Morning in Briggon usually came with noise.
Scooters buzzing down narrow streets. Shopkeepers pulling up metal shutters. The smell of fried dough and soy milk drifting through the air.
But that morning felt… different.
When Eli pulled his scooter into the small parking space beside The Corner Pocket, the street across from him looked like a festival.
A massive red banner hung across the entrance of SuperMartX.
GRAND COMMUNITY WEEK
ESSENTIALS AT COMMUNITY PRICES
Below it, a digital screen flashed bright numbers.
Eggs — 4 Yuan
Milk — 3.5 Yuan
Rice (10kg) — 28 Yuan
Cooking Oil — 18 Yuan
A line of people stretched halfway down the block.
Eli removed his helmet slowly.
He didn't need to say anything.
He already knew.
Behind him, Mr. Duan stepped outside carrying a crate of oranges.
He followed Eli's gaze across the street.
Then he saw the price board.
The oranges slipped slightly in his grip.
"…That's below wholesale," Mr. Duan murmured.
Eli nodded once.
"They're starting the war."
Inside The Corner Pocket
The store opened at eight.
By nine-thirty, Eli knew exactly how bad it was.
Three customers.
Total.
The fluorescent lights hummed softly over aisles that suddenly felt too wide and too empty.
Jin stood near the drink refrigerator pretending to rearrange bottles that were already perfectly aligned.
He kept glancing toward the door.
Waiting.
No one came.
Across the street, SuperMartX speakers blasted cheerful music.
A recorded voice echoed through the neighborhood.
"Thank you Briggon! SuperMartX is proud to serve our community!"
Mr. Duan stood at the register staring at the sales screen.
"Eggs," he said quietly.
"8 yuan here."
"4 yuan there."
He tapped the counter slowly.
"They're losing money on every box."
Eli leaned against the counter.
"They can afford it."
A family walked past the window carrying two huge SuperMartX bags.
The father glanced inside Corner Pocket briefly.
Then looked away.
Mr. Duan noticed.
He forced a smile anyway.
"Can't blame them," he said softly.
"If someone offered my mother half-price groceries when I was a kid… she would've run too."
Jin slammed a soda bottle down harder than necessary.
"This is stupid," he muttered.
"No one can compete with that."
Eli didn't respond.
Because Jin was right.
This wasn't competition.
This was predation.
Late Morning
The door finally opened.
An elderly woman stepped inside slowly.
Mrs. Chen.
One of their most loyal customers.
Mr. Duan brightened immediately.
"Mrs. Chen! Good morning!"
She smiled apologetically.
"I just came for tofu," she said.
Then she hesitated.
"My grandson told me the milk across the street is half price."
Mr. Duan nodded.
"You should buy it there."
The words came out naturally.
Mrs. Chen looked surprised.
"You don't mind?"
Mr. Duan chuckled softly.
"My job is to make sure my neighbors eat well. Not force them to pay extra."
She studied him for a moment.
Then she reached for a small basket.
"Two tofu," she said.
"And some of your oranges."
She paid quietly.
When she left, Jin asked,
"Why'd you tell her to shop there?"
Mr. Duan smiled faintly.
"Because she would've done it anyway."
He looked around the empty store.
"At least this way she didn't feel guilty."
Noon
By lunchtime the difference between the two stores was brutal.
SuperMartX looked like a holiday sale.
People pushing carts.
Staff handing out free samples.
Promoters giving away reusable shopping bags.
Meanwhile, Corner Pocket sat in quiet fluorescent stillness.
Eli checked the sales report.
Revenue was down 63% compared to the same day last week.
He exhaled slowly.
Jin saw the number over his shoulder.
"…That bad?"
Eli nodded.
Jin rubbed his face.
"They're bleeding us out."
"Exactly," Eli said.
From outside came the sound of cheering.
A SuperMartX employee shouted through a microphone:
"Next fifty customers get free rice cookers!"
The line outside grew longer.
Mr. Duan walked slowly down the snack aisle, straightening items that didn't need straightening.
Finally he stopped beside Eli.
"How long can they keep this up?" he asked.
Eli thought for a moment.
"Months."
Mr. Duan blinked.
"Months?"
"They have hundreds of stores," Eli said quietly. "This one can lose money for a year and the company won't feel it."
Mr. Duan leaned on the shelf.
For the first time since Eli met him, he looked… tired.
Not physically.
Deeply tired.
"This neighborhood built my life," he said quietly.
"I watched kids grow up in these aisles."
He gestured toward the empty store.
"And now a corporation might erase it in three weeks."
Eli didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked out the front window again.
Across the street.
At the packed SuperMartX entrance.
At the banner promising Community Future.
At the smiling employees handing out free gifts.
Then his eyes drifted slightly upward.
Toward Jin's mural on the side wall.
The dragon curled protectively around painted market stalls and lanterns.
Bright.
Defiant.
Unbreakable.
Eli straightened slowly.
"No," he said.
Mr. Duan frowned slightly.
"No what?"
Eli turned back toward the store.
"We don't fight them with price."
Jin looked up.
"Then how?"
Eli walked toward the back office.
Already thinking.
Already planning.
Because corporations fought with money.
But neighborhoods fought with something else entirely.
And if SuperMartX wanted a war for Briggon…
Eli was about to remind them that communities could fight back in ways corporations never understood.