The 'owner', who clearly had seen his fair share of life's hardships, happened to catch Florent's gaze.
He paused for a moment, then a faint smile spread across his wrinkled face. With stubby fingers, he pointed at Florent and then gestured to a slightly open spot at the bar in front of him.
Unsure of what the man wanted, Florent walked over to the bar and stood close to him, ready to hear what the man had to say.
Before Florent could even ask, the rough-looking owner spoke in a gruff tone, "Kid, you're clearly new to this kind of place. I've seen hundreds like you every year, clueless and out of place. Let your uncle here give you a little introduction."
As the man spoke, a strong smell of alcohol hit Florent. He didn't follow the man's lead or respond. Instead, he stood there, scanning the menu on the bar, and said calmly, "One 'Starry Sky'..."
The man chuckled and said to the bartender, "Looks like our little friend here is trying to play the big shot. Alright, let's humor the kid, haha!"
The man's crude words drew low, vulgar laughter from the surrounding patrons. Florent suppressed his disgust, his brow slightly furrowed, but he remained silent.
The man continued, "Alright kid, you look like you're here for something. Since you're being so straightforward, go ahead and spit it out."
Florent, holding back the urge to punch the man, said coolly, "I was sent by 'The Scholar'. As for what it's about, I don't think I need to explain further."
The man's expression shifted slightly, showing a mix of surprise and confidence, "Huh, 'The Scholar'? Haven't heard that name in four or five years. He's probably dead by now. Are you his nephew? Or his son? Whatever. Hey, Ober Wright you little rascal, stop lazing around and get over here! Take this kid upstairs to an empty billiards room. I'll be there in a minute."
Just then, the bartender finished mixing the cocktail called 'Starry Sky'. Florent took the drink, which had a deep blue-black base with specks of silvery powder, and silently followed the young man named Ober Wright upstairs.
Ober, however, wasn't intimidated by Florent's cold demeanor...
He chattered away, "Hey, man! Your outfit looks awesome. I've seen a few guys like you over the years, clearly not from around here, and they all got invited upstairs by the boss. What's the deal with you people? I'm dying to know, haha!"
Florent initially ignored Ober's rambling, but when he mentioned 'over the years', his interest was piqued...
He asked with a hint of curiosity, "Ober, how long have you been working here? Tell me about the others like me you've brought upstairs."
Though Florent didn't answer his question, Ober didn't seem to mind.
He continued enthusiastically, "Me? I've been at the 'Flame Axe' for a while now. Not as long as some of the old-timers who've been here six or seven years, but I'm one of the most experienced hands around. The boss trusts me, even though he's always yelling at me... When it comes down to it, I'm the one he relies on."
Florent could tell Ober was the talkative type and didn't stick to the point, but he still managed to gather that Ober hadn't met his father.
That made sense, Martin had been brought into the 'Flame Axe' by his own father, but Florent had never heard much about his grandfather...
As Florent pondered this, Ober kept rambling, "...Anyway, about a month ago, I brought a guy upstairs who was a lot like you, some noble or rich merchant's son. He was even colder than you, but he was sharp. He had the boss tied up in knots with just a few words. In the end, I took him upstairs, and he had a long talk with the boss. So man, what's the deal with you people? What are you here for?"
At this point, Ober looked at Florent with eager eyes, clearly hoping for an answer. But Florent didn't respond right away. Instead, he thought for a moment.
By then, they had reached an empty billiards room. Ober opened the door, and Florent stepped inside...
With a faint, teasing smile, Florent said, "It's complicated, but also simple. We're here to make a deal with the boss. But these deals aren't something we can talk about openly. If the deal goes through, death could come knocking at any moment, and the government and the churches would see you as an enemy. Still want to know more?"
Florent's playful smile made Ober's heart skip a beat in fright...
The young man forced a calm expression and said, "Pfft, you rich folks are all the same, always spinning tall tales. Ober here doesn't care about your secrets. A good bartender knows not to pry."
He muttered under his breath as he opened the door, "I'll head out now. The boss needs me. I'm too hardworking to waste time here. I'm the reliable Ober Wright, after all. The boss will be here soon."
With that, Ober quickly closed the door behind him, and Florent could hear his hurried footsteps fading away.
Florent shook his head with a slight smile, then scanned the billiards room...
He pulled out a chair, set his cocktail on the table, and leaned back comfortably, resting his elbows on the pool table and his head on his hands. As he thought about his next steps, he waited for the boss to arrive.
Less than ten minutes later, Florent heard the door open. He picked up his drink and turned to see the boss walk in.
The boss, whose face showed his age but whose body still seemed strong, didn't wait for Florent to speak...
With a hint of amusement, he said, "Not bad, kid. You're young, but you managed to scare Ober, that little troublemaker. He's got a sharp tongue, but you're the first guest he's brought up here who's made him nervous."
Without pausing, the boss added, "You're here to become a Beyonder, and you? No, wait... you're already one, aren't you? 'The Scholar' was the same when he first came here. Alright, you can call me Sam Widows. Looks like we'll be seeing a lot of each other."