Mail Rush

Spoiler:

Haraka let out a deep breath. He as originally gone there to sell some things, but now he felt ready to go home. Well, that's how he felt until spotting someone in a mail delivery uniform looking very distraught. Why was that? Also, why did their vehicle look to be smoking? Maybe it wasn't in as bad of a condition as it looked... But the closer Omaras got to the vehicle, the more plain it became that it wasn't moving anytime soon. The mailman rushed over to him, hands grabbing tightly to one of the demons sleeves. "Please, my vehicle overheated! I only have twenty seven houses left, but I need to fix my truck. I don't have much money, but-"
The demon didn't like interrupting, but the idea of someone thinking money was required to help someone bothered him. Then again, the determined expression on the mailmans face made him think that saying 'I'll do it for free' wouldn't exactly be accepted. "-I will deliver the remaining mail." The mail person gave him a hug, peppering him with thank yous before handing him a bag.  From the shape, it could be assumed inside contained both letters and boxes.

So this was how a member of the west fiore trading company was temporarily made into a mailman. Well, his guild would probably not find out about it? Though finding out about it likely wouldn't be an issue. This could technically count as a job. This is what he thought as the demon was handed the route list and told which houses were remaining. This was probably to avoid time wasted, so people could get their mail when they expect it. Well, even in a job like this, did he not have to try his best? So the mantis shrimp demon started running. The first house was easy, the second houses dog was easy to calm down. So far this seemed easy enough to do this by foot. By the eighth house he was feeling tired from running, but didn't he have to try his best? He summoned a dragon fruit, using his nails to cut it in half. He ate the soft fruit insides fast, tucking the peel away to dispose of later. That helped him feel refreshed, it was good enough to keep him going until the fifteenth house.

At least he had a bottle of juice on him. Omaras took a quick break from running and delivering mail to open his juice and take a deep drink from it. It was only one gulps worth, but it was fairly refreshing. After that the bottle was tucked away before he got back to running. This time he had enough energy to finish the remaining houses, but after that... it felt safe to just... walk back to the mailman. His lungs burned and body felt sore. Why had he done that? But... at least everyone had their mail and Haraka had the pleasure of knowing that he had helped someone out.

Wordcount: 501