Work Text:
You were just a normal run-of-the-mill HamHamPangPang worker; it paid enough for you to pay your share of the fixer protection fees on your block. You secretly wanted to run your own restaurant. It was a dream you had almost forgotten, but the White Nights had reminded you of it.
One day the restaurant got a very strange order. On the front, it claimed to be an invitation to some sort of library, and on the back it had an order scrawled out claiming to be from Roland, one of your regulars.
You were tasked with delivering the order; you sometimes had to break up fights in the restaurant and were confident you could take out the older grade nine fixer if this was his idea of a trap. You grabbed your spear and the food before signing your name on the front.
Suddenly you were transported to a very large and ornate library. A woman with sky blue hair was there to greet you.
“Welcome to the Library. I am Angela. You must be Roland's guest. Defeat him in combat, and you may receive a book of your choice as payment,” she said.
“I'm just here to deliver food,” you said dryly.
“You must participate in the reception to leave the library. You may leave the food with me; I will deliver it to its proper destination.”
“You have to pay first.”
“I will have it deposited after you complete the reception.” She ignored your protests, pulled the food out of your hands with surprising strength and disappeared with a sharp snap.
Well, time to see if you could actually defeat Roland in a fight. You found him waiting on a bridge surrounded by impossibly tall stacks of books. His normally nice suit was replaced with torn clothes better suited for a rat than a fixer.
“Where's the food?”
“Someone named Angela took it.”
“Alright then, guess I don't have to worry about getting blood on it.”
The two of them were locked in a surprisingly one-sided battle. Roland really wasn't much stronger than a rat. It was no wonder he was never promoted; it didn't take your spear to find its way between Roland's ribs. He collapsed, and you put him out of his misery rather than leaving him to drown in his own blood. He disappeared in a flash of golden pages that left a small tingling feeling you had only felt once before: during the white days.
“Congratulations.” Angela met him on the other side of the bridge. “You may select a book from our collection.”
“Can I take this one?” You held up an autobiography that had a few good recipes you wanted to try in it.
“Of course, I will send you back to where you came. Please spread the word of the services my library can provide. I have sent appropriate payment over to your HamHamPangPang branch location.”
With a wave of Angela's hand, you were back behind the counter of the restaurant.
“Where the hell did you go!?” your boss demanded.
“The weirdest delivery of my life. It was some weird liminal library. I had to kill Roland to get out”
“Aww… I liked Roland. He never caused problems,” the cashier said.
–
Every few days, an invitation for the library would come in. You would sign it, kill Roland, who apparently could come back from the dead (not that he seemed to know that), and take a new, strangely autobiographical cookbook, or more recently, on business. You were starting to feel like maybe you could actually create your own business!
It was after a month had passed that someone else recognized an invitation. Only their reaction wasn't nearly as positive as you or your coworkers had become.
“The Library’s an Urban Legend,” they explained. “I've heard that it's run by a machine that revives and puppeteers its past victims. Turning their strength against those who dare enter its doors.”
“I mean… they're a regular of ours? They place an order, I beat up this one grade nine fixer, and then they let me go home. It's not a threat”
“Are you sure they're not just letting you leave for the food?”
“So what? I get paid in Ahn and books; it's been working out”
“It'll be your funeral. Not mine,” the customer said with a shrug.
–
Another few months went by. You started taking book requests, made enough Ahn to buy your own building, and quit your job at HamHamPangPang. When you saw the slip of paper on your shiny new countertop, you were excited! Your first customers. The back was blank, but it's not like the library knew your menu; the orders had gotten longer over time, so you spent the whole night preparing a selection. When you finally signed the invitation, Angela greeted you as always.
“Thats not hamhampangpang.”
“Nope, I opened my own restaurant using the books you guys gave me! Thanks for that, by the way. Consider this first meal on the house.”
Angela was silent for a moment.
“I liked hamhampangpang. I only recently gained the ability to taste things, you see. I was enjoying sampling Roland's suggestions.”
“Well! I brought my whole menu so you can sample the whole thing.”
“Sigh… of course. May you find your book in this place,” and then she was gone.
As you entered the familiar battle stage, you realized something was wrong. No longer was Roland alone, dressed in the rags of a rat; now he was wearing respectable fixer gear surrounded by others bearing their own sharp, dangerous weapons.
You were too distracted by the person with the body of a sweeper to notice the gun being leveled at you. Three sharp shots left you in too much pain to move as Roland moved with a fluid grace he shouldn't have. Before you had a chance to fight, you were on the floor, your spear kicked out of reach. The last thing you saw was the nightmarish hooks of a sweeper swinging down towards your face.
_-_-_
“You know,” Roland said, taking a bite of the takeout that the ex-hamhampangpang guy brought. “I'm starting to think we shouldn't have killed that guy; this is really good.”
“We do have their book,” Angela pointed out. “We can create food out of that.”
“It just won't be the same,” Roland said. “There's a reason I found a way to make takeout orders in the first place.”
“We should probably tell the others that HamHamPangPang night is canceled until we find a new supplier,” Angela replied.
“Yeah, at least we've got food for tonight? You should take this box; I think you'll like it.”