Chapter 335: The Great Supermarket Siege

Well, at least the first five glorious cups were free.

Riley watched in mute disbelief as Orien deployed his deadliest weapons.

Which, unfortunately for the innocent sales personnel, was the child’s face.

The golden dragonling stood in front of the free sample booth like a seasoned professional. Big eyes. Soft expression. Cup held carefully in both hands as if it were a sacred treasure.

He took one small sip.

Paused.

Then his lashes fluttered.

Not dramatically. Not obviously.

Just enough.

“Oh…” Orien breathed, staring down at the empty paper cup like it had just betrayed him. “It’s already gone.”

The saleslady blinked.

Orien looked up slowly. Lower lip barely trembling. Arms extending forward with the empty cup like an offering.

“It was really good,” he added softly. “I wanted to taste it again to make sure.”

Make sure.

Riley nearly choked.

The saleslady hesitated for exactly half a second before refilling the cup.

Orien beamed.

“Thank you, kind miss!”

Sip.

Pause.

Tilt of the head.

“Maybe I drank too fast,” he murmured to himself.

The cup was empty again.

This time, he didn’t even say anything. He just looked at it. Then at her. Then at the cup again. Shoulders slumping slightly. Like a fallen hero.

Riley swore he saw the woman’s resolve crumble in real time.

Another refill.

If Riley were standing behind that stall, he would’ve felt like he was dealing with an extremely short conman while simply acknowledging his fate and giving more away than allowed.

Where did that child even learn all that?

Orien didn’t even look embarrassed. He looked determined. Focused. Like this was a diplomatic negotiation, and the fate of dragonkind rested on these noodles.

By the sixth cup, Riley had seen enough.

The golden dragonling was out there risking his life for more and more free taste, so the ex-mortal had to put a stop to the economic devastation.

“Thank you for letting us try,” Riley cut in politely, sliding his hand out before Orien could launch another performance. “We’ll have two boxes, please.”

The saleslady brightened instantly.

“With seventy-two packets each.”

Riley paused.

“…Seventy-two packets each, that should be enough, right?”

He turned around.

Every single dragon was staring at him.

Not blinking.

Not speaking.

Just… staring.

Even his husband looked at him like he had just suggested they survive winter on a single loaf of bread.

Riley pursed his lips.

Then he smiled.

“Scratch that. Eight boxes, please.”

The saleslady’s eyes widened in delight.

Behind him, there was a collective shift in energy.

Hesitant approval.

Clearly, they thought it would be better to buy more, but the number was clearly better than the pitiful two that Riley initially mentioned.

Orien, however, frowned slightly.

“Eight?” he echoed, calculating something in his head. “If everyone eats five per meal—”

“I’ll do you one better,” Riley interrupted calmly.

“Huh?”

“Cup noodles.”

“What?”

The dragons blinked.

Liam’s face lit up instantly.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Really, big brother?”

Riley nodded.

“This is pretty much like the noodles we just bought. The only difference is that you don’t need any of the items she used to prepare it. Just hot water. It even comes with its own fork.”

“Hot water?” Orien repeated.

“Yes. Just hot water.” Riley looked at them pointedly. Very pointedly.

Dragons.

Who breathe fire.

Who can boil lakes if they sneeze too hard.

“It’s a bit more expensive,” Riley added, “but you can literally eat this whenever you want.”

Silence.

Processing.

Lord Karion, who had been holding a sample cup with suspicious reverence, slowly lowered it.

Apparently, they should taste the same as the one they just had earlier. The flavors were still lingering on his tongue. Rich broth. Spice. Salt. Something deeply satisfying in a way raw magical meat had never quite achieved.

As a dragon of his stature, he had never experienced such a thing.

Dragons traditionally ate raw. Or barely prepared. Spices were considered unnecessary. Sometimes even frowned upon. Why taint bloodlines with foreign additives when strength came from purity?

And yet.

This.

This was outrageously good.

It didn’t matter that there was no mana flowing visibly from it.

There was satisfaction. Warmth. Complexity.

And apparently, all it needed… was hot water.

His golden eyes sharpened.

The others straightened.

Orien gasped dramatically. “We can eat it anytime?”

“Yes,” Riley confirmed. “Anytime.”

The dragonling clutched the new cups like he had just witnessed the dawn of a new era.

SOLD.

Sure enough, Riley, the great promodizer, could’ve made companies rich, because the moment the dragons realized that there weren’t just noodles but entire categories of noodles, it was over.

They had thought there were perhaps two or three variations.

Instead, there were shelves upon shelves lined with different brands, different colors, different promises printed boldly across the packaging as if daring them to try everything.

Spicy beef. Creamy seafood. Black garlic tonkotsu. Extra hot. Double chili. Cheese flood. Curry supreme. Limited seasonal flavors that might never return.

They had no idea what the hell most of those meant, but it wasn’t like that had ever stopped them. Orien stood in front of the display like someone who had just discovered a new branch of magic.

“They’re all different?” he asked faintly.

“In a sense,” Riley answered, already sensing danger. “Most come in different flavors. But sometimes you get the same flavor from a different brand. It’s like their own take on it.”

Orien picked one up. Then another. Then another.

“But what if I really like this one,” he said, staring down at a fiery red cup, “and we don’t get enough?”

He shifted to the next row.

“And what if I like this one even more?”

Then another.

His expression slowly collapsed into something deeply troubled.

“What if I discover my favorite and it’s limited edition?”

The golden dragonling genuinely looked like he might be sick.

Not from overeating, but from the crushing weight of possibility. Coupled with the sudden fear that he’d like something and not be able to get more of it, he looked like he was facing an existential crisis in aisle five.

Riley pressed his fingers to his temple.

If only he knew the other trouble regarding the dragonling’s poor little purse.

How would it survive when they had only visited one aisle?

They hadn’t even gotten to the bottled lightning yet.

But so much for all those worries when the empty carts didn’t stay empty for long. In fact, they filled so quickly that it felt almost strategic. Boxes stacked neatly. Cups arranged in rows. Frozen goods tucked in between like precious relics. Snacks slid into every open corner as if the carts themselves feared being underutilized.

It reached the point where they had to retrieve second carts just to maintain a semblance of peace.

The children immediately reached for the oversized industrial carts with wide eyes.

Riley shut that down without hesitation.

“No.”

They could physically push them, of course. Strength wasn’t the issue.

But socially, they absolutely shouldn’t.

It was enough that they already drew attention, looking like doomsayers preparing for an incoming apocalypse as they bought in quantities most people wouldn’t dare.

Riley had to keep smiling and explaining.

“We’re normally too busy, so it’s best to buy in bulk like this. At least we only need to divide it once.”

He said it so many times it almost sounded believable.

“We prefer meal prep.”

“We host often.”

“Extended family.”

Thankfully, the people behind those different counters just nodded in understanding, interpreting it as organized planning. No one suspected that one of the beings behind him could demolish an entire stash and still ask what was for dessert.

And yet, just when Riley thought he had regained some control over the situation, he felt the air shift.

He turned.

Kael had discovered the freezer section.

The Dragon Lord returned wordlessly, arms full, carrying enough premium patties to give any reasonable cashier pause.

“!!!”

Riley physically swallowed his next excuse.

Kael placed the stacks into the cart with calm precision and asked, completely serious, “Would this be enough for barbecue night?”

Riley blinked.

Barbecue night?

Where were they even picking up these phrases?

His eyes flicked upward and immediately found the answer in the glowing wall screens that kept replaying cheerful advertisements of smiling families flipping patties over open flames while bold text declared Weekend BBQ Specials.

Of course.

Kael had seen the patties his twig used before. He had also apparently absorbed the marketing.

And he had decided it was impossible to leave without them.

Riley stared at the towering stack.

“For how many people?” he asked carefully.

“All of us,” Kael replied evenly.

That honestly clarified nothing, but maybe the ex-mortal should have been proud enough that his mate didn’t simply say, “all mine.”

Kael from months ago would definitely have said something like that. In fact, his golden dragon would have said it if Riley hadn’t sported such a bewildered look

The other Dravaryns glanced at the interesting freezer section as if reevaluating it in a new light.

They really looked like they wanted everything.

Riley closed his eyes briefly.

But how could they not want everything after knowing how good it would probably taste? After the revelation of seasoning, broth, and layered flavors, restraint felt unreasonable.

It didn’t help that one part-human child had decided to weaponize knowledge for the greater good.

Liam drifted closer to his partner in crime and whispered, “You know, maybe you’d like something that I also really like.”

The bubbly child fluttered those lashes convincingly and said it as if anyone there needed any further convincing.

They didn’t.

Really didn’t.

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