Kaidros sighed deeply. "Well, my sons, there's nothing more your dad can do. Maybe… just maybe… you can talk to the shop owner."
The moment those words left his lips, Drakion's head shot up. Elemarion's followed. The old man's heart skipped a beat. A bad feeling coiled in his chest, ringing like a silent alarm.
"Grandpa…" Drakion called out sweetly, his voice childish and impossibly cute—enough to melt the stoniest heart. Tears shimmered in his eyes, sliding slowly down his cheeks. His golden eyes sparkled, amplifying his innocent charm.
"Can we take everything here?" he asked, staring at the old man with wide, puppy-dog eyes.
"You can only take them… if you pay," the old man blurted out hastily, instincts flaring like fire.
"Can't we take them for free?" Drakion's voice echoed again—innocent, pleading, soft like wind brushing silk—yet it thundered in the old man's ears like the roar of an angry beast.
COUGH! COUGH!
