Farewell gathering.
The atmosphere inside suddenly turned cold. Except for Rod, who was too drunk to know anything, everyone sobered up a bit and glanced toward the door, where Watson, who had taken over Oscar's body, was standing.
Lorenzo looked like he understood everything. His expression twisted slightly, switching from cruel to smiling, repeating this process several times before sighing helplessly. He picked up the wine bottle, walked back to the sofa, and moved it toward the door, then sat down heavily.
"Farewell gathering…"
Lorenzo muttered the word and then forcefully drank wine.
No one spoke this time; they just waited quietly. They didn't know what they were waiting for, but they maintained a calm silence by mutual agreement.
"A farewell gathering… I've always thought funerals could count as farewell gatherings, only not as joyful as this.
Lorenzo understood why this group gathered here. It wasn't just for reunion or joy; it was also a wartime assembly.
