Old Tiger Zhao sighed, accepting his fate.
’Alright, alright! You greedy traitors!’ he thought, patting his belly.
Old Tiger Zhao dragged his feet to the counter like a man heading to his own execution.
“Let me get one ice cream, kid.” he grumbled, tossing the crystals down.
Hao took them with a smile, but Old Tiger Zhao’s hand lingered as if he could still save them. He finally let go after a few seconds, earning a snicker from Hao, who handed over a hexagonal, engraved token.
Old Tiger Zhao stared at it.
“…”
“Is this the ice cream?”
“…”
Hao face twitched. He pointed across the store.
“See that shiny metal thing over there? That’s the one makin’ the smell.”
“It’s the machine that gives you the ice cream.”
Old Tiger Zhao’s eyes widened. So that’s where the heavenly scent was coming from.
That weird, glowing metal beast…
“But first, put the token into the little box beside it.” Hao added, pointing at the cone dispenser.
Old Tiger Zhao nodded solemnly and marched over. He stopped in front of the small opening in the dispenser – just the right size for the token in his hand.
“This one, right, kid?”
“Yeah, that’s it. After you insert it, just stick your hand inside.”
“…Inside?”
“Yeah.”
With great hesitation, Old Tiger Zhao inserted the token. A small click sounded.
He muttered something under his breath and cautiously slid his hand into the larger hole beneath.
Ploof.
He jolted.
A sudden weight settled in his palm, cold and firm. He slowly pulled his hand back.
He held… a strange golden-brown horn-like shell, firm to the touch, spiraling outward with a neat little rim. Hollow on the inside.
He turned it over twice, and sniffed it.
“…This thing smells good.”
“This is edible too?”
“Yes, you can also eat that.” Hao replied.
“You can go to the ice cream machine now.”
Old Tiger Zhao gave a nod and shuffled forward, cradling the strange cone like it was some ancient treasure he might accidentally crush.
His grip was careful – this thing felt fragile. Too fragile.
He had shattered metal ores tougher than this with a flick.
“Place the one you’re holding onto the holder,” Hao instructed, pointing to the small platform.
Old Tiger Zhao obeyed.
And then… the machine hummed.
The strange metal beast came to life with a low whirring. The top spun once.
A soft rumble echoed from inside.
Shlorp.
With precise grace, a spiral of white, creamy… something began flowing down from the nozzle. It swirled neatly, tightening into a perfect little peak on top of the cone.
Old Tiger Zhao stared at it like it was a sword formation unfolding before his eyes.
Not a single drop wasted. Not a swirl out of place.
He had seen battle formations less precise than this.
“It looks… exactly like the illustration.” Old Tiger Zhao said, awestruck.
“You can get it and eat it now, old man.” Hao shouted.
Old Tiger Zhao blinked, breaking from his trance.
He snatched up the cone and immediately bit into the top.
Cold. Smooth. Sweet.
Then –
Bang!
A sharp sting shot straight to the center of his forehead.
A normal man might’ve dropped the cone.
Might’ve staggered back. Might’ve screamed.
Old Tiger Zhao? He grinned.
“A brain attack technique? Heh. Not bad…”
His fingers trembled slightly from the shock, but he didn’t stop.
No – he devoured the ice cream, jaw working with terrifying speed.
For someone who lived his whole life surrounded by heat, ash, and boiling winds, this cold sensation was like stepping into a spirit spring hidden deep inside the mountains.
This wasn’t food.
This was salvation!
This was justice!
This… was exactly what Older Tiger Zhao’s soul had been craving all these years.
Hao watched from behind the counter.
Was… was the old man fighting the ice cream?
Older Tiger Zhao looked like he’d just taken a direct hit to the core and decided to embrace it.
There was actual fire in his eyes.
He was chewing with the intensity of someone who wanted to conquer the cone.
Bro.
It’s just ice cream…
But then again, Hao kind of got it.
It was that good.
Especially for someone trying it for the first time.
The ice cream must’ve hit harder than prime Ippo Makunouchi.
And this old man probably came straight out of some hellish place, just look at what his appearance.
Old Tiger Zhao was already halfway through the cone already.
Hao opened his mouth to give a quick warning.
“Wait – don’t eat the paper at the bottom of the -”
Crunch.
Too late.
Old Tiger Zhao had demolished the entire thing. Cone, wrapper, ice cream – gone.
Hao stared, stunned.
“…”
He rubbed his face. ’Nah. This old man is insane.’
“Hey. Old man.”
“That white wrap at the bottom? Yeah, not food.”
Old Tiger Zhao licked his lips and shrugged.
“Tasted fine to me, kid.”
Old Tiger Zhao scratched the back of his head and chuckled.
“You sure that wrapper wasn’t part of it?”
Hao looked at him deadpan. “It was paper.”
“Right, right… fancy paper.” Old Tiger Zhao nodded sagely.
“Tasted a bit like sugar rice sheets.”
“It’s not food.”
“Little chewy, bit bland, but eh. Goes down easy.”
“Your gut’s gonna regret that, old man.”
Old Tiger Zhao waved him off with a scoff.
“My gut’s tougher than a demonic beast’ hide. Survived poisonous stew from Widow Liu’s house three summers straight. This?”
“This is nothing.”
He leaned over the counter, tapping two fingers on the surface.
“Alright, give me another one, kid. Just one more.”
“Old man’s got the crystals.”
Hao gestured lazily at the board on the wall.
Rule No. 1: Daily Limits Are Absolute. Each customer may purchase only one of each product per day. Greed is not tolerated.
“Come back tomorrow, old man. Only one a day.” Hao said without emotion.
Old Tiger Zhao blinked.
His jaw dropped slightly. “…”
Then he slowly dropped to his knees.
Hands pressed together.
“Kid… Old man begs you.”
“My tongue still cold. I can still taste the chill. It needs a friend.”
He clasped his hands dramatically.
“You see these old bones? I might not survive until tomorrow!”
“Kid – !”
