“Perhaps you should go inside, boy,” Carmen waited inside the pub. The warm brushed on my skin.

She got out of her wheelchair, and supported herself with a cane. I considered taking off my duster, but my armor made the endeavor impossible. The pub reeked of poor booze.

All around me were tables and the drinkers who sat next to them. I could tell that the tables were terrible despite them being new.

Many eyes stared at me.

“Hey, how about ya stop gawking, and welcome the Imperial for me?” The old lady chimed in.

Carmen walked around while Lyle leaned against the wall. His gaze never left the room. Lyle’s friendliness was less than palpable. I sat on the cleanest barstool I could find. My fingers tapped on the worn-out wood.

I swiveled the barstool, “guess I have to see you at some point,” I directed at the bodybuilder. He stood behind the bar serving drinks.

“Look, we got off on the wrong foot,” the barkeep said.

“No, you started off the wrong foot,” I said back. “Not one point had I been aggressive, and you felt the need to push. You’re no different than a bully with a modicum of power.”

The bartender deflated, “I am not that… or at least don’t want to be. Is there a way that I can make it up to you? I don’t wish to become just another jerk in Snakewater.”

“I guess there have been too many jerks in Snakewater recently,” I muttered. “The reaction you made isn’t terrible, but is misplaced.” I leaned in closer on the table, “never mistake compassion for naivety, but compassion leads to naivety. You need to know when to act kindly or when putting your foot down is the right answer. There will be people who will put you down, demean you, people who will pull on your ears…”

My ears fluttered. I noticed that I was talking about myself rather than the barkeep. I cleared my throat, “the point is that acting nice has its time and place. Know when degenerates are taking advantage of you, and when violence isn’t the answer.”

“You gave me much to think about,” the barkeep said. “I dunno — Snakewater long crushed any enthusiasm I had left.”

“A light in shining darkness: as long as there’s hope, there’s a way.”

“Look, if you need anything, you don’t need to worry, got it?”

Like Carmen, he offered free drinks as a matter of pride. The bartender wasn’t taking no for an answer. I never thought that generosity would be so suffocating.

I tapped my fingers on the wood, “Old Lady Carmen offered me the same not long ago. I’m afraid that I can’t drink alcohol while on duty,” and honestly, I’m afraid that I might do something stupid. Not like a single shot of liquor can get me wasted.

Right?

The barkeep cleared his throat, “there are other drinks that I can make for you.”

“Like what, you’re going to mix orange juice and grenadine for me,” I snarked.

“I can try something with milk in it.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” and so is every beastkin apparently, I sighed.

“How about Fresh Cola instead?”

“Am I a joke to you?” I screamed. There is now the disgusting phantom taste in my mouth thanks to him.

“Alright… we can leave drinks for now. The kitchen is clean enough, I can make ya something quick. There has yet been a single rat in all my time here,” he said as a symbol of pride.

“Thanks, but I think there’s nothing you could cook that could fit my palate.”

“Nonsense, I can cook you up a hamburger, some onion rings…” I glared at his words. “Uh, how about fish and chips?”

“Did you say fish?” My ears perked up.

The barkeep set aside a dish of battered fish and fries for me. My knife pressed on the batter. The sound made a nice crunch. Golden-brown was the texture.

I put the first bite in my mouth. The batter was the right amount. Any more, and the fish would’ve been soggy, or overcooked. I set the cutlery on the table. The tartare sauce had tart. I looked at my fries.

Stolen novel; please report.

The rats I killed came back into my mind, and I no longer had the appetite.

“Is there something you dislike about the food?” The bartender asked.

“No, nothing,” I shook my head. “Your battered fish is delicious. I just had a big breakfast today. My diet doesn't allow for much grain or starch; so too much chips is going to make me sick.”

“Oh, I see,” he took the plate to the back. “Beastkin and their diets… Uh, no offense to you, of course.

Yeah, take the food behind, where you ‘throw out the leftovers’. Reality is a different story. The plate is empty by the end, so how should I tell?

I grumbled in my barstool. I checked my flask, it was empty since Lyle drank most of the contents. I made a mental note to fill the flask up later. The barstool swiveled as I leaned on the counter.

“Hey, Old Lady Carmen!” I yelled out. “I notice that you aren’t carrying a beer with you,” Although that wasn’t the only odd thing I noticed. Lyle walked outside the pub, probably from the cold reception he received. “Are you under some obligation, or are you rethinking life choices?”

“I have lived for too long to be thinking about philosophy, boy” Carmen limped over with her cane. “Besides, I long destroyed my kidneys drinking during my teachin’ days!” She was lively, “how bout’ we listen to you, boy? Hear the story of how ya slayed the monster in the shape of rats. Everyone’s wonderin’ how the giant smoking crater ended up here.”

Residents of Hognose Street packed the pub. They ceased their drinking as they overheard us. Carmen’s words had an effect on the residents. Even when silent, everyone listened. I guessed the huge pit of smoke was hard to ignore.

I was visibly shaken.

“Gather round, gather round, no need to get uppity,” The Old Lady said.

The barkeep went back to the bar. He gave me a side-eyed glance from behind. He firmly leaned on the countertop as focused on me. I deliberated on his proposal, but I shook my head.

I took in a couple of deep breaths. So many thoughts raced in my mind. Telling them about the truth was out of the question.

Instead, I spun a tale of heroics. Made the cretins, rats, and robots more monstrous than they were, a more romanized version of the events. I purposely left out the part where the ladder collapsed, how I almost meowed. Every single mistake and blunder I remembered never left my mouth.

My hands mimicked the story that I portrayed. Each fight sounded of valor. I copied from the stories of yore, like the story of Alexander The Great.

But, I’m no hero.

I finished my tall tale, and the pub clapped for me. The atmosphere was bittersweet. I let out a sigh as others looked away. The pub grew more rowdy.

I sat back onto the barstool. There was good cheer and celebration within the drinkers.

“I’ll live forever!” A man said with a flushed face and a red nose.

He carried 2 mugs before stumbling. He fell, and the mugs crashed; sending beer on the group. He was covered in his alcohol when others held him up.

I focused my attention back onto the bar.

“That's one hell of a story,” the barkeep cheered.

“Yeah — one good story,” I stared into my orange juice.

“Hey, you don't seem so happy.”

“I was expecting my time to be different, that's all.”

“If you don't like staying, then you can leave,” he said while cleaning a glass.

“I can just leave?” I leaned in closer.

“I'm not prying hard, you look to be in pain staying here. See what Old Lady Carmen's doing?” He pointed, “you can slip out before you’ll disappoint her.”

I watched as Carmen berated the guy who split the beer with her cane. I nodded my head at the bartender.

I snuck out while the old lady caused a commotion.

A cold breeze washed on my face while I opened the door. The sun lowered down the horizon, late in the afternoon. My breath visibly showed in the chilly air. Summer time was nearing its end. All the residents wore their coats.

Lyle waited at the curb. He seemed unbothered by the cold. I was unfazed as well. Our condition reminded me about the anima treatment. How my physical capabilities were supposedly enhanced. There were some nuances that I didn’t know. Lyle stared deeply at his revolver. He must’ve heard me at some point.

My eyes lingered on his gun, “a left-sided revolver, how quaint. Do you happen to be right handed by any chance?”

“No, I use my right hand, like everyone else,” he replied.

I sat down next to Lyle. The shouting from the pub could still be heard. “Is there any particular reason why they would give you an odd gun?”

“They never gave me anything,” he looked up. “I had it since I was young.”

“Who thought giving you a gun as a child was a good idea?” My ears twitched.

“Some things are left buried in the past. I don’t like your questioning.” He went quiet before speaking again, “why did you go away from that witch anyway?”

His insult of Carmen no longer had the offence it once held. I disagree with him. Sure, but I don’t hold any strong belief.

I let out a habitual sigh, “Old Lady Carmen is a nice woman, but she puts her community above my own sensibilities.” My ears lowered while I talked about her. I told him some of my doubts, and how she responded. “Maybe you were right — all she had was her agenda.”

Lyle was speechless. He never expected me to admit that he was correct. Honestly, I did think that he was partially right.

I continued, “you didn’t deserve what Donovan and Dolores did to you. All those cold glances at the pub. What Carmen potentially said behind your back. Not even for a person like you deserves that. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare say sorry to me!” Lyle yelled and everyone stopped, including me. He quieted his voice, “nobody should care what happens to me — I don’t.” He stood up, “I waited for long enough… And Mekiko, stop trying to understand, it’ll be better for the both of us. Because you’ll start expecting me to be more, and I can’t be that.”

All I offered was a sigh.

Yeah, nothing more, I surmised.

We were going back to our duties, as usual. We patrolled around Hognose street.

Although, I had a feeling that something was wrong.

Probably nothing.