Chapter 42: Barbershop Owner Goldie

In the past, to conserve water, the four children and the body’s original owner had never afforded themselves the luxury of bathing with a large basin of water each, as they had done today.

Their complexions had already improved significantly after a few days of proper nourishment. Now, completely scrubbed clean, the four children looked entirely reborn, radiating a dazzling vitality!

Firestone, the second oldest, had rosy cheeks. With his thick, dark eyebrows and bright, spirited eyes, he resembled a sturdy little calf—so robust it put one’s mind at ease.

Zephyr, the third child, seemed to have been touched by magic after his bath, his striking good looks fully on display. His peach-blossom eyes shimmered with an even more captivating light, and his once-pale lips had turned a glossy cherry pink. Looking at him, Sev Steele couldn’t help but marvel inwardly, "Give this kid a few more years, and he’s going to break hearts across the nation with those looks!"

Rose, the youngest, had completely transformed into a radiant porcelain doll. The Wood Ability nourished all living things, including the wielder; ever since her Ability awakened, her skin had undergone a qualitative leap. Her naturally curly black hair was no longer dry and brittle. Instead, it flowed as smooth and lustrous as dark silk, making her large, clear azure eyes even more striking. She stood there quietly, looking like a little elf straight out of a fairy tale, making one want to scoop her up into a tight, affectionate hug.

Sev’s gaze finally settled on Rusty, the eldest, and a wave of profound emotion washed over her. In the past, to take care of his three younger siblings, this child had always given them his share of their limited food and tried to shoulder the brunt of the physical labor. Because of this, when she first saw him, he had looked completely emaciated. Now, after a few days of eating full meals, sleeping properly, and no longer having to work endlessly, his sharp chin had softened into a gentle curve. His dull, dark gold eyes now shone brilliantly—stare into them too long, and it felt as though you might be pulled right in.

The only flaw was his hair, which had been butchered into a jagged mess by some blunt tool. Sev decided that before taking him to the supermarket today, she would first find a barbershop to fix his hair.

Since they didn’t have a mirror in the house, Sev pulled Rusty over to the water basin to look at his reflection.

"Look at how handsome my eldest son is! When we go out later, you better stand up straight for your old lady. Don’t let anyone look down on you!" Sev said, barely maintaining the last remnants of her predecessor’s harsh persona.

Rusty stared at his reflection in the basin, somewhat in disbelief. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen his own face in the water before, but every time he had, it was a pale, withered, and lifeless visage. Now, however, the boy in the water had handsome features and a healthy glow to his skin. Most importantly, the corners of his lips were actually turned upward, holding a faint, barely-there smile.

He subconsciously glanced back at Sev. His adoptive mother’s behavior over the past few days was better than the most beautiful dreams he had ever dared to have. Was she really still that evil woman who loved to beat, scold, and mistreat them?

In this moment, a sudden wave of panic gripped Rusty’s heart. He wondered if she had been possessed by a female ghost, like the ones in the scary stories the adults told. The very thought startled him! But then he reasoned that even if she were possessed by a female ghost, she was definitely a good one. Rusty even found himself hoping that the ghost would occupy the bad woman’s body forever and be their mother for all eternity.

Sev led Rusty toward The Golden Scissors Barbershop, a place she recalled from her predecessor’s memories.

The outer wall of the Ninth Security Zone was circular. The very center of this circle was The Gilded Ward, and outside The Gilded Ward lay a secondary defensive wall. It was said that this inner wall was a hundred times sturdier than the outer perimeter; even if a massive Beast Tide struck and forcibly breached the outer defenses, it would never penetrate this second layer.

The Slums were located just outside this inner wall. Housing in The Slums was divided into strict tiers: Sector A, Zone B, Area C, and Area D. Sev currently lived in Area D, the absolute lowest tier. Sitting on the very outskirts of the security zone, pressed right up against the outer defensive wall, Area D was always the first to suffer at the slightest sign of trouble.

Orphans, widows, the elderly, the weak, the sick, and the disabled could all apply for housing in Area D. Homes in the other three sectors, however, had to be exchanged for Contribution Points.

The Golden Scissors Barbershop was located in Sector A, right in the neighborhood closest to The Gilded Ward. The owner’s skills were a family legacy. His father, Mr. King, had been quite a good barber, and after Mr. King’s death, Goldie took over the small shop. Goldie had outshone his father, proving to be an even better barber. Over time, he earned the nickname "Golden Scissors," and people eventually forgot his real name altogether.

Mr. Goldie’s skills were excellent, and his prices were affordable. Even some of the less affluent residents of The Gilded Ward chose to come to him for haircuts, as he charged far less than the barbershops in their district. However, truly wealthy families would never stoop so low as to visit a barbershop in The Slums; they simply couldn’t afford the loss of face.

Holding Rusty’s hand, Sev walked toward The Golden Scissors Barbershop with her head held high, moving with steady and measured strides. Infected by her imposing aura, Rusty finally mustered the courage to lift his head.

It was a little past 1:00 PM, and there were only two customers in the shop—a man and a woman. The male customer was wearing a hair steamer cap, resting with his eyes closed. Hearing the commotion, he opened his eyes. The moment he caught a glimpse of what Sev and her son were wearing out of the corner of his eye, a look of outright disdain crossed his face, and he went back to resting his eyes. The female customer, her head full of curling irons, also turned to look, only to immediately snap her head back around with an expression of disgust.

With a single glance, Sev could tell from their attire that both of them were from The Gilded Ward. It wasn’t surprising, really. The people in The Slums were busy trying to make a living every day. Even those living in Sector A would be hard at work at this hour; they wouldn’t have the free time to get a haircut. Since they were all paying customers, she couldn’t be bothered to engage with them and looked directly at the shop owner instead.

The boss, Mr. Goldie, was in his early thirties. He had sharp, well-defined features, deep-set eyes, and a clean, crisp jawline. He exuded an aura of mature composure. His short, silver-gray gradient hair was trimmed with distinct layers and no unnecessary styling, making him look sharp, rugged, and brimming with confidence. The most striking thing about him, however, was his hands. With pronounced knuckles and long, slender, well-proportioned fingers, it was visually pleasing just to watch him casually run his hands through a customer’s hair.

Sev felt a brief pang of regret. If he were on Azure, he could absolutely be a hand model and act as a spokesperson for major luxury jewelry brands.

The moment Sev had brought Rusty through the door, the two customers’ eyes had darted toward them. But upon noting their outfits, both customers quickly redirected their attention to Mr. Goldie, blatantly ignoring the mother and son.

Mr. Goldie, on the other hand, put on a professional smile and greeted them, "Ma’am, are you looking to get a haircut?"

"I’d like to get my son a nice haircut. As you can see, my own handiwork is absolutely terrible," Sev replied candidly, offering him a warm smile.

Her candor took Mr. Goldie somewhat by surprise. The child’s hair did indeed look as if it had been chewed on by a dog; one glance was enough to tell it had been hacked apart at home with some blunt instrument. But for the culprit to so openly admit that this was her masterpiece made him look at her in a new light.

"Please, have a seat and rest over there for a moment. I’ll be right with you," Mr. Goldie said politely, gesturing to a long bench nearby.

The bench was lined with a woven rattan cushion. Unfortunately, the weaver’s technique was far too crude, relying on nothing more than the most basic crisscross pattern. The surface of the cushion was lumpy and uneven, looking so loose and flimsy that it seemed ready to fall apart at any moment. The craftsmanship left much to be desired.