She returned a short while later, took his hand, and led him into the bathroom. She placed him on a bench beside the wooden bathtub and began to pull off his leather boots.
— "Wow, these boots are heavy!" she exclaimed as she placed them down gently to the side.
— "You don't need to do this! I'm not even paying!" He tried to stand, but she pushed him right back down, unbuckled his belt, and removed it from his waist, pulling his trousers off.
— "Are all your clothes this heavy? They feel like they're made of canvas," she said, folding the trousers as she spoke to him.
— "They're called battle suits. They're made to withstand damage."
— "Aren't suits supposed to be fancier clothes?"
— "It's just a name for a category. A battle suit could even be a dress just like yours."
— "Hmm, interesting."
She grabbed the sides of his shirt and pulled it upward, forcing him to raise his arms so she could take it off. Gantz was feeling like a child. He stood up to get into the tub, but she pulled his black underwear down at the exact same moment. He stared at her with wide eyes and his mouth slightly open. Cecilia didn't notice; she was humming as she folded the underwear on top of his clothes.
He took the opportunity to get in. The water was deliciously hot, just at the right temperature. He felt his muscles relax as he sank slowly into the warmth. It reminded him of the baths his mother used to draw for him when he was little. He had been an only child for a long time before his siblings arrived. His parents used to look after him with a great deal of attention. Gantz shook his head as he splashed water onto his face, trying to push aside memories that brought him sadness.
— "I don't want to think about this."
— "Think about what?" Cecilia asked, putting her hands into the water.
— "Did I say that out loud?" Gantz muttered.
— "It's nothing, don't mind it."
She took her hands out of the water and began to massage his shoulders while rubbing soap around them. Her lips parted and closed as she sang a children's lullaby, her hands dancing across his torso while his eyes slowly closed. For a while, he forgot everything; he simply returned to a moment when things were simpler. They talked about old stories and laughed at silly jokes. She helped him get dressed, and both returned to the bedroom. Cecilia made some tea, and they sat across from each other once more. Gantz's hair was wet, darkened, and smoothed down by the moisture.
— "What do you intend to do?" Cecilia asked as she ran her index finger along the rim of the white teacup. The steam rose in spirals up to her face, warding off some of the room's chill.
Gantz looked at his reflection in the tea. He raised his head and looked into Cecilia's caramel eyes.
— "What I would like to do and what I must do are two different things. And honestly, I'd like to just be selfish and do whatever the hell I want. But I won't."
— "Well, why not?"
— "I'm not perfect, Cecilia. But I was raised—or I don't know, maybe I was just born this way—but I can't just accept leaving the things I discovered aside and simply enjoy life while I can. I have... I don't know. Responsibility, maybe?"
— "And what would that be?"
Gantz lowered his head and remained silent.
— "So, what do you intend to do?"
— "I have a place to go."
— "Where?"
— "It's called Brazanta. It's on the border with the ice desert."
— "Brazanta! Isn't that a pagan city? They say most of the people there are half-breeds."
— "That's the one. I know things that can help the people of that city."
— "So you're going to play the hero?"
— "No, heroes don't exist. Only people who do things for their own interests."
— "Gantz, we all do things for our own interests." Cecilia took another sip while looking at him.
— "Do you think everyone is selfish?"
— "Of course we are! For example: why do you think a person would sacrifice their life for another?"
— "Out of love, duty, responsibility," Gantz replied, paying closer attention to her.
She shook her head, smiling. — "We say those things because they sound prettier. People do what they do because they feel good doing it, even if it harms them. But see? Since it's unpleasant to think that way, it's prettier to call it generosity."
— "Are you a philosopher?"
— "Everyone is, at least a little bit deep down. You only see what you want to see, not the truth. People look at me and see a woman of pleasure, but I love to read, I adore writing, and I like to cook. Of course, I also love firearms!"
Gantz choked on his coffee as he laughed. — "Firearms are completely out of line with your other tastes!"
— "What can I say? I am a woman of many facets. When do you intend to leave?"
— "I don't know, as fast as I can. I must speak with Vincente first before moving on."
— "Then a toast to Gantz's new adventures!" Cecilia raised her cup, and he followed her in a clinking of porcelain.
...
The morning sun hit the bed where the two were sleeping. Gantz was wrapped in a plush sheet, and Cecilia was clinging to him with one of her thighs over his body. He opened his eyes as he felt the light. He looked at the clouds sailing somewhere in the blue sky; the sun shone vehemently, and the sounds of people and movement seemed to have been revived.
He gently removed her leg from his body and covered her with the blanket. He went to the bathroom and washed the dishes before heading down the stairs to the main hall. The woman he had met before wasn't there; he didn't remember her name since their encounter had been brief.
He walked past the side of the counter, grabbed a glass of milk, some bread with cheese, and a bit of sausage. He placed a few coins down as payment and sat on the other side. As he ate, he thought about his life. His wounds seemed to be regenerating a bit faster now. Maybe it was the psychological shock, he thought. I guess Cecilia really is more than meets the eye. His smile was wide, and his eyes gleamed with vivacity. I think I'll make some breakfast and leave it for her.
— "Hey, dummy! What are you daydreaming about over there?" Vincente came through the kitchen. His smile was wide as he wore a leather jacket, his hair was tied up in a bun, and his fingers were full of beautiful, flashy rings. Right behind him, a massive Orc stepped through the door, keeping a slight distance from him.
— "You look good for someone who was locked up a little while ago."
— "Thanks to someone!" Vincente smiled, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at Gantz.
— "Never mind that." Gantz waved his hand.
Vincente sat next to Gantz while tapping his fingers on the counter.
— "What is it? I already noticed the flashy rings! They're badass."
Vincente smiled even wider, looking at him intensely.
— "What is it?..." Gantz stood up and put his hands on his head. — "The boss! Isn't he pissed at me? I vanished and didn't say a word!"
— "Ah, that would be a problem! If it weren't for..."
— "If it weren't for what?"
— "Well, the silvers didn't just grab the rabble, they also took our boss. Well, it turns out that guy who raided the prison kinda ended up hitting our poor little boss with an arrow, along with a few of his direct subordinates."
Gantz stood open-mouthed for a moment.
— "And who's in charge now?"
Vincente pointed to himself, laughing. — "Having contacts and doing a lot of favors, my friend Gantz—these are lessons I'm passing on to you now!"
— "You mean..."
— "Everything that was his is now mine."
— "My friend! You're fucking rich!" Gantz jumped into Vincente's arms, and both laughed heartily for a moment.
— "Okay, okay. Now tell me, what the fuck were you thinking doing that kind of shit?"
Gantz shrugged.
— "I already lost my family. I'm not going to lose my friend."
— "If I weren't the boss and didn't have an image to maintain, I'd be crying right now!"
— "Stop it! I need to talk to you."
— "What's up? Do you want that girl who was with you in the room? She's yours! But I want to be the godfather of the kids!"
— "Sure! No! It's not that. What I mean is, I'm leaving this place."
— "Why? For what, my friend? I need someone here with me! Why leave?"
— "...I, we... it's better if we're alone if we're going to talk about this."
Vincente dismissed his security guard. They talked for an hour, and Vincente ended up slumped over the counter, drinking until he couldn't take it anymore.
— "Why is it that every time I have a conversation with you, the subject always gets worse?"
— "Tell me about it."
— "No, you tell me. The shit you just said affects my family—fuck, it affects a lot of people! Damn it, Gantz, we're talking about genocide!" Vincente whispered softly.
— "I... know. It's too much even for the crime king of a city.
— "Hahaha, I liked the nickname." Vincente laughed dryly. — "Those sons of bitches!" Vincente threw the bottle against the wall, and the Orc wearing a leather coat poked his head out, looking past the side of the liquor shelves.
— "Chill out, bro!"
The green head vanished again.