CHAPTER 120 – PAIR OF DEGENERATES

LYSANDER FARADEISS

My head felt like it had been spun in a blender, and the world swam hazily before me. It took three slow blinks before the room came into focus.

"Lysander! Lysander! Are you alive?" Meike's voice cut through the fog of my thoughts.

An attempt to raise my head was met with a searing pain, a sensation akin to being kicked by a horse. "Ah, I wish I was dead," I groaned, the words escaping me like a lament.

"Can you wake up Johnny for me?" Meike's request carried a note of annoyance.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, I struggled to push myself upright. My gaze wandered, settling on the dreary ceiling and the cold, unforgiving walls. Bars. Prison. A familiar sight, almost comforting in its familiarity.

Ahead, Meike stood in her rumpled house clothes, her orange hair still damp. She'd rushed here, I could tell. To my left, Johnny Wolvesbane lay sprawled, his snores echoing through the room, his belly exposed like a mountain's peak.

Summoning a reserve of strength, I nudged Johnny's protruding stomach. "Rise and shine, Johnny boy! Your mom's calling!" I quipped, trying to inject humor into the bleak situation.

"Argh!" Johnny's response was immediate, a mixture of groan and retch as he curled up like an armadillo, expelling last night's excesses onto the floor. "Blargh!"

Johnny's retching echoed through the cell, a visceral sound that summoned the jail warden, a stern dragonoid adorned in the Republic's uniform. He stood beside Meike, keys in hand, a silent reminder of our precarious situation.

"I knew it was you, Centurion," the warden remarked, his tone a mix of resignation and warning. "Try not to cause any more trouble in this town. I can only cover your mess this one time. The Republic will fall if they discovered that their Dragon Lord is a drunkard."

With a clank, the door swung open, granting us our freedom. I silently thanked whatever favor Johnny held with the dragonoids, grateful for the leniency afforded to us.

"Come on, Johnny," I urged, rising to my feet. He followed suit, and together we stepped out of our cell.

"Why were we in jail?" Johnny's voice was thick with confusion, his hand pressed to his aching forehead.

"I don't know. I don't remember," I confessed with a shrug.

"Me neither. Damn," Johnny muttered, his expression a mix of frustration and regret.

As we made our way through the corridors of the police station, Meike's fury found its voice. "You pair of degenerates!" she scolded, her words cutting through the air like a whip. "You useless piece of crap, Johnny Wolvesbane! I've had it with you! You're a walking failure!"

"I love you too, darling," Johnny replied with a sheepish smile, attempting to diffuse the tension with humor.

I couldn't help but laugh at his response, but as laughter bubbled up, so did the remnants of last night's indulgences. Rushing to a nearby trash can, I expelled my share of alcohol-induced regrets. "Blargh!"

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"Pffft!" Johnny's mocking laughter cut through the air like a knife.

Meike's expression soured, her gaze filled with disgust as she watched the two of us in silent reproach.

Having emptied the contents of my stomach, I collapsed beside the trash can, struggling to catch my breath as I spoke. "So... that was just one drink?"

"Well, we took it one glass at a time, didn't we?" Johnny chuckled. "At least there's no drama."

"There is!" Meike's voice was sharp with accusation. "You two sexually harassed an old man!"

"I don't remember," Johnny immediately denied, his words tinged with uncertainty. Perhaps it didn't happen, or perhaps the memories were lost in the haze of the night before.

As the jail warden finally signed our release papers, Meike, the only semblance of sanity among us, accepted them with a heavy sigh. Together, we exited the police station and ventured into the grimy streets of Scrap Town.

"Meike, activate Vesryn Pulse and take us home," Johnny commanded, his hand pressed against his chest as he channeled mana.

But Meike wasn't having it. Hands on her hips, she shot Johnny a venomous glare. "Screw you, Johnny. You two can walk." With a swift movement, she unfurled her draconic wings and soared into the sky, leaving us behind in a cloud of dust and disbelief.

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The trek from the slums of Scrap Town to the Republic of Dragons headquarters was nothing short of hellish, each step a reminder of our own folly. But by the time we arrived, the long walk had done wonders for our hangovers, leaving us parched and desperate for relief as we made a beeline for the water dispenser.

Johnny's top-secret HQ offered a welcome respite from the chaos of the outside world. Stocked with supplies akin to a grocery store, it provided a sense of comfort amidst the uncertainty. As I caught sight of the new sofa, exhaustion washed over me, and I collapsed onto it like a ragdoll, craving nothing more than to sleep away my headache.

Meike, now in a markedly improved mood, had prepared coffees for us, her gesture a silent apology for the earlier tension. With a grateful nod, I accepted the steaming cup, its warmth soothing against the ache in my head.

"So..." Johnny's voice broke the comfortable silence as he took a sip of his coffee. "What's the plan now, Lysander?"

I shrugged lazily, sinking further into the sofa. "I'm just going to sit here and feel sorry for myself."

"No, I mean, about the war," Johnny pressed on. "Shouldn't you be returning to the Empire's Sanctuary? I could always try to trick Gazelle into thinking you escaped."

I lifted my head, the weight of Johnny's words sinking in. "A part of me does want to go back, to check on my friends... But there are bigger threats at hand."

"The obsidian-faced mermaids and the corrupted Dragon Lord," Johnny surmised.

"Exactly," I affirmed with a nod. "And what about you? Will you flee the war with Meike, seek peace elsewhere?"

As I posed the question, I couldn't help but notice the subtle change in Meike's demeanor. Her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink as her gaze met Johnny's, a silent exchange passing between them.

"Not yet," Johnny replied, his tone resolute. "After all you've endured because of me, it's only fair that I return the favor and help you out. Not until the war is over. Besides... that obsidian thing worries me too."

"Do you know anything about it?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued.

Johnny nodded thoughtfully. "Only a little. I was there at the start of the Purge of Humanity, when Gazelle bombed Atlanticus and killed all the mermaids. I recognized some of their faces, saw them again during the attack on the Dragon's Fortress."

"So, they're zombie mermaids?" I ventured.

"Probably," Johnny confirmed with a shrug. "Gazelle mentioned something about the Empress of Alterra using the orb of Exceria to summon a foreign god. I wonder if that's connected to the obsidian-faced mermaids and the corrupted Dragon Lord."

My fists clenched involuntarily. The urge to return to the empire, especially to Hiraya, gnawed at me. But amidst the chaos, trust was a scarce commodity. Gazelle Lockwood and the Republic of Dragons were wrong for purging humanity, yet the Empire of Alterra's methods were equally dubious. Something felt off, a nagging sense of unease that I couldn't shake.

The idea of Regression Magic surfaced in my mind, a potential safeguard against the uncertainties of the future. With it, I could rewind time, correct mistakes, and perhaps find the truth hidden beneath the layers of deception.

"I will stay," I declared, locking eyes with Johnny. "I need to return to the ritual site and recreate the circles for the Regression Magic."

Johnny regarded me with a serious gaze, his brown eyes probing mine. "Are you saying you'll formulate the Regression Magic from scratch?"

"I'll see what I can do." I tapped my temple and smiled. "I have some of its magical formulas up here."