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Lucas listened intently, jotting down the important posts in his head.

"And where are the boys?" Ricardo asked with some curiosity.

"The boys?... The boys are on a totally different level" Said the cook.

"So you make us special food?" Lucas asked with some innocence.

"Ha ha ha!! No, you guys cook what you eat"

"I don't cook for you two, Ha ha ha!!" Said the cook, letting out some raucous laughter, although to his misfortune the boys seemed to have no more desire to talk after the mockery.

The cook noticed that the two boys seemed to be quite quiet or shy, so they hardly spoke, which was beginning to annoy him due to the awkward silences that occurred.

*The knife goes in, the thorn comes out* ....*The knife goes in, the thorn comes out* ....*The knife goes in, the thorn comes out* ....

Finally, the cook could not bear the boredom and commented

"By the way, boy, they told me that the castaway we took in was a member of the church, but your hands don't seem to be" said The Cook trying to come up with a topic to pass the time.

"What are you talking about?" Lucas said a little nervously as the sweet potato fell from his hand and he looked for it in the box, trying to hide his hands from the cook in a childish way.

"Look at my hand's boy, do you notice anything?" Said the cook, showing a pair of calloused hands covered in fish blood, the highlight being his fingers that were as fat as sausages.

"You mean the tripe? ...." Ricardo asked as he lazily peeled the sweet potatoes.

"Ah... Now I understand it's not normal for people from the church to do heavy work because they have fine hands" I guess Ricardo.

Lucas seemed quite nervous and took a while before answering, as if he were looking for what words to say next.

"Mmm...I wasn't always part of the church, like many kids I wasn't lucky in childhood, and I was forced to look for life at a very young age" Lucas said as he stared at the sweet potato that had fallen, as if looking to hide the look.

"And why did you leave home?" Ricardo asked as he stopped peeling the sweet potato that he had in his hand, showing interest in the answer.

"It's not that I wanted to leave, rather my father kicked me out when I was 13" Lucas answered with less nervousness.

"So you're one of my kind boy, an honorable member of the drunken parents club" The cook said with a self-mocking smile on his face as his hands nimbly began to cut the fish into squares.

"Did they kick you out of your house too, fat man?" Robert asked.

"Surely it was because he ate a lot" murmured the malnourished Lucas a little more cheering

Laughing a little at the comment about his weight, the cook continued, "If they kicked me in the ass and threw me directly in the street at 14"

"Already when I was 15 I was an expert cutting fish in the port of Los Santos although if I'm honest it was more to pay me some whore and not so much for food, that was not lacking in Los Santos"

A smile was drawn on the cook's face, as if those hard times were already too far away to reach him.

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