You don't even want to call me godfather

He suddenly took a big gulp of wine, and heavy words came out of his mouth.

"He pawned his medal," Jill sighed and said, "He gave up his bottom line of dignity. Perhaps he was just ready to accept death calmly."

"Alas... At the end of the Four Kingdoms War, I was sent to clean up the battlefield. At that time, I met a parrot that could imitate human speech. It had learned two words. When I approached it, it shouted those two words loudly. It tore my heart apart and prevented me from moving forward. It shouted, 'Mom', 'Help'."

"You are a soldier..."

Jill took over the conversation but did not dare to continue because the person in front of her was devastated by war and his identity as an infected person.

The violent roar of thunder roared once more and his eyes refocused back to the present.

"Yes, I'm a soldier, Jill. I fought for my country, but when I became infected, they abandoned me." Chaos' voice became deeper and deeper. "I once believed in the honor of Ursus, but it turned out that I was wrong. People discriminated against me and insulted me, so I ran away. I want to go to a place where I can be alone and quiet."

Chaos and Jill looked at each other. He saw a pair of deep eyes, but Jill saw a pair of eyes that were reduced to ashes.

"Gill, this is the world. Those lords and nobles are happily dancing and having parties, while we are trying to survive in the mud, swords and gunfire. We are tools that can be replaced at any time, that's all. No one cares about our life or death," he concluded. "They look down on us. There are only insults, but no respect for a soldier."

"Emperors and nobles may sound noble, but they are also the ones who spread their malice most unrestrainedly on this land."

Jill narrowed her eyes slightly, as if Chaos' story moved her a little.

"When I was on the battlefield, I often wondered when I would die under enemy fire. After I retired, I often wondered when I would die under a glass bottle thrown by a passerby. But now, I seem to understand," he drank the last bit of wine in the glass and sighed deeply, "I was already 'dead' on the afternoon when I was forced to retire because I became infected."

After Chaos wiped the wine foam from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, he seemed to have lost interest in continuing the conversation and stood up to leave.

"Chaos," Jill suddenly called Chaos from behind, "You will always be a soldier."

"Yes, you are right," Chaos put his hand on the door, his back to Jill, and said in a self-deprecating tone, "So I will always live in war."

The door was closed, the sound of wind chimes began to ring again, and the bar became empty again.

Jill stopped wiping the glass and walked towards the window.

The gray world came into view, and Jill opened the window to let the raindrops in.

The splashing raindrops dotted her face and she cleared her mind.

"This is how the world is. Everyone has to live, even if they are oppressed and abused," she said. No one could hear her words. She just spoke to herself. "I hope I can see you again next year."

The rain washes over the city, but will it wash away the injustice of this land?

No, Jill knew, it would never end.

Order a cup of Death In The Afternoon to release those depression and decadence.

It was as if I had died on that afternoon that I would never forget in my life.

Mockingbird

It snowed in Syracuse at night.

It snowed heavily this time. The falling snow filled the streets like goose feathers, turning Syracuse into a wonderful world. The wind was not strong today, and the snowflakes brought tranquility and beauty.

Two hours later, the flying snow stopped and snowflakes stopped falling. Sparse workers entered the bar, but few ordered cocktails. These rough men would order a large glass of beer and then gather at several tables to play cards.

The white snow and the dark gray streets are intertwined, like a black and white photo, vicissitudes and deep.

"Dingling bell~"

The wind chimes rang quietly, and another guest came, but he looked exactly the opposite of those workers.

He was wearing a suit and tie, with a black feather on his head symbolizing his race. He had nothing in his hands, and a crunching sound came from under his feet, which was the snow that had not yet melted.

The noise continued, and he sat down on the high chair in front of the bar in silence, took off his coat and put it aside.

"Welcome to the Valhalla Bar," Jill stopped what she was doing, put the rag away, and leaned lazily on the bar, "What would you like to order?"

He looked haggard, his cheekbones were a little sunken, and dark circles were clearly visible under his eyes.

He lowered his head slightly, and his eyes, which moved from time to time, contained worry. His shoulders were thin. He was wearing a black suit and a white shirt, a classic civil servant, but his shoulders looked a little too thin.

"Hahaha! I won, give me the money!"

The workers' laughter echoed in the bar. They were happy and indulgent when they gathered together after a busy day.

"Hello, Jill. I've heard a lot about you."

The black Liberi nodded at her and crossed his arms on the bar.

"I'm not that famous. I'm just a bartender at a bar that's about to go bankrupt."

Jill straightened up, looking like a guest who had heard of this place. She smiled and said.

"Hmm... looking at the moon in the water?"

He seemed very hesitant and puzzling.

Jill was very sensitive to his thoughts and emotions, but she only saw a few traces. He was like the sea. You could only see the blue on the surface, but no one could see the black abyss below.

"I think mockingbird might be more suitable for you."

Jill spoke lightly and calmly offered her suggestions.

And he only made one move, placing his crossed hands flat on the table.

"Then it is as you say, Providence, my name."

He smiled back at her, a faint smile on his face that was so melancholy, perhaps he should be a poet.

"Please wait."

Jill took out the base wine and the glass, put ice cubes into the glass first, and stirred it gently to cool the glass.

Jill pulled out a mixing glass from below and added tequila, spearmint, and then lime juice.

Then put ice cubes into the mixing cup and start a short and powerful shake. The sound of the ice cubes hitting the wall of the cup can be clearly heard.

She picked up the wine glass that was placed aside, poured out the ice, and then poured all the wine into the glass. The green wine looked like jade, and the mockingbird was gently pushed in front of him.

"To Providence."

She withdrew her hand and watched his every move.

"Mockingbird, respect others, disregard and harm to innocent people is a sin."

He spoke softly, as if he was talking to himself.

Providence experienced this moment, the first moment he drank the wine, the noise and the silence, the workers and the congressmen, the bartender and the guests, the cold and the heat, the opposition and the unity, this sense of separation made him feel intoxicated.

"Want to hear it?"

Providenti put his hand to his forehead. He was very tired, and the alcohol made his thoughts surface, although only a little.

"I'm listening."

Jill was very interested. What kind of story would such a person have?

"My childhood was in Colombia. I remember that when I was young, I particularly liked all kinds of heroic stories. I admired those heroes very much," he smiled, and his smile was like melting ice water. "You may find it funny, but that's the fact. At that time, I wanted to be a hero when I was young."

He took a sip of wine, but instead of swallowing it directly, he held it in his mouth and savored it carefully.

"Like everyone else, when I grew up and entered that bizarre society, I buried it. I realized that there were no heroes in this world. There was only oppression and darkness, and people who were used to oppression and unwilling to resist. The sticky darkness like asphalt was the best grave for those fantasies. Gradually, I became mediocre, no longer imaginative, and became like those numb people, turning a blind eye to evil."

His eyes gradually became blurred, and his words seemed to reveal his true feelings.

"Later, I came to Syracuse and met that man. His name was Koshei. You know him. He was almost as old as me. But you also know what he did. He avenged his father, worked hard for his family, and dedicated himself to this country. I suddenly felt that he was a hero, a hero! Do you understand?"

He waved his right hand as if announcing something extremely exciting.

"I can pick up my dream, I almost burned myself, I provided him with lists, I did things for him, I helped him secretly, I can't be a hero, but he can, he should be a hero!"

He suddenly calmed down, and the crisp sound of cards reached the ears of the two.

"But my good friend died at his hands. I had no sadness, only silence. But it was at this time that I saw his most vulnerable side. How ridiculous, Jill."

He gave a miserable smile, almost pulling his face to show this stiff smile.

"This land will never allow perfect people to exist. I finally understand now that the so-called hero in my eyes is just an ordinary person. He is just forced to bear a lot of things and show his strength in front of us, which makes his figure look so tall."

Providence's fingers holding the wine glass trembled slightly, just like his mood, ups and downs.

"What I yearn for is a hero, a hero who never gives up, a hero who is not weak, a hero who has a kind heart and guards justice. But what about Koshe? He became more and more fragile and sensitive, and the more sensitive he became, the more brutal he became. He killed countless people, old people, young people, and even children."

He drank the last of the wine in the glass, just like he was about to enter the end of his life.

"Today, I dug a grave. I killed a man and pushed him down. I wanted to kill him completely. He was killed by me because of his fantasy," Providence said some obscure words in a self-deprecating manner. He stood up and put on his coat. "I am going to meet Koshe. You see, how ironic it is. How should I face him? What kind of expression should I use to face him? I have long been accustomed to hiding myself, but how can I hide myself completely in front of a 'hero'? How can I persuade and rebuke him with words that even I feel against my will?"

Jill understood that everything he said now was the truth, because how could a person who was about to face death bother to hide himself?

"A story about a hero, and a story about a shadow, right?"

She sighed deeply and said.

"Yes, it's a story of a shadow that hasn't burned out yet." He finally put down his hand, and a long sigh was like a rising mist. "But the journey will eventually end, and this story should also come to an end. Everything is useless. I know it myself. Maybe... it's time for me to accept reality and give up the so-called heroic dream."

He took out a few clean bills and placed them on the bar.

They looked at each other in silence, with only endless emotion and regret.

Providence's life began as a hero and ended as a "hero".

Without any hesitation or reluctance, he left without looking back, just like when he helped Koshei, relying on his remaining impulse and passion.

But now, all he had left was grief and resentment.

Gil recalled the story of Providence. In addition to farewell, for him, it was perhaps more of a "fulfillment".

The world has changed, but he hasn't changed. He wants to kill the enemy, but he is powerless to save the situation.

'Go ahead, Koshe.'

A gunshot rang out and was swallowed up by white snowflakes.

Gray November had just gone for an hour, and the white winter was coming.

Volume 1 The Last Golden Years

Chapter 1 Cascade

Thick fog and flames surrounded the city.

Vehicles attempting to escape to the outskirts of the city were blocked from leaving, and the railways were also blocked.

At the end of the street, a naked boy knelt there, flames burning on his wrists like shackles, and an ugly beast appeared behind him, roaring as if it had self-awareness.

The beast's roar almost shattered the clouds, and a bright red moon rose along with its cry.

It was too late. In just a moment, the flames spread throughout the entire city.

Once a monster appears, it will exist forever. Even if it destroys everything in the world, it cannot destroy itself.

The young man knelt on the altar, his body enduring the pain of burning. The flames climbed up his body, as if to devour him and surround him.

His consciousness began to blur, the monster was completely out of his control, he seemed to see a wolf with chains and flames wrapped all over its body, raising its ugly head, turning back suddenly and pouncing on him.

He closed his eyes in fear, but did not feel anything being torn apart. He opened his eyes and saw that his hands had turned into sharp claws. He wanted to shout, but only howls of pain came out of his mouth.

Everything around him had been burned to ashes, but he was still burning. In the last moment before his consciousness faded, he stretched out his arms, which had turned into claws, and stretched them towards the sky, as if asking for help.

The person who once reached out to me...

Hopefully, please save me...

help me!

……

When I opened my eyes, I saw the familiar Baroque chandelier.

He climbed out of bed and sat there, the sunlight shining through the stained glass window onto his messy hair.

It seems like... I had a strange dream?