A dull, alcohol-laced voice crept from the doorway: "Slacking off again Don't you want your pay",The ceiling fan whirred feebly, emitting a grating groan as it struggled to turn. Pushing open the door, Heather's gaze fell upon the figure behind the counter.,Izana instinctively gathered her ki in her eyes, focusing on Heather who was arguing with Old Jack while picking up scattered merchandise by the shelves.。