The Second Chance of Reincarnator

"Is everything alright?"

Aren took off his shoes, took them into a carry, and then walked on his socks across the rug to help Agnes get up.

"Yes, my grandson came for some tea and biscuits!"

Agnes said with a smile, stumbling to her feet, and with Aren's help, made her way to the kitchen.

"Is that so…"

Aren looked back to the living room's table—there was untouched tea and a half-eaten cracker on the plate.

It was as if Jake already knew that he wouldn't like the tea, so he wasn't even going to touch that, and he tested the cracker but didn't like that either.

'If you don't like the tea, why make your blind grandmother prepare it for you? Just speak the truth. How inconsiderate of her grandson.

'I think he currently has control of Agnes' finances. I don't want to assume the worst. But I don't think her grandson has her best interest in mind.'

Aren, with a dark look, helped Agnes to sit on the kitchen table, and then he prepared her some ready-made chicken soup from a can.

"Thank you… Oh, what I am doing. You're my tenant, not my caretaker. You don't have to do this."

Agnes said as she dipped her spoon in the chicken soup and took a sip, savoring the warmth and flavor.

"It's the least I can do for you. You've been so kind to me since I moved in."

Aren said with a smile and then headed to the stairs to go to the attic to put away his outdoor clothes.

"Aren… I'd hate to ask you, but is it possible for you to pay for your tent today?"

Agnes asked.

It was clear that she didn't want to ask that, as her lips quivered and her blind eyes avoided meeting his.

"…"

Aren looked at her silently and then smiled before saying.

"Of course. I wasn't going to live here free, you know."

"Good… You're a good child, Aren."

Agnes finally broke into a smile and then returned to the chicken soup, which Aren warmed nicely on the gas stove.

It wasn't too hot and not too cold—quite perfect actually—and it was just what Agnes needed as she felt like she was coming down with a cold.

'It's uncharacteristic of her to ask for rent like that. It must've been her grandson who asked. That rent money will go to him, won't it?'

Aren went to the attic and put his shoes, hat, and coat away before walking to the triangle window, where he pulled the curtains aside.

He felt like he had just entered some kind of family drama, and his stomach was in knots as he expected the worst from Agnes' family.

She was clearly a very wealthy one, which wasn't a surprise, as she was a servant of the wealthy Kornacis family and must've made a small fortune.

He didn't know, but when she went down with the Smog Blindness, Kornacis family paid for her early retirement.

That money helped her to get this place, but ever since that, Jake convinced her to let him take care of her finances while leaving her just enough money to survive day-to-day life.

'…In a sense, I am now also part of the Meredica family. That makes Agnes my grandmother as well. I cannot let her be deceived by her family, now can I?'

He rubbed his chin and thought of ways to go through this.

While he wanted to help, he had to remember that he was still Outlaw, and he just couldn't go out and be some justice warrior.

He had to be smart about it so he wouldn't hurt his divinity.

"I should find out first where her grandson is holding all that money. In Kornacis Steel Bank? I don't think so, as that would require him to tell the taxmen where he got the money.

"Under the mattress? Probably. I should find out where he is holding that money, how much he has left, and more importantly, where he is using that money, if he is, which I think he is."

Aren thought out loud and pulled the curtains shut, blanketing the attic in darkness.

…

Kornacis, Money District, the Gambler's Den.

"Give me one more day. I'll be able to get the money and pay you with interest!"

Jake said with an awkward smile.

Across from him, a man with a chest like a barrel sat behind a large oak table, his face warmed with the light from the candlestick.

In the room, standing by the walls, were laughing men of the Gambler's Den, and all eyes were on Jake.

They were sharpening their blades and their tools of torture, and it was clear that they weren't going to use those hammers to hit some nails.

The blunt edges of the hammers were bloody and rusted.

"Another day… Another day… You keep saying that. It's always one more day with you, now, is it?"

Mr. Fortune said, his voice low and cold, with his fists aching to punch Jake in the face.

"Tomorrow is the day, I swear. If I don't pay, you can do anything you want with me. Please, just give me this one last chance!"

Jake pleaded and would've already dropped to his knees if the floor wasn't so dirty, and he was very much a man that cared about cleanliness.

"…Fine."

Mr. Fortune stood up, walked around the desk, and gave a firm pat on Jake's shoulder, which shook his entire skeleton under the layer of flesh.

"T-Thank you, sir."

Jake said with a breath of relief.

Mr. Fortune took a bloody hammer from one of his henchmen, lifted Jake's hand to the desk, and then brought the hammer down, shattering Jake's hand with brutal force.

CRACK!

"Aaaaaaaargh!"

Jake let out a bloodcurdling scream, dropped on the dirty ground, and rolled around in excruciating pain.

Snot and tears streamed down his face.

"You better pay me back, bitch! If you don't, you will lose more than your hand. Don't you fuck with Mr. Fortune!"

With a scream, he kicked Jake in the chest, and it hurt—feeling like he just got kicked by a horse—as Mr. Fortune wasn't just a barrel-chested man.

He was also High Ranker of the Fighter Pathway.