Evening shadows stretched across Mondstadt's cobblestone streets, the golden hues of sunset fading into a twilight purple as a cool breeze swept down from the cliffs, rustling the dandelions that clung to the city's ancient walls, their delicate seeds swirling like tiny stars in the dimming light. Galehaven Comics stood quiet in its alley nook, its weathered sign still, its wooden facade bathed in lantern glow, the day's bustle fading into a hush, the faint scent of ink lingering in the air like a whisper of its magic.
Harlan Flint sat behind the counter, his dark jacket slung over a chair, his hazel eyes glinting with a shopkeeper's quiet triumph as he summoned the system panel, its ethereal glow flaring in his mind. "Thirty customers, finally," he murmured, his voice a soft exhale, two days of effort crowned by an Abyss Mage's late visit, a quirky twist that tipped the scales.
"Task two done," Harlan thought, his grin widening, "System, draw the reward." His command was firm, his pulse quickening, the promise of power a lure he'd chased since crossing into Teyvat's wild embrace.
The system hummed, "Drawing now," it chimed, "Extracted: Fantasy Killer," it announced, a spark of lore from another world igniting in his grasp. "Nullifies any supernatural force, good or evil," the note read, "Elemental powers too," it added, Harlan's eyes flashing with intrigue, a tool to reshape Teyvat's balance.
"Kamijou's trick," Harlan mused, his grin sly, recalling Academy City's unlucky hero, a right hand that shattered magic and might with a touch. "God's Eye, Evil Eye, gone," he thought, "Seven Gods too?" his hazel eyes glinted, Venti's wind a test he'd ponder come dawn.
He flexed his hand, "Ordinary foes still stand," he noted, swordmasters and brutes beyond its reach, his armed Haki a shield for those gaps. "No worries now," Harlan chuckled, "Domination and negation, perfect pair," his confidence a flame, Teyvat's chaos his playground to tame.
The panel shifted, "Task two reset, one hundred now," it glowed, Harlan's brow lifting at the leap from thirty, a challenge he'd meet with ease. "Two days for thirty, a week for this," he calculated, his hazel eyes steady, Galehaven's pull a tide he'd ride with flair.
He hung a closed sign, its wood creaking as it swayed, his boots scuffing the floor as he tallied the day, eleven morning souls, thirteen afternoon, twenty-four total. "Two point four million Mora," Harlan whistled, "Doubled yesterday," his grin wide, Mondstadt's richest crown a prize he'd soon claim.
The system flared, "Day's end, draw a comic reward," it prompted, Harlan's hazel eyes dancing, two gifts in a night a thrill he'd savor. "Yesterday, power," he thought, "Today, variety," his mind shifting, safety secured, curiosity now his guide.
Seven comics lined his shelves, "One Piece, Sakura, Digimon, Love, Yu-Gi-Oh, Little Master, Brave Man," he listed, his finger tapping the counter. "Love's dull," he dismissed, "Little Master shines," he decided, Sarah's golden rice a lure, a dish to craft and taste himself.
"System, draw from Little Master," Harlan commanded, his voice firm, his pulse quickening with a chef's eager spark. "Extracting now," it hummed, "Reward: Liu Maoxing's Super Chef Skills," it chimed, Harlan's eyes widening, a jackpot beyond his wildest hope.
"All his mastery," Harlan gasped, "Not just a dish, the whole craft!" His grin split wide, "Five Mora wished, five thousand gained," he laughed, his super chef soul alight with glee. "European luck," he thought, "Haki first, now this," his hazel eyes glinting, fortune a wind at his back.
"Claim it," Harlan ordered, his voice a rush, the system glowing as light enveloped him, a torrent of knowledge flooding his mind. His hands flexed, "Every skill, every glow," he murmured, recipes dancing, his fingers nimble, ready to weave culinary magic from any scrap.
He inhaled, "Mapo's old news," he thought, "No ingredients here," his gaze drifting to the bare shelves, a chef's itch he'd scratch elsewhere. "Deer Hunter's stock," Harlan decided, "Sarah's rice too," his boots clicking as he locked up, Mondstadt's night his stage to roam.
The streets buzzed, lanterns flickering as merchants packed stalls, bards strummed, townsfolk chattered of golden rice, its fame a beacon Harlan followed. Deer Hunter loomed, its wooden sign aglow, its open patio alive with clinking plates, the scent of roast and spice a siren's call he'd heed.
Sarah bustled within, her apron dusted with flour, her blonde hair tied back, her green eyes sharp as she plated a dish, its golden sheen a marvel that hushed the crowd. "Boss Harlan!" she called, "Taste my prize?" her voice bright, her hands offering a bowl, steam curling from its radiant grains.
Harlan took it, "Impressive," he said, his hazel eyes glinting as he scooped a bite, the flavor bursting, rich and warm, a glow that rivaled dawn. "Solid craft," he nodded, "Mine's next," he thought, his super chef soul itching to outshine, a friendly duel he'd spark.
A shout pierced the hum, "Thieves!" a patron cried, shadows darting from the kitchen, sacks bulging with loot, their cloaks flapping as they bolted. Harlan dropped the bowl, "Not tonight," he growled, his boots pounding, Haki flaring, Fantasy Killer a pulse in his right hand.
Sarah gasped, "Stop them!" her voice sharp, her hands clutching a ladle, the crowd scattering as Harlan charged, his hazel eyes locked on the fleeing trio. One turned, "Elemental burst!" he snarled, a Geo wave rippling, rocks spiking toward Harlan's chest.
Harlan thrust his hand, "Fantasy Killer," he muttered, the wave dissolving, the thief's eyes widening as his power faded, a mortal stumble in his wake. Haki surged, "Armed strike!" Harlan roared, his fist blackening, a blow crashing the thief into a stall, wood splintering, the crowd gasping.
The second spun, "Pyro slash!" flames arced, a blade of fire slicing the air, its heat singeing Harlan's jacket. He dodged, "Nullify," his right hand swiped, the fire winking out, the thief's blade dull, Haki slamming him down, cobblestones cracking under the force.
The third leapt, "Anemo gust!" wind howled, a vortex swirling, lifting crates in a chaotic dance toward Harlan's frame. "Enough," Harlan snapped, his hand piercing the gale, winds dying, Haki's punch grounding the thief, his sack spilling, ingredients rolling free.
Sarah rushed up, "You're safe!" she panted, her green eyes wide, the crowd cheering, "Harlan's a hero!" their voices a tide. He grinned, "Just testing," he lied, his hazel eyes glinting, Haki and Killer a duo he'd wield with flair, the fight a thrill he'd savor.
"Stock's yours," Sarah said, "Take what you need," her voice warm, her hands piling meat, eggs, flour into his arms. Harlan nodded, "Cooking soon," he promised, his super chef soul alight, a feast to rival her rice a spark he'd kindle back at Galehaven.
He returned, the shop dark, its lantern flickering as he unloaded, his hands swift, Liu Maoxing's mastery guiding each cut, each stir. "Golden dumplings," he murmured, dough glowing, filling sizzling, a dish born of ink and skill, its aroma flooding the alley, a lure for dawn's crowd.
Venti slipped in, "Smells divine!" he chirped, his green cape fluttering, his Anemo Vision glinting as he sniffed. "Test it tomorrow," Harlan teased, "Godly challenge," his hazel eyes glinting, Fantasy Killer a secret he'd spring on the bard.
"Deal," Venti grinned, "Food and duels," his voice a melody, the night alive with Mondstadt's pulse, Galehaven's glow a beacon of power and taste. Harlan leaned back, "Teyvat's mine," he thought, his grin wide, ink, steel, and spice his tools to rule the tale.
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