Chapter 34 -

  She was quite uncomfortable being here.

  She kept pondering over why exactly she was feeling this way. She would rather meet a handful of the deadliest assassins than having to go through... this. At least, the battles were warmer and more tolerable than this.

  This? Having to sit here in a place, full of erratic people who only desired and indulged in nothing but dull and easy pleasure? She would rather just stab her own skin, which she did – sinking her deadly nails into her palms.

  Though she somehow understood them... no, sympathize with them because unlike them, they had nothing better to do anyway.

  Peace prospered since there weren’t any ruinous monstrosities lunging at them at a moment’s notice.

  Nor any barbaric raiders to destroy and loot, nor the wicked conjurers to kidnap people, conduct the most unspeakable experiments on them, all in the name of their true God.

  There weren’t any fights to determine your worths and best thing is that... there weren’t any mimicking undead – ghouls roaming these lands.

  How unbelievably different.

  She released her frustrated jaws and let out a short sigh.

  “Least’ try the drink, will ya?”

  Her companion spoke. She snorted and only responded mentally.

  You called this a drink?

  Her companion didn’t seem to mind and with a smile, chugged down his with just a gulp. The guy seemed to be enjoying this, though.

  “I’ll have to say, this place reeks of spineless mutts but, hey, at least, they know how to make a drink, ha-ha.”

  The man gave a glance at the bartender and asked for another one to which, the bartender instantly responded to – even from a quietly tucked away corner, through this dense sea of people.

  She couldn’t help but inwardly feel pleasantly surprised again at the overwhelming presence of the man in front of it. Though she didn’t give away any of her internal thoughts – maintaining her cold and indifferent demeanor.

  It seemed the man noticed her extremely subtle gaze, the corner of his lips curled upward and with a clear voice, he said,

  “Maybe, it’s because of the scar.”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  She nonchalantly replied. Her voice came out a lot colder than she intended to, which made her surprised at her own self. Honestly, she never considered his scar as something hideous – she even saw it as something... a mark of honor, a souvenir of countless survivals and his own trademark...

  Moreover, she slightly even found it attractive... one of her weird inner thoughts she would take to her grave.

  At least, compared to “hers”, anyway.

  She added again while hiding her face behind her ashen hairs, this time intentionally softening her voice,

  “Are you just going to mindlessly drink and stare at people all day long or don’t tell me you already forgot why we came here in the first place?”

  With flawless precision, the man met her glare, specifically her left eye, before slowly saying:

  “No, I’m not going to mindlessly drink and stare at people all day long. I’m waiting.”

  “Waiting? Waiting for what? For whom?”

  The man's clear yet deep laughter rang in her ears for several moments and he let out a long, turbid air and said,

  “Come on, Rev, take it easy. It’s not every day we get to enjoy some peace and bliss. You should at least relax and maybe, enjoy the drink.”

  “No, thank you. And... I dare you to call me Rev one more time.”

  The laughter annoyingly rang in her ears yet again and he smilingly said,

  “You’re no fun, Revella.”

  Me? No fun? Wha...

  However, the man didn’t seem to notice her changed expression as he was looking at something. A table – the two men at the table to be specific.

  “Deckard, what are you looking at?”

  Right as she asked, the men Deckard was looking at, stood up and moved.

  “Like I said, Rev, I was waiting.”

  She let it slide for the last time, getting called “Rev” and focused on what Deckward meant.

  Once he saw the men started moving, though, Deckard stopped glancing at them and leisurely enjoyed his newest drink as if it was the only enjoyable thing in the world.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  But she grew restless once she finally noticed the two strange men were slowly approaching them.

  Out of instinct, she instantly grabbed the dagger hidden on her thigh and kept her gaze on the men. But seeing how Deckward was just completely relaxing, her mind eased up a little but didn’t let go of her beloved weapon.

  When they were about to reach her, she tilted her head slightly towards the right side – to hide things that she meant to hide.

  One of the men, seemingly the younger one, greeted them pleasantly.

  “Hello, my beautiful lady and... ahem... Ordinary Mister. It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it?”

  Beautiful?

  To even level up a notch of Revella’s surprise, Deckard’s face gleamed and answered in the friendliest tone she ever heard from him:

  “Indeed, my friends. It really is a fine evening that makes me think life is, in fact, worth living!”

  Revella and both the young man slightly frowned at Deckard’s unexpected behavior and at the same time, she noticed that the man in black was wearing a deadpan expression unlike both.

  Though his intense stare with traces of caution laced in it, never left Deckard’s face.

  Perhaps, he is intrigued by the scar the same way I do.

  The young man slightly coughed and continued,

  “Yes, yes, true, true, anyway, my lady, are you liking here so far? I can’t help but notice your drink has yet to be in a grace of being tasted. May I suggest you with a drink I personally love and am quite sure it will also be to your liking?”

  “No.”

  She plainly answered. The young infuriating man didn’t relent of course, instead, came even stronger with his whole-body leaning in.

  “Please, my beautiful lady. You really don’t want to miss it! I humbly claim it’s one of, if not, the best drink this city has yet to see. It’s called “Midnight Sun” because the drink itself has its own unique set of color and... wait, umm... what the...”

  The moment his face leaned in and looked at her face’s right side, though, the young, non-stop blathering man’s tongue twisted on its own and his words stopped in their tracks.

  She gripped the dagger even harder and helplessly gritted her teeth. Unknowingly, her face sank into the depths of the hood she was wearing to cover the hideous truth of her appearance.

  All kinds of thoughts went rampart in her head – whether to just poke the guy’s eyes out, decapacitate the guy, sever his limbs, bury him under the ground, or just plain run away, as she always did as a child.

  At the same time, she couldn’t believe herself for feeling this way after all these years.

  After all, it was just a -

  “Breathtaking...”

  “Huh?”

  The young man who was now speechlessly staring at both “sides” of her had a pair of dazzling eyes that seemed to be captivated by the most wondrous and exquisite beauty that he had ever laid his eyes upon.

  However, rather than the overwhelming expression of the flamboyant man in front of her, all she felt and heard was a breathy and silent mutter of the cold-looking man in black.

  Her hands softly trembled.

  She blinked for several times and in these painfully torturous moments, she felt her unshakable image almost crumbled.

  All she ever heard and remembered were names, insults, pity and words of encouragements, empathies over her hideously distorted appearance.

  Two-faced, they said. It’s not a very nice name.

  Thus, she blindly buried herself into the endless struggles of combats and bloods to cover her scars, to cover her fragile weakness, to ward off people’s unwanted empathy.

  Maybe because of her cold demeanor and reckless assaults, people no longer dared to show disrespect nor pity in front of her face and yet, the feelings behind their eyes were as glaring as the eternal blazing sun.

  Or maybe there’s something else.

  Fear.

  But now?

  Never did she ever expect that the behaviors of a duo of weird and eccentric men she just met, in a place she despised with all her heart, towards her life-long insecurity felt more genuine than she ever received.

  She thought to herself,

  “Getting called beautiful isn’t bad as it seems, huh?”

  The next moment, though, her curled lips straightened, and her aloof expression returned as if her previous slightly flushed expressions never appeared in the first place.

  She glanced at Deckward and saw that he was smiling.

  She wanted to kill him.

  This time, the cold man in black, spoke for the first time.

  “I’m sorry if we have disturbed you your fine evening. We only meant good wills. We’ll be on our way now. Please, continue to -”

  “No, no. You’re not disturbing any of us. Are you disturbed, Rev?”

  She just shook her head.

  “See? We’re delighted, even. Do stay. The more the merrier! I’m sure you gentlemen have your own reasons to come greet us, correct?”

  With what Deckard said, the mood seemed to lighten up several times. The man in black responded with a friendly tone, saying:

  “My name’s Merik. And this... thing is called Soran. To be frank, we’re here to settle the score of our little game and we just did that. So, we shall leave not to be impolite to you!”

  “Haha, Merik, don’t you think “Coming here to settle the score and to blatantly leave” is way more impolite?”

  Deckard’s smile didn’t falter but his eyes slightly sharpened and it seemed the man called Merik noticed that.

  “Indeed. I apologize for that, Mister...”

  “Deckard. No need for Mister or any of those, Merik. Come here, sit. Sit beside Rev. You, too, Soran, you come here.”

  Now, the men had no choice but to sit, and Merik took the seat besides Revella who was glaring daggers at Deckard and Soran besides the smiling, scarred man.

  Merik broke the ice just as he sat.

  “It seems you guys aren’t from around here.”

  It was a simple icebreaker and yet, Revella and Deckard both stiffened up and their sharp gazes pierced Merik almost at the same time.

  The poor man called Merik similarly stiffened upon seeing their odd reaction but gently added,

  “Ah... I apologize for my poor choice of words. I merely mean that it’s the first time I'm seeing you both so I only meant to ask if it’s your first time coming here?”

  Only then, she and Deckard let out a small breath. She responded to Merik with a tone she considered gentle.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I see.”

  Deckard smiled and ordered another round of the drink he was previously enjoying alone and after that, he asked Merik,

  “I wonder what score you were trying to settle?”

  Merik and Soran glanced at one another before the latter smiled and answered,

  “We’re playing a game of guessing. Specifically, guessing a person’s three facts.”

  “A person’s three facts? You mean...”

  “It means we must choose a target, guess the person’s facts and confirm the truth in a roundabout way. It’s somewhat rude and tedious and yes, a boring to the bone game, yes but it’s what he chose so I had to go along with it. And guess what? I won!”

  Soran enthusiastically explained in extreme details and started laughing, while taking a sip of the glass the waiter just put in front of him.

  Meanwhile, when she stole a glance at him, Merik’s expression stayed the same, which made her curious about the game and the men themselves.

  Especially, him, of course.

  She needn’t pry since Deckard would do his job and he did.

  “Hmm, indeed, from a certain point of view, it can come off as somewhat offensive. But considering you already explained it to us, it would be our fault if we were to get mad when we’re the one who invited you, right?”

  “Umm, I’m not trying to...”

  “Don’t worry. It’s quite alright. Still, I would like to know about it. Who did you choose between the two of us?”

  Deckard added,

  “Since you came here to talk to us and according to your rules, this is your roundabout way of confirming the truth, am I right? Tell me, is it me?”

  Merik nodded and after a momentary pause, he opened up his palm towards her and said,

  “It was her.”

  Next moment, Revella’s expression turned colder than a remorseless winter.