Max sipped his coffee slowly, savoring the warmth as it slid down his throat. The bitterness lingered on his tongue, a sharp contrast to the stale sweetness of the city's air. Outside the window, the world continued its dreary routine, workers trudging back and forth, their faces hollowed by fatigue.

Max watched it all with mild boredom, his mind calculating the timing of nightfall and the steps that would follow.

"Excuse me," a voice broke through his thoughts, low and rough like someone who'd spent years breathing in smoke and ash. Max turned his gaze lazily toward the source, a man in his late thirties, his face weathered, his clothes clean but worn. He gestured at the empty chair across from Max. "Is this seat taken?"

Max shrugged, gesturing for him to sit. "Go ahead." he could tell this guy was a powerhouse at least at the C-rank although he couldn't judge clearly.

The man introduces himself as Elias White, his tone calm but carrying a hint of melancholy. His eyes, a dull gray that mirrored the soot-streaked streets outside, held a certain sharpness, as though they'd seen more than they cared to share. He extended a hand toward Max.

"Elias White," he said simply. "I travel, but this city's been my home for the last few months. And you?"

Max regarded him with faint amusement before shaking his hand briefly. "Max. Just passing through."

Elias nodded as he sat with a heavy sigh, as though the weight of the world pressed against his shoulders. For a moment, there was silence between them, broken only by the distant hum of machinery outside. Then Elias spoke.

"This city used to be beautiful, you know," he began, his voice tinged with a bitterness that matched the coffee in Max's cup. "Before that damn mine showed up. There were trees here, rivers that weren't poisoned. Now? All of it's gone. Replaced by pits and fumes."

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Max leaned back in his chair, amusement flickering in his eyes. "The government doesn't care," he said nonchalantly, taking another sip. "It's not like they live here. To them, this place is just a resource to be drained."

Elias chuckled dryly, shaking his head. "You're not wrong. But it's not just them. It's the way of the world, isn't it? The strong rule, and the rest of us… we're just cattle. They tell us we're free, but we're not. We're penned in, led to the slaughter one step at a time."

Max tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "It's not exactly a new story, is it? Humans are their own worst enemy. The rulers manipulate and corrupt, chasing their own ends. And the masses?" He shrugged. "They keep quiet. Fear, ignorance, maybe both. Or maybe they do see the truth, but they choose to ignore it. That's worse, isn't it?"

Elias white stared at Max, his eyes wide, caught off guard by the depth of his words. "You… you're right. I've thought the same, but I've never heard it put so plainly."

Max smirked, setting his cup down. "Why did you really approach me?" he asked, his voice calm but piercing. "It wasn't just for a friendly chat, was it?"

Elias hesitated, then smiled faintly. "You're perceptive. You're right. I wanted to talk to you because I think you're different. I'm part of an organization, new, but growing. We're trying to change things, to fight back against the corruption and greed that's destroying this world. I think you could help us."

Max laughed, a low, sharp sound. "An organization to 'change the world,' huh? And you think I'd be interested in that?"

"You clearly see the injustice," Elias pressed, leaning forward. "You understand what's wrong. Don't you want to make it better?"

Max's laughter faded into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with mockery. "And what's your purpose in all this?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You want to play the hero? Save the world? For what? For who? What's the reward at the end of it all?. The most worthless act, is one without purpose."

The man faltered, his confidence wavering under Max's gaze. "It's not about a reward," he said, his voice quieter now. "It's about doing what's right."

Max's expression darkened, a faint edge of disdain creeping into his voice. "The saddest people are the ones who believe they're doing good, who think they're on the right path, only to find they've been falling into a deep pit the whole time."

The man stiffened, his hands curling into fists on the table. "And you're any different?" he shot back, his voice trembling with anger. "You talk like you see things so clearly, but you're just as flawed as the rest of us."

Max's smirk returned, colder this time. "Oh, I'm well aware of my flaws," he said. "But at least I can see them for what they are. I'm not stumbling around blind. You know, in certain cultures knowing one's own flaws is considered a gift, because only than can you look for answers, only then you can try and fix it, and you seem to lack that. "

Elias stared at him for a long moment, his face a mixture of frustration and resignation. Finally, he stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You're not the person I thought you were," he said quietly.

Max shrugged. "Probably not."

Elias lingered for a moment, as if searching for something to say, then shook his head and walked away. Max watched him go, his expression unreadable.

Max felt some slight sourness from the earlier conversation, so he simply ordered something sweet to even it out, as he finished his coffee in silence, the warmth now gone, replaced by the cold weight of the night that was soon to come.