Bab 184: Sorry, But I Have A Cooking Job To Do

Someone is stealing an electric bike? No, there are no electric bikes in this world. But the alarm…

My bike! Mag became worried and quickened his pace. He hated bike thieves—he had lost several pro race bikes to them, and some of them were limited-edition models.

When he reached the gate, he was surprised to find his bike being surrounded by many people who were craning their necks to get a better look. Some were parents, some were teachers, and others were probably just passers-by.

The alarm was still ringing, with the screeching of the cat.

Mag raised an eyebrow. What's going on?!

"I'm sorry, I…" the old man said apologetically to Mag.

It's just a bike. No need for all this fuss. Mag didn't understand.

"Mr. Hydle, the owner is here!" the orc shouted to the crowd.

"Please disperse. There's nothing to see here," Hydle said. Then the crowd parted and looked at Mag.