As the day passed and more customers filtered in, Vahn couldn't help but be fascinated by the people he met. Each was stranger than the last.
The next patron was an old man, hunched with age, yet radiating an aura that screamed power. His long beard swept the floor, and he carried a strange walking stick made of what looked like jade. A cultivator.
He walked up to the counter and examined the shelf of instant noodles. "The flavor," he said aloud, his voice full of reverence, "which one would be worthy of an immortal?"
The cashier raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The cultivator picked up a pack of spicy noodles, then another pack of soy sauce noodles, and then he began his debate with himself over which to choose.
After several long minutes of contemplation, he selected the spicy noodles and paid with a small, glowing crystal that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. The cashier didn't blink an eye as he accepted the payment.
Vahn stood speechless. The cultivator walked past him, still debating silently with himself over which flavor of noodles to try.