The streets were brimming with people, to the point where it felt like a can of tuna. Mark, Luke, and Angela were enjoying their time in a bar—well, enjoying is too much to say.

Luke kept gulping down beer after beer, as if his stomach were an empty ocean ready to e filled. Angela kept staring around, pretending not to notice the lustful glares of the random drunkards.

Mark was the only one to enjoy himself, finally free from his hellish training. He put down his mug, which was half empty.

"Damn it, guys. Who knew I’d end up wishing that I could drink a beer. A fucking beer, me? Do you know what I’m saying?"

Luke nodded at him through hiccups, his face already as red as a tomato.

"Just how did you get yourself in that mess again?"

Angela’s face was painted with curiosity, yet a good part of her wanted to give Mark a good smack for randomly dissapearing.

Mark went on to tell his story, which didn’t surprise anyone. His mates were already used to random things like that just happening, just like that time Luke was kidnapped.

"So, now we have a war-game on our hands, all because someone,", her eyes fell on Luke, watching him like an eagle watching its prey, "thought they were better at ordering soldiers around than someone with actual experience."

Luke put his mug down, only to ask for another refill.

"Oi, come on *hic* I’m actually good, right, Mark?"

Mark stared akwardly, yet he confirmed his words.

"Despite being like this sometimes, he can actually do a lot of things when he feels like doing them. He’s smart, can’t argue with that, yet he also enjoys drinking a bit too much. That and beautiful women, he’s sure to try something."

"See? Cheers!"

He heaved his cup, as of clinking the other’s mugs, and flowed that ale down his throat.

Angela watched in disgust, then her expression changed, as if a sudden realization struck her.

"Mark, you said he’s sure to try his luck with a beauty, right?"

"Yes, I did."

"Then why-"

Her words were cut short by Mark’s brutal honesty.

"Perhaps he doesn’t see you as beautiful."

She smacked his head so hard that his head hit the table—so hard, in fact, that the entire bar stared at them for a good few seconds before going back to what they were doing.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Scratching at his wound, Mark could only stop himself from cussing out the ever-living bloodline out of Angela.

"The hell’d you hit me for!? I only answered your question. Just because he doesn’t find you good looking doesn’t mean you’re ugly. Jeez."

She watched him in silence, the fact that she was puzzled written all over her face.

"Do you... think I’m pretty?"

Mark glanced at her, his hand stuck in the same spot, not moving. His eyes were opened wide, seemingly struck to the core by that sudden question.

"I’d rather keep my opinions to myself, you see..."

She just stared down, a gloomy aura surrounding her.

Ugh, dang it, why me? Those were Mark’s thoughts.

"Yes, you’re pretty. Ok, better?"

Despite trying to sound so nonchalant, his face spoke his true feelings out loud. He was putting Luke’s red face to shame.

Angela looked at him with glowing eyes, a soft smile on her face. She stared at him for a few seconds, before catching herself feeling weird.

The rest of their stay was a bit awkward, with Luke going on about his drinking, not caring at all.

As nightfall came, so did the need to finally rest. Certain stands were still open outside, selling different products to whoever wound up there for a stroll.

Inside the inn, Mark was carrying Luke’s unconscious body up the stairs, while Angela kept laughing at the idiotic duo.

"Who knew that Luke could drink that much? He told me some drinking stories, yet I didn’t expect THAT much."

Angela giggled, watching the struggling Mark drag around Luke like he’d drag a ragdoll. A few more steps, and Luke was thrown on the bed, his body twisted in a weird way.

"I’m not moving this bastard any more. If he breaks his back mid-sleep, then so be it."

"Do you want to go outside for a bit? I didn’t get to walk around with you, after all..."

Her gaze pierced Mark, going right through him like he was molten butter.

"Well, why not? After all, I do enjoy walking around. I used to go out during the night back in my world. Damn, I sure miss those guys."

Angela watched as he forced back a tear. She knew about everything they had lost, yet they were holding on better than expected.

They walked together, yet silence kept third-wheeling.

The hell am I supposed to say? I have no social skills whatsoever. How should I make this less awkward?

Mark’s mind was a jumbled mess, like a computer overheating and exploding. No matter how much he tried, he didn’t have it in him to find a subject to talk about.

"So, what’s your old world like?"

Angela’s shy voice forced Mark onto the defensive. He hadn’t seen her act like that before –at least not on a usual basis. She was always yelling at him, smacking him, or doing the same to Luke.

"My old world," you say. Well, the place was... good. It wasn't the best, but it was good. We had no magic, and society was developed more on the basis of science. Your technology is lacking, yet in a few years it could skyrocket, that is, if someone had enough interest in the mechanical side of things. Building a basis around magic is no good, since..."

He kept going on and on about technical issues, what could happen to society, and whatever random details he could remember.

Angela kept listening, to her own surprise. Just how am I able to listen to him talk about all that? It’s so boring, yet seeing him talk like that makes me want to listen.

She knew what was going on, yet admitting it was like burning her own house. Am I falling for this moron?.