Kael looked into Mark's eyes. He could now see the sincerity hidden behind the seriousness. The words that had spilled from the mouth of a drunk man… strangely carried weight. Once you stripped them of the alcohol, what remained was a pure truth.And this truth made Kael think.
He was affected.Maybe he only noticed he was affected because he hadn't felt something like this in a long time. Somewhere inside him, for the first time in a while, felt that he wasn't alone. This man… rough, blunt, but genuine. What he said may not have been as disciplined as a teacher's words, but they were real. And for the first time, Kael felt like he had formed a genuine bond. As if, in this grim life — between constant escape and silence — something had come to hold on to.
He had begun to trust Mark.Slowly… cautiously, but not reluctantly.
He raised his glass. The liquid wavered on the trembling glass and suddenly came to a stop. Kael's eyes narrowed. A slight smile appeared on his face. He turned to Mark and asked:
"Hey… wait a minute."His brows furrowed. "Did you just give me some kind of 'big brother advice'? You… how old even are you?"
Mark blinked. He didn't take Kael's serious question seriously at first. But then his expression changed. Realizing he truly meant it, there was a short silence.
"Thirty… seven," he said, pursing his lips.Then shrugged. "So what? How old are you?"
Kael's eyes went wide. The glass nearly slipped from his hand.
"Thirty-seven?! You… how do you look like you're twenty, man?!"He pointed at his own chest. "I'm thirty-two! And even I don't look as young as you!"
Mark paused for a moment. Then leaned back with pride."I'm a genetic miracle!" he said. "The girls always say the same thing. One time, even—"
Before he could finish the sentence, he started yawning. His voice grew heavier, his eyes half-closed. Within five minutes, he was slumped back in his chair, hands numbly wrapped around the empty glass, his head tilted to the side. Mark was now a man speaking not with consciousness, but with alcohol.
Kael, on the other hand, was left alone.Under the bar's shabby lights, he looked at the last few drops in his glass. Then bowed his head slightly, absently began to turn the glass.
Mark's words echoed in his mind:"Let your past build you. But don't let it rule you."
Kael smiled. A quiet, tired smile."Nice line," he said to himself.His voice echoed off the empty walls of the bar, but no one heard it.
He picked up the bottle. Poured the last sip into his glass. That final sip was as dark as the night. There was no longer bitterness in the taste, only habit. He raised it to his lips… and drank, closing his eyes.
Just then…The bar door creaked open slightly. Then a darkness slipped inside. But this was no ordinary shadow. It was darkness clothed in human form, with eyes sharp as the night and steps filled with rage.
Kael turned his head without setting down the glass. His eyes still squinted, his senses dulled. But he immediately recognized the presence before him.
When that woman, cloaked in pitch-black attire and gliding in like an angel of death, stepped inside, the entire air in the room changed at once. The seriousness on her face gave her not the gaze of an angel, but the cold and piercing look of a dark demon. At any moment, a storm of darkness could erupt and tear everything apart. Every move she made carried a silent threat. Everyone present in that moment seemed to be holding their breath under that gaze.
Liora looked at the man beside her, closed her eyes, and held her head in her hands as if taking a deep breath. That gesture was a small outburst of long-building fatigue, indecision, and tension. Then she slowly lifted her head and returned her gaze to rest on Kael.
"I've been looking for you for two hours," she said, her voice firm but with a subtle fragility beneath the fatigue. "Instead of waiting at the door, you really came to drink?"
Kael, swaying a bit but with a sly gleam in his eyes, looked at her. In his drunken state, he had become something of a comical figure. Slowly, thoughts filled with laughter and meaningless words began to swirl in his head.
Liora shook her head silently and said sternly to Kael:"Follow me. I'll show you to your room."
She turned her back and began walking. But before Kael could grasp the seriousness of the moment, in his drunken state, he shouted loudly:"The angel of death has arrived!"
As those words echoed through the room, Liora suddenly turned, her face displaying both surprise and a hint of mockery. In her eyes were both a flicker of shock and a thread of irritation nearing its limit.
Just then, Kael's head dropped swiftly onto the table. With a soft 'thud,' he hit the surface and his eyes closed. His whole body relaxed — consciousness shut down under the weight of drunkenness.
The room fell silent.
Liora slowly turned to the tavern owner, Bert. Her eyes gleamed with a sharp fire, her inner fury and frustration etched on her face. When she opened her mouth, her voice was cold and threatening:"Bert… Did he just say 'that one's mine' to me, seriously?" she said, the words almost carved out like with claws. Her eyes brimming with anger, quivered like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
Bert recoiled under Liora's sharp gaze, like a child retreating. "No, no, Liora… I don't think he meant it to you. Maybe you misunderstood," he said, voice trembling with panic. His hands fluttered slightly in the air, trying to ease the tension, but they had no effect under Liora's blazing glare.
Liora slowly turned back to Kael, unable to hide the dark shadow on her face. She murmured to herself, almost as if her thoughts could be heard aloud:"Should I have killed him? Maybe I still can…"
The words spread through the room like a cold wind. Bert's hair stood on end, sensing her intent.
He quickly took a step back, fear and helplessness mingling in his expression. Trying to keep his voice as calm as possible — though his words trembled — he continued:"Ma'am, please calm down, but… there is strictly no murder allowed in my tavern. This… this is my business, and it runs by my rules. No matter what, I won't allow blood to be spilled here."
Liora offered a slight smile at Bert's words, but there was still hesitation within her.
As Liora looked at Kael's limp body, her expression changed; first a flicker of concern, then quiet acceptance, and finally a deep sense of responsibility appeared. She paused for a moment.
Liora leaned over Kael, her face filled with a mix of worry and urgency. "Wake up, hey! Wake up!" she called. Kael, burdened by heavy drunkenness, seemed deeply asleep, giving no reaction. Liora slapped his cheeks with a slightly firmer tone, but even that was in vain; Kael remained unresponsive. As worry grew inside her, she stood there unsure of what to do, trying to plan her next step for the two men—Mark and Kael—before her.
Bert's shoulders had slumped slightly, his eyes avoiding the floor. He avoided pulling his hand from his pocket, taking small steps as if wanting to escape the situation. Caught between Liora's stern gaze, he became visibly uneasy and bit his lip.
Liora turned her head toward Bert, determination in her eyes. "Bert, can you take care of these two?" she asked.
Bert approached slowly, looking tired and a bit worn out. "I can only handle one," he said, taking a deep breath. "The bed in the other room broke."
Liora nodded lightly, touched her forehead gently, and said, "Alright, fine. Mark will stay with you." Then, bending over Kael, she slowly began to support him.
Mark had started blinking, slowly regaining himself; he seemed content with the arrangement. Bert, though tired, was ready to do his duty.
Kael's world had blurred. The voices reaching his ears mingled together, the lights of the room stung his eyes. There was a light spinning in his head, he struggled to stand, but felt like his body was sinking into the ground like a heavy weight.
Liora gently lifted Kael, supporting him by the arm. His steps still stumbled slightly, but she held him tightly to keep him from falling. As they stepped out into the cool air of the street, they walked slowly among the indifferent stares of the people around them.