WFLRN 36

Chapter 36

“What on earth is going on here!”

Valdini erupted in anger when he found the shop—normally bustling at this hour—deserted, with nothing but flies buzzing around.

“Uh, th-that is…”

Charles, his face still bruised from the beating Peter had given him, trembled in fear.

On display before him were tarts in complete disarray.

Some were burnt black and charred, others undercooked and mushy. Not a single one had been sold.

With alimony and child support payments crushing him, Charles had no choice but to find a way to make money.

So he tried baking tarts himself using the recipe book Kate had left behind.

He sacrificed sleep, kneading dough, whipping cream, even burning his hands on the oven—but he simply couldn’t recreate the flavor.

Customers, realizing this, quickly stopped coming until eventually not a single soul set foot in the shop.

“I even cut your rent in half, and this is the result?”

A blue gleam flashed across Valdini’s eyes. His gaze, blazing with fury, refused to cool.

He was in a foul mood.

Earlier, he had secretly stolen a glance at the monthly financial report of The Line that had been presented to his mother.

Naturally, each sibling only knew the sales figures of their own district.

But Valdini, anxious after noticing the sudden surge in Second’s customers over the past month, had stolen a look at the report.

The result had been devastating.

While his own sales had dropped by 30% compared to the previous month, Second’s had skyrocketed by 300%.

What’s more, Second’s total revenue was nearly on par with First’s.

All because of that coconut chip nonsense and that so-called “Life Café.”

And now, even First’s most popular tart shop was collapsing. No wonder Valdini was livid.

“I-It’s not my fault! As you know, it’s because of the new tart shop that opened in Second!”

Charles cried out, his voice trembling yet desperate.

The scandal of his divorce had been such gossip in the southern domain that everyone knew about it already.

Valdini frowned, gesturing with his chin for Charles to continue.

“That wicked woman who used to be my wife betrayed me and opened a tart shop in Second! Using my recipes, no less!”

“Your recipes?”

Valdini’s eyes gleamed dangerously.

“Y-Yes! Surely this is illegal, isn’t it? Like leaking trade secrets or something!”

Charles shouted, stringing together half-baked bits of knowledge like a man grasping at straws.

Of course, it was a lie.

Kate was the one who had written the recipe book, who had captured the capital’s palate, and was now winning hearts even in the south.

But it wasn’t entirely false either.

Since the recipe book had been created in this very shop, Charles—its owner—could technically claim it as his.

“So she’s stolen your recipes and built her business on them, has she?”

Valdini’s eyes glimmered with sinister intent.

“Y-Yes, exactly!”

“Thieves, the lot of them.”

“……”

Charles swallowed hard, his face pale. The low, dangerous tone filling the shabby shop made it clear that something terrible was about to happen.

“Then it’s only right we teach them what happens to thieves. You—come with me.”

With heavy strides, Valdini left the shop. Charles followed nervously, his unease growing.

“Is this right? Ughhh!”

“No, you’re supposed to hold here—ugh, no, not like that—blegh!”

Ron and Bendia gagged in unison, their eyes watering.

“Waaaaah! Waaaaah!”

Before them, a baby flailed its tiny hands and feet, wailing loudly.

The two were in the small room behind the tart shop.

Still, I’m worried. The babysitter was sick today, so she couldn’t watch Regen. Kate said it’d be fine to carry him around while she worked, but that must be exhausting…

Hearing this news from Yulize, who had also reported the latest rise in sales, gave Bendia what she thought was a clever idea.

She hired Ron as a temporary babysitter—though he had insisted on the absurd condition that he wouldn’t show his face.

Of course, she had planned to leave him alone with the baby, but he had caught her before she could sneak away.

“Do you trust me?”

That terrifying line had frozen her in her tracks. Leaving Ron alone with a baby was far too dangerous.

Her plan to make him suffer had backfired, trapping her as well.

And sure enough, trouble struck the moment they started looking after Regen.

“Ughhh…”

“Man, how can such a tiny thing poop this much?”

Ron grimaced, struggling not to gag.

When they finally unwrapped Regen’s cloth diaper, a dizzying sight of brown spread before them. The stench was even worse than before.

“Open the window! Quick!”

Ron shouted like it was an emergency.

Bendia rushed to obey—she was struggling just as much.

“Waaaaah! Waaaaah!”

Regen’s cries only grew louder. They had to finish quickly and change his diaper.

“What are you waiting for? Wipe him down already!”

“You want me to do it? You do it.”

“You’re the one on duty today, mister tenant. If you can’t even do this, what can you do?”

Her words struck a nerve. Clicking his tongue, Ron reluctantly turned back to the baby.

The little one kept flailing, crying nonstop. Feeling guilty, Ron tentatively reached out his hand—then froze.

His hands looked enormous compared to the baby’s legs.

“Forget it. I’ll break him.”

“Just lift his legs a little, that’s all.”

“Easy for you to say! You try it!”

“Waaaaah!”

Snapping at Bendia only made Regen cry harder.

“Hey, hey! Don’t cry…”

Ron broke into a cold sweat. This was, without doubt, the most flustered moment of his life.

“Hurry up! He’ll get dehydrated!”

Bendia jingled a rattle over Regen’s face to distract him.

“Damn it…”

With no other choice, Ron carefully moved his hand again.

Tap.

He pinched Regen’s tiny feet ever so gently between his fingers.

They were so soft, so delicate—it felt strange.

“Are you sure he even has bones?”

“Of course he does! Just lift both legs together and wipe.”

Bendia instructed, recalling what she’d seen married friends do with their babies.

Hands trembling, Ron finally managed to hold both of Regen’s legs.

“His toes are smaller than my fingernail…”

He muttered, his expression indescribable, as though he’d forgotten the stench.

Bendia smirked and handed him a cloth.

It took some time, but eventually they cleaned him, disposed of the soiled diaper, and fastened on a fresh one.

“Phew…”

Bendia collapsed onto the floor, drained from the ordeal.

Regen, now comfortable, had fallen sound asleep.

“You can rest now.”

“If I move, he’ll wake up.”

Indeed, Ron hadn’t budged.

Regen’s tiny hand was clutching tightly onto Ron’s index finger.

Ron sat frozen, hardly daring to breathe.

It was surprisingly unexpected.

She’d thought he’d storm off in anger, refusing to do anything—but he’d actually followed through.

Now, after the storm had passed, Bendia leaned against the wall, exhausted, simply watching him.

With his mouth shut, his face really did look good.

Maybe his grandfather was right—he could probably live off his looks alone.

KRAAASH!

A deafening crash shook the building.

“Kyaaa!”

“W-What are you doing?!”

Screams rang out, followed by Kate’s startled voice.

“Waaahhh!”

Recognizing his mother’s voice, Regen awoke and began crying again.

“What the hell!”

Ron snapped in genuine frustration at the baby’s renewed wailing. Bendia quickly got to her feet.

“Hold him and calm him down—I’ll go check outside.”

“Hey, wait—!”

Ignoring Ron’s desperate call, she stepped out of the room.

She had a pretty good idea what it was.

And she was right. Entering the shop through the back door, she was met with chaos.

Gregory, in a police uniform, was overturning the place.

Behind him, Charles stood trembling, at a complete loss.

And then—

“Thieves must be punished.”

It was Valdini again.