"Don't compare me to this idiot."
Vi clearly had no respect for Mylo's comment.
"I'm not stupid enough to be like this big oaf."
"That's because you don't know the first thing about tech, Vi... If you understood gadgets the way Mylo does, you wouldn't call me stupid."
"Heh."
After only a few exchanges, the conversation had already gone off the rails again, and Vander decided not to press any further.
"Alright. Just keep your eyes open and don't end up hurting one of our own."
"Relax. Since when do I screw things up?"
"If you're that short on cash..."
Vi, who had been quietly thinking about something, suddenly spoke up.
"Why not hit Piltover? The people up there are way richer... At least the teeth you rip out would probably be gold."
The whole bar went quiet.
The only sound left was Powder noisily sucking on her straw.
"Here we go again..."
Vander was long used to Vi's hatred for the topsiders.
It was only natural. Anyone who had watched their parents die at the hands of topsiders as a child would have grown up carrying that resentment.
And Vi was getting older now, deep in that reckless age when nothing seemed frightening and everything felt worth fighting.
But this time, instead of stepping in right away, Vander looked at Van.
Just as he expected, Van frowned, his expression turning serious.
"Why would you even think that, Vi?"
"What's wrong with it? Why do topsiders get to dump poison gas into the Undercity, pour their filthy wastewater down here, even kill our people... and all we do is give them a little payback?"
Vi's voice had turned sharp, her words heated.
"You need money anyway, don't you? If you've got guts, go take it from Piltover!"
Vi's provocation had no effect on Van.
"That's different, Vi... The Undercity has its own way of doing things, and Piltover has its own rules."
"Hmph."
Vi snorted in contempt.
"So that's it? You're scared of topsiders?"
"Yeah. I am."
Van admitted it without the slightest hesitation, with no attempt to save face in front of Vi.
"We are nowhere near strong enough to go up against Piltover... Picking a fight with them does us no good."
"Mm-hm. Van's right."
Vander nodded, clearly pleased with the answer.
That was also why Van could keep pestering Vi again and again and still stand here in one piece. In Vander's eyes, the boy was unusually reliable for someone his age in the Lanes, and that counted for a lot.
"So what, we're supposed to live like gutter rats? Spend our whole lives curled up in the sewers? Until their poison gas chokes us to death? Until their wastewater poisons us?"
The more Vi spoke, the angrier she got. The memory of her parents dying at the hands of Piltover Enforcers was a wound that had never healed.
"What got into you today, Vi? Who pissed you off?"
"Nobody has to piss me off for me to complain."
"Alright, alright."
Vander topped off Vi's orange juice and set the glass down in front of her, then ruffled her hair.
"Vi, I understand how you feel, but we have to think about the bigger picture—"
"The bigger picture again. I'm sick of hearing it."
Vi shrugged off Vander's hand, stood up in a huff, and swept the coins Van had tossed onto the counter into her palm.
"Since you love roaming the Undercity so much, you won't mind doing a few jobs for free, will you, Torvan?"
With that, she turned and headed for the back door of the bar, which led to the room shared by the two sisters.
Though in the Undercity, "girls' room" was far too delicate a term. It was really just one of the gang's many hideouts.
Once Vi left, the other three didn't linger either. After saying goodbye to Vander, they hurried after her.
"Well, there goes my drink money."
Van shrugged and shook his head helplessly.
The fact that Vi had called him by his full name meant she really was angry.
Still, Van didn't care. Vi was not the kind of girl who needed coddling.
Vander smiled, took out a glass, then carefully picked a good bottle from the cabinet—something well-made, but not too strong. He poured half a glass and slid it over.
"Those were the words of a man... so I suppose you can handle a man's drink."
"Well, that's a nice surprise... Though Vi probably thinks I'm a coward now."
Van quickly snatched up the glass and took a big, eager gulp.
"Cough—cough!!"
It was the first drink of his life, and the burn hit so hard he doubled over coughing, eyes watering on the spot.
Seeing Van make such a fool of himself, Vander couldn't help bursting into laughter.
"Tell me honestly. Don't you resent Piltover at all?"
"Hm?"
Vander took out his pipe, struck a match against the table, lit the tobacco, and took a long, satisfied pull.
"Among the young men in the Lanes, there isn't one who doesn't hate Piltover."
"Like I said, we're no match for Piltover..."
Van pulled one of the straws out of Powder's cup and idly stirred the drink with it.
"I saw what happened on the Bridge of Progress myself. These fists of mine might be enough to throw my weight around in the Undercity, but against Piltover? Forget it."
"You really do take things in stride. When I was your age, I was still a hotheaded fool who feared nothing. Even after I built up the Lanes with my own hands, I still thought I could stand against Piltover and change Zaun..."
Vander blew out a ring of smoke. There was no melancholy in his face, only calm.
"Alright, I'm busy here. Go play somewhere else."
"Play? Come on, I'm basically grown already, alright? Everything I do is serious business."
"Oh? You mean roaming from alley to alley, picking fights and dragging whole groups into brawls?"
"I'm fighting for my future."
Van frowned and took another careful sip of the liquor.
"I've told you before, sooner or later I'm going to be the next Hound. So I'm starting now—building my reputation while I can."
"If you want to inherit my mantle, it won't be that easy, kid. You'd be doing well just to hold this bar."
Vander smiled, took Van's glass from him, and topped it off to the brim.
"Fists matter, but they're not the only thing that matters."
"Then what else do I need?"
Van rubbed his chin.
"A beard like yours?"
"No, no, no. A beard this manly doesn't grow just because you decide you want one."
Vander chuckled, poured himself a drink too, then lifted his glass toward Van.
"When you're a little older, you'll understand."
[End of chapter]