Teeth Behind the Smile

Chapter Sixteen: Teeth Behind the SmileThe next morning, I was a wreck.My anxiety had fully unpacked its maleta, brewed itself a cup of 3-in-1 coffee, and decided we were doing panic as a lifestyle choice. My hands fumbled as I restocked lighters, dropping two, catching none.“Kuya Pepito!” Marikit called cheerfully as we closed up the cleaning supplies. “The new walis tambo are almost gone again!”“That’s great, Mari,” I said, forcing a smile that felt like it was held up by scotch tape. “I’ll put in new stock.”Growth. Commerce. Capitalism. Please don’t let it eat us alive.The door creaked open.Tak and Mina walked in—Tak casual as ever, Mina looking like she’d survived three deadlines and one emotional breakdown and lost all of them. They stood a little closer than usual.I raised an eyebrow. “Behold: Sarimanok’s newest power couple.”[BEP ANALYSIS:][Scan complete. Subjects: Tak and Mina.][Interpersonal-relationship status: It’s Complicated.][Recommendation: User should not comment further to avoid fireball-related injuries.]“Hey, man. How’s business?” Tak grinned, ignoring my look.“Congrats,” I said. “May you both be happy—and may you both step on Legos in your sleep.”Tak snorted. Mina just sighed like that wasn’t even the worst curse she’d heard today.“Oh,” Tak added, his face sobering up. “Tina mentioned a big-shot inspector from another guild is visiting. That true?”“Yup. Lakanbini Susan wants me to dazzle them with modern goods and Pinoy charm,” I said—strategically omitting the part where I’d already served said inspector’s scout instant soup like a war crime yesterday.“Smart play,” Tak nodded. “Let ’em see what you’ve got and make ’em want in. You’ve got the Alimpatak Seal of Approval.”I leaned closer over the counter. “Wait. You sound worried. Are there… bad guilds?”Squawk.Kapitan cut in from his perch.[BRACELET TRANSLATION: Still a greenhorn. He thinks everyone is nice because they buy his soup.]“Want a cracker?” Tak asked the bird.Bad idea.CHOMP.“Ow—HEY!” Tak yelped as Kapitan bit his finger. “What the hell, bird?”“Infamously bad,” Mina said, her voice sharpening, ignoring Tak’s pain. “Like the Brine-Bound Trident. Or the Blade and Barnacle.”“Those sound like off-brand energy drinks,” I said.“Worse,” she muttered, dark circles evident under her eyes. “And then there’s the worst of them all…”Tak lowered his voice, nursing his finger. “Maritime’s Wharf.”My blood went cold.[BEP: Querying… Maritime’s Wharf.][Cross-referencing gossip networks and merchant chatter…][Result: Oh. This is not good.]“Third biggest guild on the continent,” Tak said grimly. “And third worst morally. Ruthless. Shady. Think hostile corporate takeover—but with swords and arson. They moved into a town up north last year. Six months later, every artisan was either bankrupt or working for scraps.”I swallowed. Hard. The taste of my morning coffee turned sour.“Miss Susan…” I said slowly. “She did mention the guild’s name…”From across the room, Marikit piped up, bright as sunshine.“Oh yeah! Miss Susan said the nice inspector was from Maritime’s Wharf!”The fire in the hearth crackled awkwardly. Even the shadows winced.“Tak,” I said quietly. “Does Susan know?”“Doubt it,” he said. “She’s a politician in a forgotten town. Sarimanok’s isolated. No scroll-mail. No crystal chat. Just gossip.”Right. No TikTok warnings saying “Avoid Maritime’s Wharf Like a Plague of Goblins.” Just a desperate Lakanbini trying to save her town—with the first shiny guild that smiled and said hello.And that shiny guild?The sharp-eyed woman I’d just fed instant Arroz Caldo.With teeth.I clenched my jaw and stepped toward the shop door, staring out at the calm, dark sea.“She may have invited a monster in to save us from the orcs…” I whispered.I let the silence stretch.“…but I won’t let it stay for dinner.”The SummonsTwo hours later.My shop, Pepito’s Practical Miracles (working title), was spotless. The new Stormproof Lighters stood in a perfect, militaristic row. The MREs and thermal blankets were stacked like disciplined soldiers awaiting inspection. My phone—the BEP—sat polished and still on the counter, its screen dark.[User has re-stacked the lighter display four (4) times in the last hour.]The BEP’s voice sliced through the silence.[This is an inefficient use of time. Vitals are 82% consistent with the “Annual Performance Review 2023” stress profile. I suggest deep-breathing exercises.]“I am not stressed, BEP,” I muttered, aligning one lighter by a single millimeter. “I’m strategically preparing for a high-stakes, business-to-business synergy meeting.”[...User is stressed.]“Shut up.”Okay, fine. I was stressed.Then came the creak of the old floorboard—and the ding! of the front door.Marikit skidded inside, hair wild, chest heaving, eyes wide with panic. “Kuuuuyyya—! You gotta come. Now!”My stomach did that familiar rollercoaster drop.“What’s wrong?” I asked, grabbing my satchel. “Is the inspector early?”She shook her head, panting. “No—Miss Susan said… you’re needed at the Whispering Seagulls Guild. Right away!”“The Guild Hall?” My brows knit. “Not the town hall? Not here? Why there?”“I don’t know!” she said, her voice high with fear. “Miss Susan’s already there with the Head Inspector! She said to fetch you, fast! She... she looked scared, Kuya.”Something cold crawled up my spine. A change of venue. A power play. He was making her come to him.I grabbed my phone.[BEP: Lakanbini Susan’s biometric beacon active.][Location: Whispering Seagulls Guild Hall.][Unidentified signature detected—analyzing…][Result: Subject “Rudolfo Torente.” Male. Age: 54.][Magical Items Detected: 1x Ring of Warding (High-Grade), 1x Amulet of Persuasion (Subtle).][Analysis: Subject is in full control.]My pulse spiked. “An Amulet of Persuasion.” This wasn’t a meeting—it was a mugging.“All right, Mari. Lead the way. And stay close.”The ConfrontationWhen we reached the sagging, mildew-stained Guild Hall, I pushed the double doors open. “It’s me—I’m coming in!”Marikit clung to my sleeve like a tiny shadow.Inside, the air was still—but charged. The kind of silence before lightning strikes.They were all there.Susan stood near the empty quest board, her posture rigid. Her smile was stretched so thin it looked ready to shatter. The vibrant green dress screamed diplomacy, but the tremor in her hands betrayed her.The Alimpatak—Tak, Yara, Daks, and Mina—were lined up against the far wall like soldiers at a tribunal. Their faces were thunder.Behind the counter, Tina’s arms were folded tight, her fox ears flat, her tail lashing with quiet fury.And then there was him.Rudolfo Torente.He was... not what I expected. Not a warrior. Not a sleek executive.He was stocky. Middle-aged. With a beer belly of pure authority. He wore velvet robes that cost more than this entire building. He poked at a faded tapestry with his walking stick, his back turned to us.Standing next to him, silent and scribbling on a clipboard, was the woman from last night. The Scout. She didn't look at me.Rudolfo turned. His eyes were the eyes of a man who enjoyed saying "no" for sport.[BEP: Subject “Rudolfo Torente.” Heart rate: 70 bpm. He is in full control.][Warning: Amulet of Persuasion active. Effect—instills passive doubt and submission in targets. Maintain psychological distance.]“Oh, you’re here,” Susan said, voice trembling an octave too high.[BEP: Lakanbini Susan’s vitals unstable. Heart rate 122 bpm. She is terrified.]“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound casual, adjusting my glasses. “Got the summons. What’s up?”She glided over, linking her arm with mine—half formality, half lifeline. “Thank you for coming,” she whispered. “He’s being… difficult. If he’s rude, please... just roll with it. For Sarimanok.”“Rude customers?” I murmured. “Susan, I survived three corporate restructurings and a decade of BPO callers. I’ll live.”She gave a weak laugh. “Thanks, Pepito.”Susan smoothed her skirt, her Lakanbini mask snapping into place. “Mr. Torente,” she called clearly, “allow me to introduce Sarimanok’s top merchant and the core of our new trade initiative—Pepito Espiritu.”Torente turned, eyes flicking over me, lingering on Marikit, then back. No greeting. No nod. Just silence.When the customer is silent, fill the space.“It’s an honor, sir,” I said, bowing slightly. “I run the new general store on Cliffside.”“I’m his Assistant Manager!” Marikit added quickly, puffing her chest out.Torente’s gaze drifted over her like she was furniture. “This is your merchant?” he sneered. “You call this boy a trader? He looks barely out of diapers.”“Still learning, sir,” I said evenly. “But my products are legitimate.”“Legitimate?” He barked a laugh. “With a child helper? You country folk throw your titles around like confetti.”Marikit’s lip quivered. I squeezed her hand gently, keeping my jaw tight.[BEP: Adrenaline spike detected. Subject Torente shielded. Do not engage physically.]Torente pointed his walking stick at Tina. “And this? A filthy demi-human behind the counter? What kind of operation tolerates that?”Tina froze. Tak stepped forward, hand on his sword, only for Padre Daks to hold him back with a massive hand.“I do the cleaning!” Tina snapped, tail bristling. “Every day!”“You do all that cleaning, and it still looks like this?” he sneered. “Typical. The demi-humans in the capital at least stay useful. Or silent.”The silence after was suffocating.[BEP: Probability of violence—63%.]“Maybe,” I muttered, “you should show him the product before Tak and Daks commit homicide.”Susan nodded shakily and handed Torente a Stormproof Lighter.He flicked it. The flame bloomed steady and bright. “Hm. Functional. At least your goods are decent.”Susan seized the opening. “As Lakanbini, I officially recommend Pepito Espiritu’s shop as Sarimanok’s primary trade partner.”Torente chuckled. “A local noble’s recommendation? How quaint.” Then he smiled. “Fine. I’ll accept.”Relief washed over Susan’s face—too soon.“But,” he added, “there are conditions.”Of course there were. There were always conditions.“First,” he said, turning to Tina. “Maritime’s Wharf will be the only guild in Sarimanok. The Whispering Seagulls charter is hereby dissolved. You can re-apply... as an apprentice. If we have space.”[BEP: Condition One — Hostile Takeover.]Tina gasped. “You can’t—my father built this guild!”“He built a failure,” Torente snapped. “Second: Maritime’s Wharf will be exempt from all local taxes for ten years.”[BEP: Condition Two — Tax Evasion. Unsustainable projection: 40% loss for the town.]“Third,” he said breezily, “your town will fund construction of our new Guild Hall. The Lakanbini’s manor seems... suitable. We’ll take it.”[BEP: Condition Three — Asset Seizure. Bankruptcy probable within six months.]Susan’s voice cracked. “You... you want my home?”And finally, his eyes landed on me.“Fourth, and most importantly—I want exclusive rights to those lighters. And the food. And that... blanket. All of it.”“You mean buy them?” I asked.“No. You’ll stop selling them. We’ll handle distribution. You will produce only for us.”“That’ll gouge the locals,” I said quietly. “They won’t be able to afford it.”“That’s called good business.”“It’s called exploitation,” Susan hissed.“You still don’t get it,” he said, smiling. “This isn’t about your town. It’s about control. About power. About technology. I take this to the Capital, and I become a king.”He leaned closer. The Amulet of Persuasion hummed, a low vibration in my skull.“Sign it over, boy. You’ll make a small fortune.”I smiled. “Tempting. But I’ll have to decline.”His smile cracked. “...Why?”“Supplier’s unreliable,” I lied. “Restocks take ages.”He stepped closer. “No shipments. No caravans. You never leave town. So tell me, boy—”Then the fog hit. A creeping suggestion in my mind. Just tell him. He’s right. He’s powerful. Just submit.[BEP: Amulet of Persuasion active. Countering... Filter engaged.]Clarity snapped back.“Maybe I’ve just got a rare storage skill,” I said lightly.He laughed. “If you did, you’d be rich in the Capital. No—there’s only one explanation.”He raised his arms, voice booming.“You’re running an Atelier! A secret workshop! Unlicensed. Illegal. A rogue crafter!”[BEP: !!! SECURITY BREACH !!! DO NOT CONFIRM! DO NOT DENY!]Torente grinned triumphantly. “He’s not a merchant—he’s a criminal artisan! Lakanbini, you’re harboring an unregistered crafter! The Capital will be very interested.”Everyone’s eyes turned to me. Tak looked ready to fight. Susan looked ready to faint.I didn’t deny it. I just smiled.Torente’s confidence flickered. “Aha! A silent confession! You admit it!”He turned to Susan. “Lakanbini, I’m detaining this man on suspicion of illegal artisanry. Hand him over. We’ll confiscate his atelier and all contents as evidence.”“You will do no such thing,” Susan said, voice trembling but fierce, stepping between us.“I will,” he snarled. “Or I’ll file a report that this town harbors criminals. Your charter will be revoked by sundown.”Checkmate. Either way, he won.Do what you can, apo. Help how you can.I adjusted my glasses. “You’re right, Mr. Torente.”Everyone froze.“Kuya…” Marikit whispered.“Pepito, what are you doing?” Susan hissed.“I am an artisan,” I said clearly. “A crafter.”[BEP: USER, NO! ABORT!]“And you’re right,” I went on, ignoring the panic in the room. “I’ve been making these in a secret workshop. It’s a family technique.”Torente’s grin widened. “Then you admit it!”“I do. But you’ve got one thing wrong.”“Oh?”“It’s not illegal.”I pulled out my phone. “BEP, display registry. Charter 42-A. The Espiritu Mandate.”[Acknowledge—retrieving... Espiritu Family Charter.][Registered: Lakanbini Maria Ynez Espiritu.][Co-signed: The First Council of Sarimanook.][Date: 55 years ago.]A brilliant blue-gold holographic scroll flared above my phone, glowing with ancient script and the undeniable seal of the Kingdom.Torente’s jaw dropped. The scout dropped her clipboard.“My grandmother, Ynez Espiritu,” I said, my voice ringing in the silent hall, “was the First Merchant of this town—and its first registered artisan. She co-signed the founding charter, which included a special mandate.”I pointed to a line of text floating in the air.“Clause 42-A: The Espiritu line shall be granted permanent, hereditary, and unrestricted rights to craft, create, and import items of other-worldly origin for the betterment and defense of Sarimanook.”I looked him dead in the eye.“I’m not an illegal artisan, Mr. Torente. I’m the heir. My atelier is fully licensed—by the founding law of this town. And it supersedes Guild authority.”[BEP: Subject vitals: 145 bpm. Tachycardia detected. Subject is... panicking.]“So,” I said, “my supplier isn’t unreliable. I am the supplier. And my shop is 100% legal.”I turned to Susan, whose eyes shimmered with renewed hope.“Which means,” I added softly, “your conditions, Mr. Torente, are… how did you put it? Quaint. This isn’t a hostile takeover. This is just... a rude customer bothering a legitimate business.”I closed the hologram with a flick of my wrist. The light vanished.“So,” I said, smiling, “would you like to place a fair order? Or shall I have my friends”—I gestured toward the Alimpatak, who were now grinning like wolves—“show you the door?”