Open Book [Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader]

ii. interesting customers

With the rain cleared up and the skies cloudless and sunny, your store was busy. The mafia auction had brought in all sorts of newcomers in town, most of them small fry not worth your time. You should have been pleased at the business, at making money, but your mood was soured.

Last night, the auction had purportedly been robbed. It wasn't confirmed yet, but you knew full well who was behind the heist, confirming your suspicions and fears. The Phantom Troupe was in York New City. With this new information, and the constant whispers of your customers discussing the event, you couldn't help the agitation that set in your veins. Part of it was just the fact that the Troupe was here. The other part, annoyingly enough, was that that meant he was here, and hadn't sought you out yet. You weren't sure if you should be relieved or upset, and this caused you to be snippy all day with everybody.

Hearing your name get called, your gaze flickered to the door, seeing a familiar face among all of your newer customers. You gave him a dry smile.

"Zepile. I haven't gotten any specially made items for you, if that's what you're after," you said immediately, careful with your wording considering a majority of people didn't know about nen. Seeing he was accompanied by others, a rare sight within itself, you raised an eyebrow. ". . . Who are they?"

The man in front of you took note of your expression. "Man, you sure are in a bad mood today. What happened?"

With the rush hour dying down, leaving only a couple other customers save for Zepile and his entourage of three, you couldn't avoid the conversation. Don't get it wrong, you enjoyed talking to Zepile, but you were in a bad mood today. Certainly not in a mood to socialize.

"It's nothing," you responded after a moment. "Anyways, if you're not here to buy, what are you doing?"

Zepile gestured to the two kids he had with him. Was he babysitting? You allowed yourself to take them in in more detail. One kid was looking around the shop with wide, brown eyes, his green hair standing straight up and his clothes offending your sensibilities. Next to him was the other kid, seeming more bored than anything, with fluffy white hair and upturned blue eyes. You sort of wanted to see how soft his hair was. The last newcomer was a taller man, probably around your age, in a business suit with small glasses. A peculiar bunch - where did Zepile pick these people up?

"We actually are here to sell stuff."

That was a first, and you raised an eyebrow, eyes focusing on the bags in the kids' hands. "You? Sell?"

The brunet laughed. "They need money for the auction, and so I decide to take them to the best antique shop around."

Your smile was wry. "I'm flattered," you said flatly. "What do you plan on buying at the auction?"

The white haired kid spoke up before anybody else, his eyes narrowed suspiciously on your figure. "It's none of your business." His tone was decidedly unfriendly, and you snorted, not offended.

"If it's none of my business, then you don't get any of my business. Sell your shit elsewhere, kid."

The older man among them immediately whacked the kid, and the other kid apologized hastily. There was a genuine look in his eyes that made you stop for a moment and decide to hear them out.

"I'm trying to get Greed Island," he told you. You had heard of the game before, and you leaned against the counter, eyes turning upward in thought. That was certainly going to be a lot of jenny, especially since the copies were limited. Why did they want to get Greed Island, though? You had met its creator - you weren't about to break it to the kids, but not only was the game a sham in a way, the guy who created it was one of the biggest assholes you had ever met.