Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 195

Chapter 195 Cheer You Up Hand

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“Mm,” Quentin grunted. He was a lot more relaxed here than he’d been back on Prime Planet-no longer on high alert every second.

They passed a street food stall, and the air filled with the spicy, savory smell of grilled meat. Sweet sauce and charred smoke mixed together into something so rich it made you want to stop dead in your tracks.

Margaret froze mid-step, her eyes locked on the sizzling, steaming grill.

The vendor was a chubby, friendly-looking guy in a faded apron, flipping meat skewers on the griddle like he’d been doing it his whole life. The second he slathered sauce on them, they sizzled loudly and sharply. White smoke curled up, carrying the scent straight to their faces.

A familiar voice popped up in her head out of nowhere.

“Host-what kind of meat is that? It smells so good.” Primo was awake.

Margaret raised an eyebrow.

It’s supposed to be resting. But one whiff of food-well, it can’t actually smell anything, but it must’ve sensed the food somehow and booted right back up.

“I thought you were resting,” she said mentally.

“I’m done resting… I didn’t just turn on automatically because I smelled meat or anything…” Primo sounded a little more awake than last night, but only just barely.

Margaret was just reaching for her Holo-bracelet to pay when a hand held out a piece of rare metal to the vendor first.

“Two orders.” Quentin’s voice was flat and cool, every word sharp and clear.

The chubby guy took the coin and glanced up at Quentin-stone-faced, with that sharp, dangerous air about him.

He didn’t look scared at all, though. He just grinned and tossed two extra skewers into the bag.

“You’re a handsome kid. Traveling through, huh?” The guy stacked the skewers neatly on greaseproof paper, folded the bag up, and handed it over, chattering away warmly. “This place is out of the way, but it’s safe. You picked the right spot to end up. Out there, the Federation and Empire are always fighting, dragging people off left and right. If Master hadn’t taken us in, we exiles and foreigners would’ve died our on the mining planets ages ago.”

He wiped the grease off his hands and nodded up at the purple sky, his eyes full of gratitude. “None of us have ever even seen what Master looks like, but he turned this whole dead zone into a safe haven. Follow the rules, and anyone can build a life here. It’s a good deal, is what it is.”

Quentin took the bag. He listened to a stranger gush about his own brother right to his face, and didn’t so inuch as blink.

He and Tyrone never showed their faces in public. Even here, on their own turf, only a tiny handful of people knew who they really were.

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13.13 Mon, 6

Chapter 195 Cheer You Up

Quentin held out one of the bags to Margaret.

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Margaret took a skewer and bit into it. The meat was firm and juicy, the spices layered and complex- spicy, with a faint sweet aftertaste.

“Host! Is it good? What does it taste like? Is it spicy? Is the meat tender? Chewy?” Primo fired off questions one right after another,

“Spicy, pretty tender. Tastes kind of like lamb skewers from Earth, but the meat’s denser,” Margaret answered in her head, then took another bite.

Primo said, “I wanna try it so bad… I wish I could taste what you taste…”

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Margaret’s mouth as she listened.

She snapped out of her thoughts and studied the white-haired, red-eyed man in front of her. Quentin stood there eating his skewers, stiff and formal, taking one neat bite after another.

Margaret thought back to Tyrone, with that sly, scheming grin of his, and her opinion of the two brothers shifted without her even noticing.

Out in the rest of the galaxy, Tyrone was a cutthroat arms dealer and info broker-the Empire’s most wanted criminal.

But here in the Stillstar Galaxy, he used all that dirty money to build a safe haven for every person in the galaxy with nowhere else to go.

Exiles, foreigners, mutants-anyone the Empire cast aside, he took in.

Margaret huffed a quiet laugh.

They found a quiet corner and sat down on a clean set of stone steps, Clusters of tiny purple flowers grew in the cracks between the stones. They were some unknown variety, pushing right through the rock and blooming bright even under the sunless sky.

In an age where resources were dried up and plant life was nearly gone across the galaxy, it was a rare, strange sight.

People streamed up and down the street, all kinds of weird and wonderful alien races passing by. But every single one of them had that easy, warm look on their faces-the kind you almost never saw out in the rest of the galaxy.

There was none of the Empire’s rigid class system, none of that genetic hierarchy prejudice baked into every part of life.

Here, there was no S-class, no C-class. Everyone haggled at the same stalls, side by side.

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