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Chapter 16 - SMALL BAR IN THE CITY

*[INT. SMALL BAR IN THE CITY – LATE AFTERNOON]*

*The atmosphere is calm. The bar buzzes with quiet chatter, mugs clinking, and soft folk music playing in the background. LORD MODEUS sits in his usual corner — posture regal, but relaxed — gently cutting through a plate of roasted meat and sipping on spiced tea.*

*At another table, the *bandits* Modeus dealt with earlier are huddled together. One has his arm in a sling, another still has a bruise on his jaw. They whisper, eyes darting to Modeus in terror.*

*BANDIT 1 (whispering):*

*"That's him. The quiet guy who turned us into soup bones."*

*BANDIT 2 (trembling):*

*"He cracked my blade by *looking* at it, bro."*

*BANDIT 3 (nodding):*

*"I think he bent time. I blinked and woke up in a fruit stand."*

*Suddenly, the bar's door creaks open. MIA enters — her presence strong yet graceful. She's wearing a sleek, form-fitting adventurer outfit. Her hair is tied up, she walks with ease and confidence.*

*MODEUS glances up… and blinks slowly. His normally blank expression flickers into something resembling… curiosity. He's surprised. And impressed.*

*MODEUS (resting face still on, but his eyes move up and down):*

*"Hmm… expecting an ambush and a barrel to the face. But instead… the scenery improved."*

*MIA (pulling out the chair and sitting):*

*"Don't get your hopes up, mystery man. I only dress up for diplomatic traps."*

*Modeus chuckles faintly, pushing his plate to the side.*

*MODEUS:*

*"Well then, I'm honored to be lured so attractively. Shall we start with poison in the wine or a dagger in the ribs?"*

*MIA:*

*"Tempting. But this time, I brought something sharper. A decision."*

*She leans back, crossing her arms.*

*MIA:*

*"I accept your deal. The month-long tour. Just know I'm doing this for *intel*, not your charming aura of doom."*

*MODEUS (grinning):*

*"Good. A deal is struck. However… a small adjustment."*

*He raises a finger slowly.*

*MODEUS:*

*"Three questions. That's your limit."*

*MIA's jaw drops slightly.*

*MIA:*

*"Hold up! You said I could ask anything!"*

*MODEUS:*

*"Indeed. Anything you want… within three questions. I didn't say 'how many'."*

*MIA (groaning):*

*"Ugh… You sound like one of those wish-granting tricksters in fairytales. Next thing I know, you'll turn into a talking frog."*

*MODEUS:*

*"Please. Frogs are far too emotionally unstable."*

*MIA sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose.*

*MIA:* *"Fine. I'll play your cryptic little game." (pauses) *"But if I catch you dodging answers, I'll shove that smug aura where the sun never shines."*

*MODEUS (smiling faintly):*

*"Do you mean Abaddon Ha'Sheol, or your family's basement? Be specific."*

*MIA can't help but smirk, trying to hide a laugh.*

*MIA:*

*"By the way, rude demon lord, you could've ordered me something too. Or do you only feed your victims after killing them?"*

*MODEUS (raising a brow):*

*"Oh, I assumed you'd reject gifts from someone you tried to shoot last week. Or is that policy only for your exes?"*

*MIA (grinning):*

*"Nah, my exes were worse. At least you didn't ghost me after the first attempt on your life."*

*They both share a brief laugh. There's a surprising softness in the moment. The bartender watches from afar, whispering to another customer:*

*BARTENDER:*

*"Is it just me, or is that the most romantic death threat I've ever heard?"*

*At the edge of the bar, *KYA CALAVERA* sits in a dark corner. Her hood is up, and she sips tea silently, observing the pair closely. Her eyes narrow, watching every movement — though the music and noise prevent her from hearing.*

*KYA (to herself):*

*"So... this is the threat the Constantines are chasing? Odd... he's not what I expected."* *Back at the table, MIA leans forward dramatically.*

*MIA:*

*"So… when does the 'tour' start, your gloominess?"*

*MODEUS:*

*"Right after dessert. Which I didn't order, because someone always storms off halfway."*

*MIA:*

*"Keep the sass. I'll storm off *after* dessert this time."*

*They smirk at each other, a strange rapport growing… like fire and oil just learning to sit in the same pan.*

*FADE OUT.*

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