2026-01-09 21:54:02
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SWEET POISON
Evans didn’t answer right away. He breathed in once more, letting the smell settle in his nose. Under the sweetness, there was something else. Something designed to sit quietly in the bloodstream and cloud the mind.“I’m sure,” Evans said.Patrick studied him. “How sure?”Evans finally looked at him. “Enough to not drink it.”Patrick’s gaze stayed steady. “And if you’re wrong, you just embarrassed us in front of half the bar.”Evans replied, “If I’m right, we leave alive.”Patrick’s lips pressed together. “So you think it's not just expired. You think it’s drugged.” Mr Patrick used his Celestro Dragon Force ability to read Ethan's mind.Evans did not say yes. He did not say no. His silence was careful. It was survival.Patrick exhaled and leaned back. “Alright,” he said. “Then let them talk. I want to see what this is.”Evans did not relax. The waiter’s earlier smile kept replaying in his mind. Too smooth. Too ready. Not shocked enough for a serious accusation.The waiter returned wi
LUXURY HAS A SMELL
The moment Evans said the drink was expired, the music in the bar did not stop, but the air around their table did.The waiter’s polite smile held for a second too long, like it was glued on. His eyes flicked down to the amber liquid, then back up to Evans, measuring him. Around them, the bar remained warm and expensive, filled with low laughter, soft jazz, and the clean scent of polished wood.“Expired?” the waiter repeated, voice still smooth. “Sir, that’s not possible.”Patrick sat back in his chair and watched without interrupting. He looked relaxed, but his gaze stayed sharp, the kind of calm that came from experience. Evans did not look away from the glass.“Yes,” Evans said. “Expired.”The waiter’s smile tightened. “This is a premium blend. Imported. Sealed. If you don’t like the taste, I can recommend something else, but calling it expired is… a serious claim.”Evans kept his voice even. “Then take it back.”The waiter’s brows rose slightly. “Sir, with respect, you already re
THE TASTE OF SOMETHING WRONG
How could an ordinary waiter guess weather or not they possessed a Dragon ForcePatrick nodded. “Give me this special drink of yours.” Mr Patrick said.The waiter looked at Evans. “And for you, sir?”Evans kept his voice plain. “Same.”The waiter smiled he understood the fact that maybe both Evans and Mr Patrick wanted to keep the identities as people with the dragon force. “Excellent choice.”As the waiter walked away, Evans leaned slightly forward. “A man like you doesn’t spend three million casually,” he said. “And now you’re ordering premium drinks like this is a celebration.”Patrick chuckled. “Do you count every coin?”Evans’s gaze stayed fixed. “I count motives.”Patrick’s eyes met his. “Then count the motive that matters. Blackridge is not a joke. You need to be sharp.”Evans answered, “I’m always sharp.”Patrick’s lips curved. “Then you don’t need to worry about a drink.”Evans didn’t reply. He was still bothered by the same thing. The fog. The locked mind. The way Patrick mo
A DRINK BEFORE THE KNIFE
Evans’s voice stayed even. “I’ll decide whether you’re an ally or another trap.”The elevator reached the top with a shake. The doors opened into the yard filled with rusted containers and cold air. They walked fast toward the sleek dark car that looked too clean for a place like this.Outside, a few underground runners were gathered near the fence. They had the hungry eyes of people who lived on rumors. They stared at Patrick’s suit and Evans’s cheap clothes and tried to understand how those two things belonged together.One runner muttered, “That kid came in with him.”Another answered, “Boris and Silas went in laughing.”A third voice said, “And now those two are the ones walking out.”Evans reached the car first. He opened the passenger door and slid in without looking at anyone. Patrick entered the driver’s side and started the engine right away.As the car rolled forward, the yard faded behind them. Evans watched the exit road like he expected another ambush, but no one moved
WALKING OUT ALIVE
The relic felt cold even through Patrick’s glove, but the satisfaction on his face was warm and alive.Evans watched him in the dim bar light, watched the way the old man’s fingers tightened like a man afraid the world might snatch his prize back. Maelik lay on the floor with blank eyes and shallow breaths. Boris and Silas groaned in the wreckage, their dragon force leaking in thin wisps as if their bodies couldn’t hold it anymore.Patrick cleared his throat and forced his voice steady. “Our work here is done.”Evans didn’t move. “Done?”“Yes,” Patrick said, tucking the relic carefully inside his inner suit pocket. “We got what we came for. Now it’s time to meet Silas Blackridge.”Evans’s eyes stayed on Patrick’s face. “You’re saying that like he’s waiting at a dinner table.”Patrick’s cane tapped once on the cracked floor. “Blackridge is not someone you keep waiting. He isn't someone who is using steady at his residence, even within Drakarion.”Evans glanced toward the broken tables
THE WRONG MAN TO CROWN
Silas gagged and tried to pry the fingers off, but he couldn’t. His Branth runes flickered like a dying circuit, confused by the pressure crushing his aura.“You keep fighting because you think stopping means you lose,” Evans said. “But you already lost the moment you touched me.”He slammed Silas down.The floor cracked, and dust jumped up. Silas coughed, tried to rise, and Evans kicked his ribs with controlled force. Not enough to kill him, but enough to teach him what helplessness felt like.Silas wheezed, his eyes turned wet with rage. “You… you bastard…”Evans bent slightly. “Careful. You’ve been calling the wrong man that word all night.”Maelik’s chest was rising fast now. He had seen fights. He had seen rare powers. But this wasn’t a fight. This was someone deciding whether others deserved to keep breathing.Maelik forced his voice to stay steady. “Enough,” he said. “Stop this now.”Evans didn’t even look at him. “You’re still talking?”Maelik’s pride snapped, and fear pushed
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