buy food.
Every crumb represented hope.
They carefully rationed it like liquid gold.
"We're free!" The words exploded from Kip's mouth in a rush of excitement and disbelief. "Sister, we're actually free!"
Alissa's ears flattened.
Free? That's impossible. We're slaves.
"What are you talking about?"
Kip collapsed beside her, his small hands gesturing wildly as words tumbled over each other.
"The man who gave us the bread, he found me! Baron Richard caught me at the plaza, but the man appeared and bought our freedom!"
Alissa's expression darkened.
"Someone purchased you as a slave?"
"No, no!" Kip shook his head frantically.
"He bought me from the Baron, but then he said I was free! Actually free! He didn't want anything from me!"
Alissa stared at her brother, searching his face for deception or delusion. But Kip's eyes blazed with unmistakable truth.
Someone... freed us? Just like that?
"He spent ten gold coins," Kip continued, his voice dropping to an awed whisper. "Ten whole gold coins for both of us, even though he doesn't know where you are."
Alissa's breath caught. Ten gold coins represented more wealth than their family had seen in their entire lives. For a stranger to spend such a fortune on two runaway beast-kin...
It's impossible. People don't do that.
"Do you know where our benefactor lives?" she asked quietly.
Kip's ears drooped. "I... I ran away right after."
"You what?" Alissa's voice sharpened. "How did you not ask him for anything? How can we thank our benefactor? Is that what I taught you?"
The young cat-boy's head hung in shame. "Sorry, I was just excited to let you know."
Of course, he ran. Alissa sighed, pulling her brother into a gentle embrace. He's still just a child, despite everything we've been through.
"Alright, it's okay, Kip." She stroked his black ears, feeling him relax against her. "I understand."
Someone had freely given them something beyond price, their lives.
Such generosity demanded acknowledgement, gratitude, and proper respect.
Mother always said debts of kindness were the most sacred.
"Do you know his name at least?"
"His name is Noah!" Kip perked up, relieved to have at least one useful detail.
Noah. Alissa committed the name to memory. Our saviour is named Noah.
She stared at the magical bread beside her—the first gift from this mysterious benefactor. Its healing properties had literally saved her life, and now he'd saved both their lives again.
How do you repay someone who asks for nothing in return?
"Kip," she said softly, "we need to find this benefactor Noah. We're going to thank him properly."
'Noah,' Alissa thought, testing the name on her lips before a soft smile broke out.