The morning after the three men visited Grandpa's Noodles, Vash noticed that his grandfather was unusually quiet. Grandpa sat at one of the tables with a small notebook and a calculator, going through the restaurant's expenses again and again. Vash didn't need to ask what he was calculating. He already knew.
The money the gang had demanded was more than the restaurant could comfortably spare.
Grandpa had already managed to put some money aside, but it still wasn't enough.
Vash stood nearby for a moment before asking, "Grandpa, how much have we saved?"
Grandpa looked up and gave him a tired smile. "Enough to cover part of it."
"Part?"
Grandpa nodded. "We're still short."
Vash looked around the restaurant. His eyes eventually settled on the menu hanging near the counter. Most of the dishes had been there for years. The restaurant had its regular customers, and the food was good, but Vash couldn't help wondering whether the menu could be improved.
"Grandpa," he said, "have you ever thought about changing the menu?"
Grandpa looked at him with surprise. "Changing it?"
"Maybe adding something new. Or improving some of the dishes."
Grandpa gave a small laugh. "You've become interested in business now?"
Vash shrugged. "I'm just thinking."
Before Grandpa could say anything else, Grandma called from the kitchen. "Vash!"
He turned toward her.
"Your exam," she reminded him.
Vash glanced at the textbooks sitting on the table.
Grandma walked over and pointed at them. "You have an assessment coming soon. Don't spend all your time worrying about the restaurant."
Grandpa nodded. "Your grandmother is right. Let us handle the business."
"But—"
"No," Grandma said gently. "You've worked too hard to get back to school. Right now, your studies come first."
Vash looked at his grandparents for a moment before finally nodding. "Okay."
He returned to his seat and opened his mathematics book, though the menu remained in the back of his mind.
The following days settled into a strict routine. Vash studied whenever he had free time, helped at the restaurant when his grandparents allowed him to, completed his rehabilitation exercises, and made sure not to miss his daily missions. His learning efficiency was beginning to make a noticeable difference. New topics were still difficult at first, but once he understood the basic idea, related concepts seemed easier to grasp. The system wasn't giving him knowledge, and it certainly wasn't solving the questions for him. Vash still had to read, practice, make mistakes, and correct them. The difference was that he was beginning to learn faster than before.
Mathematics gradually became less intimidating. English vocabulary started staying in his memory longer. Science required more reading, but Vash found himself becoming genuinely interested in some of the topics. Even Social Studies became easier when he stopped trying to memorize isolated facts and started understanding the connections between them.
The days passed quietly.
Sometimes Vash studied during the day. Other times, after Grandpa and Grandma had gone to sleep, he would remain at his desk under the dim light of his lamp. The house would be completely silent except for the occasional sound from outside. Vash would rub his tired eyes, look at the clock, and tell himself that he would stop after one more topic.
One topic often became two.
Then three.
Eventually, exhaustion would force him to close the book.
The next morning, he would start again.
His recovery continued during the same period. His walking became more stable, and he could move around the restaurant without needing someone beside him. The progress was still slow, but Vash had learned not to underestimate small improvements.
One evening, he opened the system after finishing his rehabilitation.
[RECOVERY DATA]
Rehabilitation Progress: 1.8 → 2.3 / 10
Walking Stability: 1.6 → 2.1 / 10
Balance: 1.7 → 2.2 / 10
Vash stared at the numbers for a moment before smiling. "Still going up."
He closed the interface and returned to his studies.
A week had passed.
The deadline given by the three men had finally arrived.
Grandpa had already gathered the money they had managed to save. It wasn't the full amount, but it was everything they could prepare without putting the restaurant in immediate trouble.
Throughout the day, Grandpa occasionally looked toward the entrance.
Vash noticed.
He knew exactly what his grandfather was waiting for.
But the restaurant remained peaceful.
No unfamiliar men entered.
No one came asking for money.
No one even mentioned the gang.
When evening arrived, Vash began to wonder if they had decided not to come.
The restaurant closed.
Still, nobody came.
That night, Grandpa placed the money away and locked the restaurant.
"They didn't come," Vash said quietly.
Grandpa looked toward the street.
"No."
"Maybe they changed their mind?"
Grandpa didn't answer immediately.
"Maybe," he finally said.
Vash wasn't convinced.
Neither was Grandpa.
But for that night, there was nothing more they could do.
The next morning, Vash woke up expecting another ordinary day.
He had no idea that the gang's silence was only temporary.