Chapter 7.5: Interlude

A faint sound murmured in the silence, disappearing into it with the same subtlety.

It was him announcing his arrival: Argi Blakemore.

He had turned off the motorcycle that had brought him, an expensive RCN M16 model, and parked in front of a cheap settlement in the middle of an empty neighborhood.

His footsteps were so silent that even in such a place they couldn't be heard.

Glancing from side to side with his intense blue eyes, he removed his black helmet and bike suit before heading off.

The first thing that could be distinguished about him was his hair, black as a lake at night and, like it, outlined by the vibrations in the water. Yes, he had a certain peculiarity, in addition to his already slick back cut; some of its strands were completely white despite being young.

In short, he wasn't someone ordinary, much less normal.

Leaving the motorcycle behind, he took a pear from his pocket, which he ate as he continued on his way.

It seemed like just another abandoned place, but upon entering the modest building, this immediately proved to be different.

Music was playing in the background. Disco music, to be more precise.

Such a racket matched the setting perfectly; a complete mess.

Half-empty beer cans littered the table with poker cards, underwear hanging from the ceiling fan, and junk food scattered on the floor…

Just entering that place was reason enough to feel uneasy, but it didn't seem to affect the visitor at all.

The man selflessly waded through the storm while continuing to eat his fruit.

Dodging the broken glass, he turned off the stereo and, without bothering to knock, entered one of the few rooms.

Now the first thing he noticed was an uncomfortable smell of "maturity," and in the middle of it, a long double bed occupied by the person he was looking for. It seemed there was no need to wake him after seeing an extravagant afro peeking out from between the purple sheets.

"We're leaving, Dregan," the young adult announced without preamble, his voice direct and expressionless.

"Hm... What...? Did you get here...? Now...?" the sleepy man questioned.

The afro, a party wig, fell off his head as he and a duo of completely naked maids woke up.

They turned out to be a pair of young, slender twins, blonde and blue-eyed, and identical in appearance except for one of them's hair tied back in a twisted ponytail.

"Oh, the boy..." the woman with loose hair murmured. "I haven't seen you in a while..."

"Hello." The newcomer gave a curt greeting “You've... done this in just a few days.”

“Yeah… It's lucky for you you weren't here… I'm still feeling a little dizzy” she commented, shaking her head after a huge yawn.

“(Not everyone is made to live under the same roof)” Argi thought as he looked around, ready to finish the pear he was eating.

The man didn't wait to welcome the person he was looking for into the room as well.

Without paying the slightest attention to the fact that he was dressed the same way he came into the world, the 'host' stood up and extended his arms.

“The one in a million! The blind man! The DAMN Dreaming Dragon! Introducing Argi Blakemore himself! You're finally back. How I've missed you, my brother.

The truly strange thing was seeing him hug him without flinching at all.

"That's so wrong in so many ways... You two are a pair of weirdos," the ponytailed girl declared in disgust, still covering her body with the bed covers. "If you greet someone, do it with pants on at least... "

The girl had woken up in a bad mood for one simple reason: neither she nor her sister would receive any payment for their personal services the night before.

However, the simple reason he had authority over them was to pay them with 'their safety.'

"Damn, if I wanted a whiny whore by my side, I would have gone back to my ex," the guy smiled as if his words were everyday vocabulary, even though he made sure to look for something to cover his exposed body.

Dregan took his time looking for something to wear. Argi, however, was wearing a formal white shirt, dark blue knee-length shorts, and sneakers. He didn't really care what he was wearing as long as he was comfortable.

"..."

The unsuspecting woman couldn't help but retract her words when she remembered her payment. But she wasn't wrong in what she said.

The young woman, lowering her head in obedience, noticed a faint drip on the bedroom carpet; a slowly spreading reddish stain, coming from the arm of the man waiting at the door.

"I-I suppose you have things to talk about. We'll leave you two alone... Sister, let's take a bath," she said while shaking her barely conscious twin.

"Mhm... It's very early... Dregan, will you pay for this session next time?"

"I can't hear you...!" the mean man replied, his head rummaging through a closet.

With no other choice, the two female twins left the sheets behind and prepared to leave the room. But before doing so, the woman with loose hair paused for a second next to Argi and murmured.

"If it were you, I'd always do it for free."

He maintained his composure but couldn't ignore the seductive sight and the lustful proposition. Silently, he simply gave both the room to leave.

"Oh, he blushed."

"So cute."

They were lying. That didn't change his lost gaze. After all, he had come to that place with a purpose.

Once the two men were alone there, they returned to business.

"You're a total freak, Argi... I can lend them to you whenever you want."

"Some more than others, but we're all distorted; we're human," he commented as he readjusted the bag onto his back, ignoring the offer. "Hurry up."

“…And I wake up every morning wondering, why don't you have a lover yet?”

“I'm not socially ready for that.”

“Ha ha ha, you don't need to be to have a night of affection.”

Dregan Bardawulf, 22 years old, with a stocky body, lightly dark skin, and bright amber eyes. Such was the description of the shameless man Argi was chatting with.

They knew each other perfectly; they had been 'seeing each other's faces for several years, to the point where they were aware of each other's ways of thinking and acting.

“Well… Should I ask what it is now?“ Dregan questioned, ruffling his messy hair in front of a mirror. “As you can see, I was very comfortable a moment ago.”

“It's taken them too long. It's time to intervene.”

“Did you bring me a gift from your trip?“ He demanded unexpectedly, like a child. “…Besides the stain on my new carpet.”

Of course he'd noticed, his bloody hand, intentionally hidden behind his back.

It wasn't that he was trying to play the victim, he was just avoiding an unnecessary conversation that would slow them down even further.

"I'm not sending my brothers to you just to make an 'appearance'... Tell me about the outcome of your looooong journey on La Quilla." Again, he abruptly changed the subject.

"It's unnecessary for you to know; you're not the right person for it."

"Family comes first," Dregan demanded, smiling broadly as he formed a symbol on his chest. Clasping his hands together, he showed the silhouette of what resembled a face.

The silhouette of a wolf.

He was ready, with his unbuttoned shirt and long, white bell-bottom pants; the way he liked to dress.

Argi took a few seconds to think and turned around when he saw that they were both ready to leave.

"...It'll be along the way. Time is precious.”

And the moment he turned around, he revealed something else he was hiding.

Longer than a dagger and shorter than a sword, a crimson-inked Wakizashi strapped to his back.

What kind of person would walk the streets carrying something like that in the 21st century?

Dregan wasn't surprised in the least. Enthusiastic, he walked past him, patting him on the back as he announced their departure.

"Heh, they're waiting for us..."