I arrived in the city of Atris.
The air carried that mix of iron and spices only large cities ever keep. The streets were damp, wrapped in a thin veil of mist that seemed to rise straight from the ground itself. The murmur of people never stopped—a river of voices blending with the sound of wheels, footsteps, and the occasional off-key instrument somewhere in the distance.
I headed straight for the Bullet tavern.
Warm lights spilled from inside, clashing with the gray of the street. Laughter, gambling, and loud arguments filled the air. The moment I crossed the threshold, old Bang welcomed me in his own… aggressive way.
He threw a bottle of liquor at me the instant he saw me.
I watched it come in slow motion, spinning through the air, reflecting firelight like a shard of fate made of glass. Obviously, I dodged the bottle without issue.
Still, I couldn't help thinking: "If this were the real world, Bang would be getting a lot more than just jail time."
But those rules didn't apply here. So I guess that made it fine.
Right after avoiding the bottle, I said:
—Looks like you've been doing well, old man.
Bang: —Damn brat… Peleó told me you got fired. What the hell did you do!?
—Wrong. I got promoted. Big difference.
Bang: —"Don't lie to me. I talked to Peleó. He told me everything."
I smiled and leaned an elbow against the bar, scarred with burn marks and dried alcohol.
—Well then… Peleó was wrong.
I paused for a second, then burst out laughing.
—Hahaha—no, no, I can't—hahaha—who the hell names someone Peleó?
I saw him grip a wooden mug so hard it cracked.
His eye twitched.
Bang: —"Everything's a joke to you."
—Relax, old man. Laughter's medicine. Best way to survive life's disasters.
His gaze was filled with irritation and restrained anger.
Bang: —"Enough with the nonsense. Tell me what happened."
—Nothing much. I punched the boss.
Bang: —"WHAT!? …Is that true!?"
—Nah… well, yeah.
The old man grabbed another bottle. His intentions were obvious—he was about to throw it at me.
But he sighed heavily and asked instead:
Bang: —"Why do you love playing the idiot when you talk to me, brat?"
—Because pissing you off is fun. It's entertaining.
His eyes burned with near-murderous fury.
He grabbed another beer mug and slammed it against the bar in less than three seconds.
Bang: —"Fine. Don't tell me anything. By the way… Noelle's been asking about you."
I adjusted my coat, pretending indifference, though something stirred in my chest.
—Where is she?
Bang rummaged through the drawers behind the bar, pulling out a cigarette.
Bang: —"She said if you showed up, I should tell you she's waiting outside the city all days."
—Alright. Hey, old man Bang—contact the guild master and tell him to handle the expenses for a hundred-year-old woman who passed away in her home in Ataxia. Her name was Nana.
Bang raised an eyebrow, lowering the cigarette now hanging from his lips.
Bang: —"Why should I do that?"
—Do it, and you'll get a raise.
Bang: —"I don't believe a word you say. I honestly can't tell when you're joking and when you're serious."
—I'm serious, Boss Bang.
Bang: —"So you can show respect, brat."
—Let's go.
Bang: —"Fine. I'll do it. But I'll say it was a joke in the end."
—Relax. They'll take it seriously. Anyway, I'm leaving.
The sound of my footsteps faded into the noise of the tavern. Smoke, laughter, and murmurs stayed behind like a blurred memory.
Curious about Raymond's strange behavior, Bang made the call using the magic sphere. Bluish light illuminated his weathered face as he spoke the request.
When Bang relayed Raymond's words to the guild master and joked about a raise, he was about to end the communication with a laugh—when, on the other end, a formal voice answered seriously:
—"Understood. We'll mobilize immediately."
Bang froze, the sphere hovering in front of him.
He didn't understand a thing.
And he asked himself:
"What the hell did that brat do in Cartag?"
****
Outskirts of Atris — Southwest Gate
The wind blew cold, dragging golden dust from the hills. The city walls rose behind me, and in the distance, I spotted Noelle.
She was waiting near the gate, arms crossed, her hair flowing under the morning light.
Noelle: —"Where were you?"
—Walking around the city. Did you know there are six gates to enter Atris?
Noelle: —"Oh… sorry. I forgot to tell Bang which entrance I'd be at. You didn't get lost, did you?"
—Just sightseeing. The ships you need are coming here.
She frowned, trying to process that.
Noelle: —"What?"
—Yeah. I figured it was more practical to handle this operation all at once.
Noelle: —"How did you manage that?"
I gave her a half-smile, laced with the arrogance that always irritated her.
—Trust me, girl. That's what I told you.
Noelle: —"I don't remember that… if anything, you're the kid."
—When a child takes responsibility for someone else, that's the moment he becomes a man.
Noelle: —"Stop with the speeches already. Honestly, sometimes you look ridiculous and immature. You don't take anything seriously."
—I see. Then do what you need to do. I have something else to take care of.
Noelle: —"Wait… you're just leaving like that?"
—I'm a busy guy. I can't waste time.
Noelle: —"But you were just doing that a moment ago."
—I thought investing my time in you would be nice. Turns out it wasn't.
Noelle: —"Are you leaving because I told you what I think?"
—If you don't like my madness, don't complain when I show you my bitterness.
Noelle: —"See? Why do you keep doing this?"
—Doing what?
Noelle: —"Acting like an adult, then saying childish things."
—If people did that more often, the world wouldn't be hell.
Noelle: —"Wait—what did you just say?"
—If everyone's serious, where does joy go? And if everyone's joyful, where does seriousness go? Living in balance isn't a sin. But trying to force someone to think like you is.
Noelle: —"Wow."
—I'm leaving. Good luck, Miss Fandvalen.
Noelle: —"Don't call me—"
The wind picked up, kicking dust between them. He walked away without looking back, while she followed him with her eyes, unsure whether to laugh or curse.
After that wild night of gambling in Cartag, with every member of the group enjoying themselves to the fullest—
And after all the strange events that constantly surrounded Raymond—
She, like the rest of Obraham's group, had grown used to him speaking casually, showing no respect for hierarchies or age.
That was characteristic of Brian.
He wasn't usually polite or formal unless he was angry—or genuinely respected someone.
He addressed people with a natural, casual familiarity. An instinct shaped by growing up his entire childhood in America.
Even after studying three years in Japan.Even after being taught formal traditions and dialects by his grandparents.
He still retained that easygoing charisma absorbed from his friends, from his earliest bonds.
His complicated personality was the result of countless factors influencing his life.
And now, that same personality was being distorted by a trait that destabilized his mental states to inhuman levels.
When Noelle heard the way Raymond said goodbye, it felt as if an invisible barrier had formed between them—a real distance between Sam and her.
When he addressed her as "Miss Fandvalen," she understood.
That was how he built walls.
And so, with dawn brushing against the walls of Atris and the echo of his footsteps fading away, Raymond parted ways with Noelle that morning.