The next day, the morning aura enveloped the Fairy Tail Guild. Chen Fan sat at the reception desk, next to Makarov, whose eyes were half-closed, enjoying the hustle and bustle around them. Chen Fan observed the lively Guild atmosphere, feeling there was something amiss, yet he couldn't quite grasp it. Seeing Makarov's faint smile, watching the familiar chaos, Chen Fan muttered to himself, "Isn't this old man bored, I wonder? Or is this just how a Guild Master spends his days?"
Wait, boredom! Yes, that was it! A wave of boredom surged, making Chen Fan feel deeply uncomfortable. This feeling of idleness was poison to his soul, which had once been accustomed to life-and-death pressure. After much thought, he realized he had to do something.
Natsu and Gray had already invited him to play, offering childish delights that ignored the world. But how could Chen Fan agree? He had, after all, lived a harsh adult life in another world. "No way am I playing with these kids," he thought, a faint expression of disgust flitting across his face. He had even wanted to chat with the older Guild members, seeking more mature connections, but they just treated him like a cute child and constantly wanted to tease him. "Tsk, weirdos."
Suddenly, an epiphany struck Chen Fan, like a bolt of wisdom. He slapped his forehead, a small poof sounding in his mind. "Damn! I forgot! I was supposed to give someone a makeover yesterday! And there were some private orders too!" Instantly, he understood why some Guild members were staring at him with annoyed eyes this morning, as if he were a promise-breaking demon.
He turned to Makarov, seeing the Master still engrossed in watching Guild members quarrel or chat, with a contented smile. "This old man must be senile," Chen Fan thought, "otherwise, there's no way he could be this relaxed. Or is he just pretending not to hear?"
"Guild Master! Guild Master! Guild Master!!!"
Initially, Chen Fan called Makarov in a softer tone, a whisper almost inaudible amidst the crowd. Seeing Makarov ignore him, lost in his own world, Chen Fan couldn't help but raise his voice, calling again, louder. But Makarov remained unmoved, as if there was an invisible wall between them. Chen Fan's patience snapped. He glared, his eyes narrowed like a cat ready to pounce, and yelled loudly at Makarov.
CRASH!
Chen Fan's shout startled Makarov, who immediately fell off the table with a loud thud, like a sack of hay. Slowly, he got up from the floor, returned to the table, rubbed his aching back, then rubbed his ears, as if he had just been struck by lightning. "Oh, Chen Fan," he said, somewhat dazed, still processing what had just happened. "What's wrong...?"
Chen Fan leaned his face closer to Makarov, grinning. "Guild Master, look! Everyone in our Guild is so enthusiastic, youthful, and… passionate!" He paused for a moment, searching for the right flattering adjectives, a struggle clearly visible on his face, like a student grappling with an exam. This truly exhausted Chen Fan, who hadn't even finished elementary school in his previous life.
Seeing Makarov nod in agreement, with a proud smile on his face—feeling his bait had worked—Chen Fan's face displayed a truly vulgar, lewd smile, an expression that could make even demons shudder.
Suddenly, Makarov felt a chill run through his body, a bad premonition flashing through his mind. He looked around cautiously, but when Makarov turned his head, Chen Fan's face had already transformed into an expression of perfect admiration and respect, without a trace of cunning.
Seeing nothing unusual about Chen Fan, Makarov whispered, "Chen Fan, did you feel a cold gust of wind?"
Chen Fan was surprised at first, but then his eyes darted, as if thinking of something important, a wicked idea that had just bloomed. Chen Fan's expression turned serious. He said to Makarov, "Guild Master, have you often felt cold all over your body lately?"
After seeing Makarov nod, Chen Fan continued in a dramatic tone, like a skilled narrator recounting a tragic fate. "This is 'Cold Epilepsy,' a common condition among the elderly. It's a very serious disease! Only 'Legendary Seizures' can rival it. Patients often feel piercing cold winds!"
Seeing Makarov's indifferent expression, a sign that Makarov wasn't fully convinced yet, Chen Fan said with a much more serious expression, "Of course, that's just the initial stage! But in the final stage, patients will experience full-body seizures, foaming at the mouth, and… mild dementia!"
After speaking, he crossed his fingers, rolled his eyes upwards, and parted his lips, imitating the expression of an idiot. Because he didn't control his mouth well, he accidentally let out a drop of drool, a droplet that fell onto his chin, which made Makarov's heart pound.
"In severe cases, they can become… unrecognizable to their six relatives! They will kill anyone they see, and always… rape first, then kill. If it's a woman, it's still better. But if it's a man..."
Before he could finish his sentence, Makarov's face had turned pale, blood seeming to drain from his face. He clutched Chen Fan's hand and wouldn't let go, shaking him vigorously, and said with tears streaming down his face, "Chen Fan! Save me! Please save me! Save meeee!"
"You are my Guild Master, of course I will save you," Chen Fan said, his face radiating light, like a compassionate Buddha. But then his face immediately darkened, like a dark cloud obscuring the sun, and he said, "But I don't have the tools!"
"No tools? Then buy them!" Makarov exclaimed, a new hope igniting in his eyes.
"I want to, but..." Chen Fan rubbed his right thumb and forefinger back and forth, making the universal gesture for 'money'.
But Makarov didn't seem to see anything, saying, "But what?"
Chen Fan was somewhat confused. "Could it be that Earth's universal language doesn't work here?!" So he leaned closer to Makarov's ear and whispered, "But I don't have any money."
"NO MONEY?! Why didn't you say so earlier?! I have plenty!" Makarov's face looked righteous and generous, as if he were a knight in shining armor arriving just in time. "As expected of a big Guild boss," Chen Fan thought, "look at this! He's so rich, so rich!"
"Tell me, how many gold coins do you need?"
THUD!
Chen Fan fell off the table and onto the ground, a small, unexpected shock. But he immediately rushed back and jumped beside Makarov, his face radiating anger, like a dragon awakened from its slumber. He grabbed Makarov by the neck and said fiercely, "Tell me, do you want money or your life?!"
In the end, under Chen Fan's threats and the various benefits he promised—an effective 'carrot and stick' approach—Makarov obediently pulled out all his private money stash, a glittering pile of coins, then lay on the ground, sobbing, like a puppy who had lost its toy.
"SHUT UP! YOUR CRYING ANNOYS ME!" Chen Fan roared at Makarov's crying, his voice piercing like a sword. Makarov seemed startled by Chen Fan and stopped crying, though he still let out soft whimpers, his expression like an abused small wife.
Chen Fan didn't even glance at him. He spat a little, then carefully counted some small bills scattered in his hand. The more he counted, the more Chen Fan felt disdain. "A Guild this big, but his personal money is only this much? I wonder how Makarov managed to become Guild Master," he thought.
Ignoring Makarov's resentful glare piercing his back, he waved the money in front of Makarov's eyes, a cruel dance of cash. Makarov's eyes followed Chen Fan's hand, and finally, with Makarov's eyes filled with tears, Chen Fan slipped the money into his pocket and walked out of the Guild.
Since coming to Fairy Tail, he hadn't properly looked around Magnolia city. But he wasn't familiar with the place, so who should he ask? Chen Fan pondered deeply at the main entrance of Fairy Tail Guild, making passersby quite curious about the small figure deep in thought.
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