Chapter 9: The Lakan's Proposition
Her smile, when it came, could have outshone the sun. This, I thought, was much better than just making money. This was building something.
The Sarimanook market was slipping into that golden, late-afternoon rhythm—the hour when lanterns start to glow and vendors begin to pack their wares. A warm sea breeze whispered through the narrow stalls, carrying with it the salty tang of the ocean and the comforting smoke of grilled fish. Somewhere in the distance, a horn signaled the last fishing boat returning to the docks, and the cries of seabirds circled above like gossiping uncles.
Marikit was practically vibrating beside me, both hands clutching the two Pilak coins I'd paid her like she'd just been handed the One Ring.
"Two Pilak, Kuya Pepito!" she kept repeating, her voice high on glee and capitalism. "Mama's gonna be happy! We can buy meat! Actual meat!"
"You earned every single Tanso, partner," I said, ruffling her hair. Her curls were damp from the lingering humidity, and a faint sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. "Now let's get you—"
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"Excuse me."
The voice, cool and clear like wind chimes on a cathedral balcony, sliced through the buzz of the market. We turned.
A woman stood there, tall and radiant. Gorgeous was putting it mildly—she looked like someone who ran a billion-Ginto empire and personally styled her own campaign posters. CEO energy. Elven queen attitude. And she probably moisturized with moonlight.
My brain unplugged. Rebooted. Installed extra RAM just to process her cheekbones.
"Yes, you," she said, her calm, intelligent eyes pinning me like a butterfly. "You're the merchant Pepito? The one selling those remarkable 'Pocket Infernos,' I presume?"
"That's me," I said, springing to my feet like I hadn't been low-key loitering. Marikit straightened too, instinctively sensing important adult alert. "I'm afraid I'm sold out for today, though," I added. "The fire gods have clocked out."
"I'm not here to buy a lighter." Her lips curled into a smile that was both polite and professionally sharp. "I wanted to speak with you directly." She offered a poised, elegant bow. "My name is Susan Sumilang. I am the Lakan of this town."
Error 404: Mayor Not Found.
This was the Lakan?
I'd expected someone older, maybe carrying a clipboard and wearing crocs. Not… this goddess in government.
"So, uh…" I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling underdressed in my simple tunic, damp with sweat and salt. "What business brings you to my humble patch of blanket, Lakan Susan?"
"Well, Mr. Pepito," she said, her voice wrapped in velvet and diplomacy, "your presence has brought a surprising amount of life to Sarimanook."
"Oh, not at all, Lakan," I said, dialing up the humility. "Where I'm from, setting up shop requires a full-blown ritual, three IDs, and possibly a goat. Your town? Straight-up delightful. Ten out of ten, would sell here again."
She gave the tiniest blink—a micro-expression of someone recalibrating to very unexpected energy. "Most traveling merchants are… not this humble."
"Then I guess I'm just built different." (Spoiler: I'm not. I just knew better than to sass someone with both that much power and that kind of bone structure.)
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"That brings me to the reason I sought you out," she said. "Here." She held out a small, bronze key. It was ornate and old, the kind of key you'd expect to unlock secret passageways or cursed family heirlooms. It felt heavy and cool in my palm—faintly metallic, but tinged with something ancient. Like salt and secrets.
"A key?" I asked. "Please tell me this opens a dragon vault."
"It's to a property," she replied, completely unfazed. "My family's former residence."
Hard stop. Brain: buffering. Plot twist loading.
"W-wait—like, a house house?"
"Yes." She was all calm professionalism, but I swear I could see a glint of amusement in her eyes. She was enjoying how hard my circuits were frying. "I'd like you to move your business there."
"Wait wait wait… live there? Like… me? In an actual shop? With walls?"
She nodded. "It's located at the back end of the marketplace. Two floors. The ground floor was once a general store. It's yours until the end of the month—rent-free. A trial period."
I blinked. Once. Twice.
And that's when Marikit, my tiny agent of chaos, opened her mouth.
---
"Ahhhh! I knew it!" she squealed, pointing a finger at the Lakan. "You want Kuya Pepito to come live with you, don't you!?"
"What!?" Lakan Susan choked out, her professional composure shattering into a million pieces. A furious blush bloomed across her cheeks—so red it could have powered a furnace. Even the sea breeze hesitated for a second, like it wanted in on the drama.
"Yup!" Marie went full telenovela. "You wanna marry him! Then he can be your husband, and he'll make Pocket Inferno forever, and you'll rule the market as king and queen!"
I swear, I almost passed out from sheer secondhand embarrassment. Lakan Susan looked like her entire operating system had just crashed.
"I—absolutely not!" she sputtered, utterly scandalized. "Just because I'm single does not mean I am shopping for suitors in the vendor aisle!"
Mentally, I was halfway to printing the wedding invitations. But out loud, I said, "Wow. That's the fastest I've ever been rejected by a public official."
"Mr. Pepito!" she gasped, her voice going full soprano.
I held up my hands. "Kidding! Kidding. Let's circle back to the part where you gave me a house."
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She took a deep breath, straightened her robes, and willed her composure back into existence, though the blush remained.
"As I was saying: the shop is yours temporarily. I believe your stall caused a bit of a traffic jam today. Some of the other vendors… were less than thrilled."
I winced. "Yeah, that tracks. I went full main-character mode. Rookie mistake."
"If you move to the shop," she continued, "you'll still get foot traffic—without clogging the arteries of the market." She sighed. "Think of it as crowd control… with benefits."
"No rent?" I asked. "Not even a 'handsome stranger' tax?"
"Just your cooperation."
Hot dang. In Metro Manila, a place like that would cost you your soul and half your lifespan. Lakan Susan wasn't just gorgeous—she was efficient, strategic, and dangerously generous. I wasn't sure if I'd just been given a business opportunity… or if I'd accidentally accepted a major side quest.
"Deal," I said, pocketing the heavy bronze key. "Let's light this town up."