Berry Musume Patreon Launch Teaser
A teaser post for the Berry Musume Patreon Page that is launching today.
For more details visit the link below.
https://www.patreon.com/BerryMusume
Monthly content will feature a piece of fiction in the style of a slice of life / harem anime, starring various characters. In addition a piece of artwork will also accompany the chapter, with line art by the veteran artist
Lushanni with colors and shading done by the impeccable
TheAssistant
Feel free to ask more questions in the comments section below.
Berry Musume
By The Producer
Chapter 1: Budding Relationships
Jean Teien hummed to himself as he knelt over the burbling water of the stream near his house. The recent rains had washed away part of the riverbed that contained a spread of morning glories, and now he was doing his best to clean and salvage what he could. He liked working with his hands in the dirt and weeds. Nearly all the vegetables he ate he grew for himself, and one day he swore he’d buy enough land for an orchard. He swept sweat stained black hair out of his eyes and wiped his forehead with a zokin hand towel that he kept in the front pocket of his overalls, before returning to pulling a lattice of half drowned morning glory vines out of the stream.
Propping the lattice up in the mid afternoon sun, he used a mallet to hammer it back into the soft soil near the bank of the stream. The flowers looked quite the worse for wear, all looking like closed up umbrellas, and he hoped that they’d survive their dunking. Sometimes all you could do was prop a flower up, then see if they were tough enough to make it. He wiped his hands on his overalls and then walked back to the house.
It was a large house, and old. It had been in his mother’s side of the family for over a century, and through a pair of misfortunes that he was still trying to forget, it had passed to him. Jean thought that he was the first in the family not entirely pureblooded Japanese to own the property. His father had been a French Algerian diplomat, and Jean favored his father in appearance, with a pronounced nose, olive skin and a seemingly permanent five o'clock shadow. He’d inherited his mother’s height however. She’d been a demure Japanese translator, and like her Jean didn’t stand an inch above 5’3”,
He’d been raised in the house and in Japan, both were as familiar to him as the stubble on his face. He kicked off his wellington boots before walking across the engawa outer corridor to the interior of his home. In the main entrance he removed his sweaty socks before putting on a pair of indoor slippers and shuffling through the quiet wood floored corridors to the bath.
Stripping off his clothes and sitting naked on a small stool he washed and scrubbed away the dirt, grime and sweat before rinsing with a bucket of water, until at last settling down in a large tub brimming with hot water. The ache of used muscles lessened as he leaned back, resting against the cedar wood of the tub.
He let his mind float in a kind of numb meditation; lifted atop the steam of the bath and the light sound of the stream which rippled in through an open window. Life in rural Japan was certainly idyllic.
Jean almost drifted off to sleep when he heard the soft whir of an automobile driving on the road near his house. The automobile was like a white noise that pervaded his meditation. Then the noise changed. The expected rise and then fade in volume didn’t happen, the vehicle continued to get louder, accompanied by a few bumps and rattles. Jean sat up. Whatever it was, it was driving up the small dirt path that led to the front of his house.
The creaking and rattle stopped, and seconds later, so did the engine. Jean sat up and snatched a towel off of the rack. If they turned off the engine then it wasn’t a package delivery, it was someone who wanted to speak to him. He rubbed his hair briefly with the towel, not drying it, just leaving it moderately damp. He patted himself with the towel as he sprinted for his bedroom, grabbing the first set of clothes he could find; a pair of exercise pants and an Osaka University T-shirt.
He was wrestling on the t-shirt when he heard the electronic pin-pon melody of his doorbell. Composing himself as best he could, Jean opened the front sliding door.
He’d expected perhaps a member of the police, or official of the statistics bureau. Maybe even a tourist. What Jean did not expect to see upon opening his door was a small army of workers piling out of a van and a moving truck.
An individual stood at the front of the door and bowed as soon as Jean opened it, meaning he didn’t get a good look at their face until they were both back on the upswing. He did catch the formal Japanese apology however.
“We’re sorry for the intrusion Teien-san, but may I please come inside and speak with you?”
Jean was taken aback by the suddenness of the request as much as he was surprised by the number of people now occupying his front yard and removing boxes from the moving truck.
“What, what is all this?”
He had a better look at the figure’s face now. They were a head taller than him, and wearing the formal suit that seemed to mark them as a government or business representative of some kind. They had an average build and while their face contained a respectful look, it still had an air of determination.
Their shoulder length hair flowed in straight neatly cut blonde locks that framed their slightly feminine face. They met Jean’s eyes through a pair of thick framed glasses, a file folder under one arm.
“I’d be happy to discuss this inside Teien-san.”
Jean didn’t know what else to do but nod and invite the stranger inside. The stranger bowed again politely and introduced themselves as they kicked off their shoes in the entrance way.
“Thank you Teien-san, I am Rene Applegate from the International Committee for Botanical Persons, the ICBE.”
Jean nodded, setting a bottle of water and green tea on the table in the large parlour of his house along with two glasses. Rene took an offered cup and accepted a pour of water before continuing.
“You studied botany when you were at school in Osaka? Part of your pre-med program I believe.”
Jean mumbled in confirmation.
“Yes, that was the plan, but I had to come back home to take care of my grandmother after, well after my parents died.”
Rene showed somber respect.
“Yes, my condolences. Your grandmother passed last year as well I believe. I’m sorry for your loss.”
The wound was a fresh one, but Jean could hear the genuine sympathy in the government worker’s voice.
“You seem remarkably well informed about me Applegate-san, may I ask why?”
Rene set down their water glass on the table.
“Are you familiar with what we do?”
Jean shrugged.
“You look after Botanical Persons.”
“That’s a bit of an oversimplification. We work hard to make sure that individuals who have undergone a botanical metamorphosis will be able to lead a rewarding and comfortable life regardless of their extra-biological condition. Recently international legislation was passed which require national governments to make an effort to afford Botanical Person’s something that might be better seen as what we’d call a “normal” life.”
Jean was an intelligent person and was already putting two and two together.
“And you want me to help with this somehow? I’m sorry but I’m not leaving my home. I want to live here in Magome-juku with my garden and my books. I don’t want to go to some botanical research facility in the city.”
The government rep smiled, and for the first time Jean saw the hint of a smirk on their face as they took another sip of water before continuing.
“That’s excellent to hear Teien-san. We have no intention of you leaving your ancestral home. According to paperwork filed recently, you applied for a government grant for restoration work to your house.”
Rene withdrew a form with Jean’s signature at the bottom.
“It was approved and repairs completed-”
They turned a page.
“-in May of this year. On page two, paragraph four one of the conditions of the grant was that the Japanese government may lease a maximum of eight rooms of your house for government purposes for one year in addition to your services should you be in residence.”
Jean remembered the paragraph, he’d been assured at the time that it was a clause that had never been invoked in the history of the grant.
“Are you telling me the government wishes to lease my property for a year?”
Rene nodded.
“Yes. As part of our effort we want to give Botanical Persons the ability to live in something more resembling a private residence; given your background with your experience in biology and botany along with your current living and marital status, you’re a prime candidate for a test program to afford those persons the capacity for a normal life.”
The suddenness of the news that his peaceful life would be completely upended by the government with no warning or so much as a please was beyond galling to Jean. This official had his signature on a document that gave them carte blanche on using Jean’s house for their own purposes. Deep down he knew that he didn’t have much of a choice, but for his own satisfaction he had to offer some kind of resistance.
“And if I refuse?”
Without missing a beat Rene turned the page.
“Refusal to honor the agreement of the original grant will result in the immediate repayment the entire sum or the forfeiture of property.”
Jean grit his teeth. He knew he didn’t have the money and was in the middle of formulating another objection, any other objection when Rene spoke up.
“Please Teien-san, I understand how sudden this all is. But understand that you will be helping real people who will be very grateful for the normalcy that you can provide. Would you at least agree to meet with one of the Botanical Persons who would be staying with you?”
Jean’s formal upbringing as the child of a diplomat and translator wouldn’t allow him to refuse no matter how offended he was by the rough way he’d been treated in the last ten minutes. He assented with a curt-
“Very well.”
Rene thanked him and then the two walked back to the entryway to the house.
The unpacking of the moving truck was still going on, and now the front yard was full of boxes and even some pieces of equipment he didnt recognize. To his disapproval Jean saw that a few boxes had been set down inside one of his flower beds. Rene instructed Jean to wait at the front of the house and then walked to the van.
It was then that Jean noticed a figure sitting in the front passenger seat who hadn’t exited with the rest of the workers. As Rene opened the window the figure stepped out and onto the hard packed dirt of the road to Jeans house.
Jean had never seen a Botanical Person before, known the world over by the more informal colloquialism “Berries” or “Berry People.” He knew that they were a randomly occurring phenomenon that affected a minute percentage of the population, and always thought that it was more than a little bit absurd. The whole condition was a great mystery to science and medicine, and all that Jean knew is that they were people who exhibited traits of plants, almost always a fruit or berry of some kind, and required special care because of it.
He hadn’t really known what to expect, and was certainly surprised by what stepped out of the van and approached him.
She was a full head taller than Jean with long black hair tied back with a lime green scrunchie. The color of her hair tie must have been a deliberate choice Jean decided; because this young woman was herself green, from her expressive grinning face to her trim athletic legs her skin was the same color as fresh sage. Over her face and other areas of exposed skin, were striped patches of a darker emerald that gave her flesh the overall appearance of the watermelons Jean was growing in his back garden.
As she began to walk with Rene back to Jean, the overall impression the still disgruntled homeowner received was of foreign athleticism. She was wearing rugged hiking boots, long white socks and khaki shorts. Over one shoulder she had a well worn backpack and athletic bag, while one hand held a nalgene water bottle. Her gray t-shirt had a logo of a runner on it with the text UCSB Cross Country on it. The shirt was seemingly a size too small, as the logo was stretched over the woman’s rather substantial chest. The stranger was looking all around, taking in the surrounding natural beauty of the rural town, marvelling at the woods and remote fields.
She was absolutely beaming at Rene and when she saw Jean’s scowl it did nothing to dampen her mood, she actually waved. Despite his mood, something compelled Jean to wave back, though he didn’t smile.
Arriving in front of his house the woman clasped both her hands together and did a quick bobbing bow which matched her face and appearance in its energy.
“It’s nice to meet you Teien-san. My name is Midori Cooper!”
A cynical voice in Jean's head laughed. Of course her name is Midori, he thought. How absurd.
Remembering his manners Jean bowed back and invited her into the house. Midori made another bow of thanks along with an offhand thanks. When she spoke he noticed that her speech was heavily accented; he judged from her voice, height, mannerisms and seeming passing understanding of cultural norms that she was American.
Walking inside the trio returned to the table, Midori began to speak the second she sat down.
“Thank you for agreeing to speak with me Teien-san, I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate it. I’ve been stuck in the Yokosuka care facility ever since my change happened a year ago and it means so much to finally have the chance to get out to the country. It’s really beautiful out here, and quiet. I have heard so many good things about the Nakasendo trail and I’ve been looking forward to seeing it myself!”
Midori spoke very rapidly, and Jean was taken aback. Her tone was so divergent from the conversation he’d had moments before with Rene, and now despite himself he found that her enthusiasm was in fact a little infectious.
“How old is your house Teien-san?”
“It’s been remodeled a few times-”
Jean glanced at the grant paperwork still sitting on the table while Midori sipped some of the offered water that had been set out earlier.
“-but the foundation dates back to the Edo period.”
Midori’s eyes sparkled.
“Wow! That’s amazing! It must be hard work keeping it all kept up by yourself.”
Jean nodded.
“Yes, it is rather difficult sometimes but I enjoy it.”
“May I see more? It’s been so long since I’ve seen anything aside from Yokosuka harbor.”
Jean coughed.
“Well I-”
At that point Rene spoke up.
“Teien-san hasn’t yet agreed to allow his house to be a host site yet. I don’t think we should intrude too much on his privacy Cooper-san.”
Jean raised a hand.
“No, no it’s fine. Let us go.”
The three stood, and for a second Jean thought he saw a smirk like the one he’d seen before cross Rene’s face.
Jean walked them through his house, the seven guestrooms, the master bedroom, and then walking out into the rear courtyard facing the stream.
As soon as they set foot onto the wood floored engawa, an corridor that wrapped around the house Midori pointed out towards the stream.
“Morning Glories! They’re my favorite. How strange to see them blooming like that so late in the day.”
Jean followed Midori’s gesture, to see his half drowned lattice of flowers where he’d left it. Perplexed, he stared. They were indeed in full bloom, despite the sun hanging low in the late afternoon sky.
Jean spoke under his breath.
“Yes, very strange. They normally close up around noon.”
CONTINUED ON PATREON
For more details visit the link below.
https://www.patreon.com/BerryMusume
Monthly content will feature a piece of fiction in the style of a slice of life / harem anime, starring various characters. In addition a piece of artwork will also accompany the chapter, with line art by the veteran artist
Lushanni with colors and shading done by the impeccable
TheAssistantFeel free to ask more questions in the comments section below.
Berry Musume
By The Producer
Chapter 1: Budding Relationships
Jean Teien hummed to himself as he knelt over the burbling water of the stream near his house. The recent rains had washed away part of the riverbed that contained a spread of morning glories, and now he was doing his best to clean and salvage what he could. He liked working with his hands in the dirt and weeds. Nearly all the vegetables he ate he grew for himself, and one day he swore he’d buy enough land for an orchard. He swept sweat stained black hair out of his eyes and wiped his forehead with a zokin hand towel that he kept in the front pocket of his overalls, before returning to pulling a lattice of half drowned morning glory vines out of the stream.
Propping the lattice up in the mid afternoon sun, he used a mallet to hammer it back into the soft soil near the bank of the stream. The flowers looked quite the worse for wear, all looking like closed up umbrellas, and he hoped that they’d survive their dunking. Sometimes all you could do was prop a flower up, then see if they were tough enough to make it. He wiped his hands on his overalls and then walked back to the house.
It was a large house, and old. It had been in his mother’s side of the family for over a century, and through a pair of misfortunes that he was still trying to forget, it had passed to him. Jean thought that he was the first in the family not entirely pureblooded Japanese to own the property. His father had been a French Algerian diplomat, and Jean favored his father in appearance, with a pronounced nose, olive skin and a seemingly permanent five o'clock shadow. He’d inherited his mother’s height however. She’d been a demure Japanese translator, and like her Jean didn’t stand an inch above 5’3”,
He’d been raised in the house and in Japan, both were as familiar to him as the stubble on his face. He kicked off his wellington boots before walking across the engawa outer corridor to the interior of his home. In the main entrance he removed his sweaty socks before putting on a pair of indoor slippers and shuffling through the quiet wood floored corridors to the bath.
Stripping off his clothes and sitting naked on a small stool he washed and scrubbed away the dirt, grime and sweat before rinsing with a bucket of water, until at last settling down in a large tub brimming with hot water. The ache of used muscles lessened as he leaned back, resting against the cedar wood of the tub.
He let his mind float in a kind of numb meditation; lifted atop the steam of the bath and the light sound of the stream which rippled in through an open window. Life in rural Japan was certainly idyllic.
Jean almost drifted off to sleep when he heard the soft whir of an automobile driving on the road near his house. The automobile was like a white noise that pervaded his meditation. Then the noise changed. The expected rise and then fade in volume didn’t happen, the vehicle continued to get louder, accompanied by a few bumps and rattles. Jean sat up. Whatever it was, it was driving up the small dirt path that led to the front of his house.
The creaking and rattle stopped, and seconds later, so did the engine. Jean sat up and snatched a towel off of the rack. If they turned off the engine then it wasn’t a package delivery, it was someone who wanted to speak to him. He rubbed his hair briefly with the towel, not drying it, just leaving it moderately damp. He patted himself with the towel as he sprinted for his bedroom, grabbing the first set of clothes he could find; a pair of exercise pants and an Osaka University T-shirt.
He was wrestling on the t-shirt when he heard the electronic pin-pon melody of his doorbell. Composing himself as best he could, Jean opened the front sliding door.
He’d expected perhaps a member of the police, or official of the statistics bureau. Maybe even a tourist. What Jean did not expect to see upon opening his door was a small army of workers piling out of a van and a moving truck.
An individual stood at the front of the door and bowed as soon as Jean opened it, meaning he didn’t get a good look at their face until they were both back on the upswing. He did catch the formal Japanese apology however.
“We’re sorry for the intrusion Teien-san, but may I please come inside and speak with you?”
Jean was taken aback by the suddenness of the request as much as he was surprised by the number of people now occupying his front yard and removing boxes from the moving truck.
“What, what is all this?”
He had a better look at the figure’s face now. They were a head taller than him, and wearing the formal suit that seemed to mark them as a government or business representative of some kind. They had an average build and while their face contained a respectful look, it still had an air of determination.
Their shoulder length hair flowed in straight neatly cut blonde locks that framed their slightly feminine face. They met Jean’s eyes through a pair of thick framed glasses, a file folder under one arm.
“I’d be happy to discuss this inside Teien-san.”
Jean didn’t know what else to do but nod and invite the stranger inside. The stranger bowed again politely and introduced themselves as they kicked off their shoes in the entrance way.
“Thank you Teien-san, I am Rene Applegate from the International Committee for Botanical Persons, the ICBE.”
Jean nodded, setting a bottle of water and green tea on the table in the large parlour of his house along with two glasses. Rene took an offered cup and accepted a pour of water before continuing.
“You studied botany when you were at school in Osaka? Part of your pre-med program I believe.”
Jean mumbled in confirmation.
“Yes, that was the plan, but I had to come back home to take care of my grandmother after, well after my parents died.”
Rene showed somber respect.
“Yes, my condolences. Your grandmother passed last year as well I believe. I’m sorry for your loss.”
The wound was a fresh one, but Jean could hear the genuine sympathy in the government worker’s voice.
“You seem remarkably well informed about me Applegate-san, may I ask why?”
Rene set down their water glass on the table.
“Are you familiar with what we do?”
Jean shrugged.
“You look after Botanical Persons.”
“That’s a bit of an oversimplification. We work hard to make sure that individuals who have undergone a botanical metamorphosis will be able to lead a rewarding and comfortable life regardless of their extra-biological condition. Recently international legislation was passed which require national governments to make an effort to afford Botanical Person’s something that might be better seen as what we’d call a “normal” life.”
Jean was an intelligent person and was already putting two and two together.
“And you want me to help with this somehow? I’m sorry but I’m not leaving my home. I want to live here in Magome-juku with my garden and my books. I don’t want to go to some botanical research facility in the city.”
The government rep smiled, and for the first time Jean saw the hint of a smirk on their face as they took another sip of water before continuing.
“That’s excellent to hear Teien-san. We have no intention of you leaving your ancestral home. According to paperwork filed recently, you applied for a government grant for restoration work to your house.”
Rene withdrew a form with Jean’s signature at the bottom.
“It was approved and repairs completed-”
They turned a page.
“-in May of this year. On page two, paragraph four one of the conditions of the grant was that the Japanese government may lease a maximum of eight rooms of your house for government purposes for one year in addition to your services should you be in residence.”
Jean remembered the paragraph, he’d been assured at the time that it was a clause that had never been invoked in the history of the grant.
“Are you telling me the government wishes to lease my property for a year?”
Rene nodded.
“Yes. As part of our effort we want to give Botanical Persons the ability to live in something more resembling a private residence; given your background with your experience in biology and botany along with your current living and marital status, you’re a prime candidate for a test program to afford those persons the capacity for a normal life.”
The suddenness of the news that his peaceful life would be completely upended by the government with no warning or so much as a please was beyond galling to Jean. This official had his signature on a document that gave them carte blanche on using Jean’s house for their own purposes. Deep down he knew that he didn’t have much of a choice, but for his own satisfaction he had to offer some kind of resistance.
“And if I refuse?”
Without missing a beat Rene turned the page.
“Refusal to honor the agreement of the original grant will result in the immediate repayment the entire sum or the forfeiture of property.”
Jean grit his teeth. He knew he didn’t have the money and was in the middle of formulating another objection, any other objection when Rene spoke up.
“Please Teien-san, I understand how sudden this all is. But understand that you will be helping real people who will be very grateful for the normalcy that you can provide. Would you at least agree to meet with one of the Botanical Persons who would be staying with you?”
Jean’s formal upbringing as the child of a diplomat and translator wouldn’t allow him to refuse no matter how offended he was by the rough way he’d been treated in the last ten minutes. He assented with a curt-
“Very well.”
Rene thanked him and then the two walked back to the entryway to the house.
The unpacking of the moving truck was still going on, and now the front yard was full of boxes and even some pieces of equipment he didnt recognize. To his disapproval Jean saw that a few boxes had been set down inside one of his flower beds. Rene instructed Jean to wait at the front of the house and then walked to the van.
It was then that Jean noticed a figure sitting in the front passenger seat who hadn’t exited with the rest of the workers. As Rene opened the window the figure stepped out and onto the hard packed dirt of the road to Jeans house.
Jean had never seen a Botanical Person before, known the world over by the more informal colloquialism “Berries” or “Berry People.” He knew that they were a randomly occurring phenomenon that affected a minute percentage of the population, and always thought that it was more than a little bit absurd. The whole condition was a great mystery to science and medicine, and all that Jean knew is that they were people who exhibited traits of plants, almost always a fruit or berry of some kind, and required special care because of it.
He hadn’t really known what to expect, and was certainly surprised by what stepped out of the van and approached him.
She was a full head taller than Jean with long black hair tied back with a lime green scrunchie. The color of her hair tie must have been a deliberate choice Jean decided; because this young woman was herself green, from her expressive grinning face to her trim athletic legs her skin was the same color as fresh sage. Over her face and other areas of exposed skin, were striped patches of a darker emerald that gave her flesh the overall appearance of the watermelons Jean was growing in his back garden.
As she began to walk with Rene back to Jean, the overall impression the still disgruntled homeowner received was of foreign athleticism. She was wearing rugged hiking boots, long white socks and khaki shorts. Over one shoulder she had a well worn backpack and athletic bag, while one hand held a nalgene water bottle. Her gray t-shirt had a logo of a runner on it with the text UCSB Cross Country on it. The shirt was seemingly a size too small, as the logo was stretched over the woman’s rather substantial chest. The stranger was looking all around, taking in the surrounding natural beauty of the rural town, marvelling at the woods and remote fields.
She was absolutely beaming at Rene and when she saw Jean’s scowl it did nothing to dampen her mood, she actually waved. Despite his mood, something compelled Jean to wave back, though he didn’t smile.
Arriving in front of his house the woman clasped both her hands together and did a quick bobbing bow which matched her face and appearance in its energy.
“It’s nice to meet you Teien-san. My name is Midori Cooper!”
A cynical voice in Jean's head laughed. Of course her name is Midori, he thought. How absurd.
Remembering his manners Jean bowed back and invited her into the house. Midori made another bow of thanks along with an offhand thanks. When she spoke he noticed that her speech was heavily accented; he judged from her voice, height, mannerisms and seeming passing understanding of cultural norms that she was American.
Walking inside the trio returned to the table, Midori began to speak the second she sat down.
“Thank you for agreeing to speak with me Teien-san, I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate it. I’ve been stuck in the Yokosuka care facility ever since my change happened a year ago and it means so much to finally have the chance to get out to the country. It’s really beautiful out here, and quiet. I have heard so many good things about the Nakasendo trail and I’ve been looking forward to seeing it myself!”
Midori spoke very rapidly, and Jean was taken aback. Her tone was so divergent from the conversation he’d had moments before with Rene, and now despite himself he found that her enthusiasm was in fact a little infectious.
“How old is your house Teien-san?”
“It’s been remodeled a few times-”
Jean glanced at the grant paperwork still sitting on the table while Midori sipped some of the offered water that had been set out earlier.
“-but the foundation dates back to the Edo period.”
Midori’s eyes sparkled.
“Wow! That’s amazing! It must be hard work keeping it all kept up by yourself.”
Jean nodded.
“Yes, it is rather difficult sometimes but I enjoy it.”
“May I see more? It’s been so long since I’ve seen anything aside from Yokosuka harbor.”
Jean coughed.
“Well I-”
At that point Rene spoke up.
“Teien-san hasn’t yet agreed to allow his house to be a host site yet. I don’t think we should intrude too much on his privacy Cooper-san.”
Jean raised a hand.
“No, no it’s fine. Let us go.”
The three stood, and for a second Jean thought he saw a smirk like the one he’d seen before cross Rene’s face.
Jean walked them through his house, the seven guestrooms, the master bedroom, and then walking out into the rear courtyard facing the stream.
As soon as they set foot onto the wood floored engawa, an corridor that wrapped around the house Midori pointed out towards the stream.
“Morning Glories! They’re my favorite. How strange to see them blooming like that so late in the day.”
Jean followed Midori’s gesture, to see his half drowned lattice of flowers where he’d left it. Perplexed, he stared. They were indeed in full bloom, despite the sun hanging low in the late afternoon sky.
Jean spoke under his breath.
“Yes, very strange. They normally close up around noon.”
CONTINUED ON PATREON
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