"As far as I know, those whose bodies were invaded by the Earth Demon in false reality will die permanently. In other words, they will remain in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives, unable to awaken."
I said to Rack while the two of us were still confined in medical rooms to check whether anything was wrong with us.
In truth, this was not exactly a medical room, but more like a luxuriously built temporary restaurant used for health inspections.
I picked up a bottle of wine I had stolen from the restaurant cabinet and poured it into a tall-stemmed glass. The red color of the wine reminded me of the sight of Janeus covered in blood that I once witnessed.
"Can you drink alcohol?"
I asked him. Rack shook his head but still secretly glanced at the glass, whispering only, "I don't want to drink."
"This is a rare occasion. The bottle is quite expensive, and not many people get to drink it in their lifetime."
I pushed the wine toward Rack while putting the bottle back in its place. Rack examined me carefully and then asked,
"Why don't you drink it? You were the one who took it out."
"I can't distinguish the taste of different wines. There are many people like me. Not very good at distinguishing alcoholic substances."
Rack glanced at the glass again, but this time with curiosity, curious about what I intended.
Rack had met me three times. Not many. But I was already able to have him work for me within a limited time.
He was not particularly talented. Only average to below average. No special intelligence, no background, no 'plot armor.'
But he had one thing. He did not fear death.
"Just drink it. It's as if you're worried about something."
Rack looked at me, then took the glass and poured it down the drain, his face cold and indifferent, as though unconcerned about the money the drink represented.
"Heh, fine. Back to the main issue. The family you were looking for has only one child left. The child's mother has become vegetative, and the father has been dead for two years."
Rack sat down beside me, one hand supporting his chin, the other playing with his bracelet.
"What do you think? Disappointed? Now there's only one child left. Are you planning to kill that one too?"
Rack remained silent for a few seconds, then quickly spoke.
"Shut up. I don't know how you found my past, or even used it to force me to work for you. But the deal is over now. From this point on, I decide everything myself. You and I have nothing to do with each other anymore."
Rack slammed the table and stood up, walking out of the dining room of the luxurious restaurant. But I added one more sentence.
"You know, if children are left without family or guardians due to mystical events or accidents, they are either sent to orphanages. But in special cases, such as being born during a mystical event, they are raised by the state and become part of 'GIÁN.'"
Click.
…
Three days had passed since everything ended.
I sat at an open-air café. In the distance, the sun was setting beyond the horizon.
I lifted the cup of black coffee and drank it all, my expression calm, even somewhat absent.
"I thought you'd gone insane. Turning mini bombs into cigarettes to chew on was already extreme. I didn't expect you to even drink sewage water."
Marcus stuck out his tongue teasingly and sat down opposite me. I looked at my cup again. Indeed, it did not resemble a standard cup of coffee.
"…Stop talking nonsense. You know I've already lost my sense of taste."
I wiped the stain from my mouth with a handkerchief, looked toward the sea beyond the iron railing, then sighed.
"Oh right, I almost forgot. You came to take this, didn't you?"
I tapped my bracelet, causing a 3D screen to appear. From it, I took out a blue cigarette pack with a western dragon printed on it.
"Thanks for cooperating."
I placed the pack on the table. Marcus picked it up and opened it, counting the cigarettes inside. After confirming there were twenty, he nodded in satisfaction.
"Alright, no problem. I suppose everything will be fine."
Marcus picked up a cigarette, spun it between his fingers, and asked me,
"Is it really a bomb? It doesn't feel like one."
He put the cigarette into his mouth. It was still soft, and the taste seemed normal.
"If you doubt it, why not light it? I'll help you."
I joked, but my hand had already ignited a flame to light it for him. Marcus paled slightly and quickly put the cigarette away.
"Hm. I think that won't be necessary."
Marcus forced a smile, then turned to leave.
I looked at his back, sighed, and played with the lighter in my hand. I asked one question.
"You knew who I was from the beginning, didn't you?"
Marcus spoke softly while gesturing farewell.
"If you knew, why ask?"