Chapter 3 Fire and Pepper

By morning, Kai's muscles still carried the weight of yesterday. The ache sat heavy in his shoulders, but the kind of tired he felt wasn't something that sleep could fix. He pulled on his hoodie, still damp from last night's drizzle, and left the narrow hostel room behind.

The city had already started its usual chaos-air brakes hissing, voices battling in alleys, bikes buzzing down narrow lanes like hornets with engines.

He retraced his steps to the spot he worked yesterday but the job was gone.

In its place, taped loosely to the wall, was another flyer.

"Temporary Work: Kitchen crew needed. 6 AM. No experience required. Back lot behind Market Row."

He checked the time-6:13 a.m.

"Late again," he muttered.

He found the place easily-steam and smoke gave it away before he even turned the corner. A pop-up kitchen had been rigged together behind a rundown grocery shop. Tarps flapped in the wind, held down by bricks and crates. Metal pots clanged over gas burners, and two teenagers argued in rapid-fire voices about whether something was undercooked or just ugly.

A woman-tall, in a grease-stained apron with arms like she hauled kettles for sport-spotted him.

"You here to work?"

"Yes."

"Aprons are over there. Wash. Rinse. Scrub. No breaks till I say."

Kai nodded once and got to work.

The job wasn't glamorous. It was the kind of work that left your skin smelling like burnt garlic and your hands shriveled from soapy water. He scraped charred pans until his knuckles stung, lifted crates of ingredients heavier than he looked, and dodged one near slip on a puddle of spilled oil.

The noise never stopped. Orders flew, food sizzled, someone dropped a tray of rice loud enough to make everyone flinch-except Kai. He barely noticed anymore.

Survival was its own kind of focus.

When the shift ended, the woman gave him a curt nod and handed him a folded bill-creased and damp, but real. He tucked it into his pocket like it was treasure, thanked her with a tired smile, and walked off into the street, his mind already on food.

He didn't want anything fancy. Just something hot. Spicy. That tasted like reward.

His stomach gurgled like it was already eating the idea.

He passed street stalls and corner grills, sniffing the air for clues. Somewhere nearby, someone was cooking meat over open fire. Spices floated in the air-paprika, maybe chili. His feet moved before he made the decision.

Then it happened.

A shoulder slammed into his.

Not hard enough to knock him down, but sharp enough to break his momentum. He turned quickly. A man in a grey hoodie kept walking, blending into the crowd before Kai could say anything.

Strange.

But not alarming.

He kept walking-until instinct made him reach into his pocket.

Empty.

His pace slowed.

He checked again

Still nothing.

The cash was gone.

His first thought wasn't even anger. It was disbelief. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, surrounded by strangers moving past him like water around a stone. It took a minute to sink in.

Someone had picked his pocket. And now, he had nothing. Again.

He stared down the street like the thief might still be in view, but there were too many faces. Too much noise.

And he was too tired to chase a ghost.

Anger followed-slow, bitter, unwelcome.

But his stomach was louder.

So he followed the scent of grilled food until he reached a bright red cart parked at the edge of a busier lane. The paint was peeling, but the smell was magnetic-meat skewers crackling over hot coals, dripping in some kind of thick, fiery glaze. His mouth watered before he even got close.

The vendor didn't look up at first. She wore her hair tied back in two long braids, a dark t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and gloves that were already stained with marinade. Her grill hissed as she brushed sauce onto the skewers with practiced ease.

A hand-painted sign leaned against the side of her cart:

FIRE & PEPPER

Grilled Skewers - $2 Each

NO CREDIT. PAY FIRST. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Kai stepped forward, the scent pulling at him like a hook. "One, please."

Without looking, she said, "Payment?"

"I-" He reached for his pocket again. Empty.

The reality hit a second time. Somehow, saying it aloud would make it worse.

"I... I had cash. Someone bumped into me. Stole my money. I didn't notice until just now."

Now she looked up.

Her eyes were narrow and unreadable, but something about her posture shifted. She stared at him for a second too long. Then she tilted her head.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I'm not making it up," he said, defensive now.

She raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't be the first."

Kai's jaw tightened. "Look, I just finished working a six-hour shift scrubbing grease out of someone's kitchen. I earned that money. I had it. Someone stole it."

"That's rough," she said coolly. "But not my problem."

"I'm not asking for a handout. I just-look, I'm hungry. I'll come back and pay."

"Nope."

"No?"

"You read the sign." She jabbed her tongs toward the board. "No credit. No exceptions. Especially not for guys with stories that sound like bad TV."

Kai scowled. "It's not a story. It happened."

"And I'm sure you're an honest, hardworking guy who totally didn't spend his last cash on something else and now thinks I'm a soft target."

His voice rose slightly. "I didn't spend anything."

"Well, you don't have anything, so it's kind of the same, isn't it?"

"Wow," he said. "You're really something."

She snorted. "She snorted. 'Thanks. Heard that before too."

"I'm not lying to you."

"And I'm not feeding you. That's how this works."

"You're just assuming I'm some scammer-"

"Because I've met scammers. You all have the same face-tired, polite, and full of half-truths. You think if you sound desperate enough, someone will hand you something."

Kai took a step back, the fire of frustration rising in his chest. "So what? You grill food all day and think you're the street authority?"

She stepped around the cart, pointing a tong at him like a sword. "I work twelve hours a day to afford a stall on a corner most people ignore. I don't owe you food just because you look like a sad movie."

The wind shifted, blowing smoke between them. Around them, people passed by, too used to sidewalk arguments to stop. But for Kai and Mei, the noise had faded.

There was just heat, tension, and the low hiss of charring meat.

He exhaled sharply. "Forget it."

"Gladly." She replied staring at him.