Slow Evening

"How long have you been playing?"

I ask Rudy and walked closer to the waterfall. I look at the condition of the black water that flows in the sewer. The place where the temporary waterfall fall is breaking the dark water and make the flow more fluid.

"I don't know? Maybe eleven or so hour or maybe less. I don't remember. Why?"

"That means you need to get some rest and I want to take a couple of hour of sleep as well. This dark place filled with monsters that want to attack us and the slippery footing drains my energy to focus on too many things. Don't forget to tell your friend we'll meet up in 5 hours. Later we can check if there is an outflow or not."

Saying my piece I look at him. He gave me a thumbs up and seeing him opening his mouth I click log-out before he can say anything.

Feeling my conscious back to my body. I open my eyes and wait for a moment before standing up. The crappy feeling was lessening but it's still there. I guess in 3 days to a week it will be gone completely.

Finished cleaning myself up. I look around and heard noises from upstairs. Must be customers. Might as well go up and eat there with those customers.

In our house we have two stairs, one is the normal stairs inside the house and the other one is placed outside at the side that goes straight to our Izakaya (bar & food). Grandpa named it Slow Evening simply because we start opening for business at 6 on the evening and close at 3 or 4 in the weekends.

Our store can only hold up to twenty-two customer at once but the most customer we had was nine and that was one in a purple moon. The customers usually are people who live close by in the somewhat slum town of ours. Sometimes, grandpas' friend comes to eat and drink here but, most of them stop coming after grandpa is dead.

I don't know if it's because of Evs' cooking isn't that up-to-par to grandpa or our drinks is the fault. And if it really is the drinks fault then maybe it was me that just losing my touch.

One thing I know from experiences was "Don't ever degrade your own stuff. You can question it but don't degrade it. Don't overgrade it either." If you start to degrade your own stuff it will haunt you and prevent you to make something better if used wrongly. It can be used as a drive yes, but, not anyone can do that.

Me- Myself especially always strive to be perfect at what I'm doing but what is perfect anyway? One time I create a drink that I thought was perfect then months later I create a more delicious drink. I created it based on my instinct and experience from doing so.

Still, in our society no matter what awesome thing or stuff you made you would only be a labor worker at most if you don't have power. Sure, you can buy power with money but how high can that take you? You won't be invincible with money alone you need power-

"Oh! Hi, brother you're here. What did you want to eat?"

Ev pulled me out of my self multi-mind-debate. I didn't even know how I get up here. I always stayed calm when Eva starts talking about politics and whatnot but I can't help not thinking about it. Will my story be different if I got adopt or if my parents- I never regret what happened, though I keep my revenge tight in my hands. Given chance, just hope that you weren't one of my targets.

"Young man why aren't you answering your little sister question and stunned in place?"

"Yup he is right this time."

"What do you mean this time you old coot."

Once again, I got fished out of my thought. Lifting my head I saw two old men fighting with their loud voices in the long table with drinks and some light food in front of them.

"Ev give me some noodle please, and sweet and sour limoncello."

The two old men are one of our loyal customers. They usually come here once or twice a week and if the two of them met each other they would pretty much debate on everything. I heard they were friends for over fifty years. The men with buffed body own a butcher shop. While the other old man is not buffed but pretty fit, age-wise. He owns a shop that repairing stuff, he is a repairman that fix any mech we gave him for repair.

From what I heard from the two, it was grandpa who helps them to own their shop and land.

It is not hard to get a shop in the slum (as long as you had the power to hold your stuff from getting stolen then you're in the game) but the land is another matter, person from the slum usually build their home, store, or whatever they want without permit (not own) so it was rather hard to get permit for the lands. Besides, the low-class people doesn't have much say in the government office or any official related.

Grandpa Zen with his connection solve all those problems. Now, the slum already developed this far the officials won't be able to ignore us, low-class folks like they usually did. And with grandpa's permit (legal stuff) they literally can't do anything to us, lest they incite the anger of the masses with money or power or pure number. It's like grandpa already planned everything far ahead and that is the first legend Zen the Slum Chief.

There is another legend in the neighborhood that saying, grandpa, is from a race that can live up to a thousand years in our solar calendar. Grandpa Zen had been living in this place for almost three hundred years or maybe more. He literally knows the parent of the oldest person here in the neighborhood.

"Young man, what are you doing these days? I haven't seen you sitting in your candy shop lately."

"I've been diving in these VR game called Brink for a while. It is my first VR game and it far exceeded my expectation. However, insides are quite violent. I was greeted by someone with death on my first few minutes in the game."

Asked by Mike the butcher shop owner I gave my honest review.

I sat two seats away from Alan the repairman. Leaning on the table he smiles at me and put his cigarette.

"World is always like that young Lind. Just don't let that weigh you down. Be strong. Man needs to be strong to hold their own and later they need to-"

"Old man what the heck are you doing babbling like some wise-man in the television. You are stupid so be true to your character."

"What the fuck! Did you just- you looking for a fight asshole? And for your information, my grade was better than you."

Alan slammed his glass of beer and stare at the man sitting beside him. I look at his cigarette falling down the floor from the result of him slamming his heavy glass beer on the table. When I look again, I saw the buffed old man, Mike already took off his shirt ready for a fight. While Alan starts to roll up his shirt. Ready to fight as well with his life on the line… or not.

"Don't fight here uncles I'll kick you out. Here is your noodles, a glass of warm limoncello and a glass of cold water."

When I ready to put my noodles soup in my mouth. At the edge of my view, I can see the two old men stop fighting and look at me. They in sync and said, "Man don't drink their noodles with water, they drink beer instead."

"Piss off! Lemme drink what I want."

"Now that I remembered he cough noodle through his nose once. That was funny."

Then they start laughing their lungs out together with hands-on shoulders of each other. No more of their previous conflict can be seen.

And the one that makes me cough was you two. Who in the world is fighting and tossing their pants outside at their current age? You two was simply hilariously weird to the core. I'm glad their kid doesn't inherit their weirdness.

"Hey, why are you always drinking only a bit of alcohol you made? They're delicious. I preferred beer and ol'ale though."

"It is glassful not a bit and I feel it's enough. I only drink for the taste, not for the tipsy."

""What?"" They shouted at the same time and look at me like I'm a new species that need to be studied.

"Creak'

We look at the source of the sound which is just our old door that always makes a creaking sound when moved. The one who opened the door was a man in his early twenty with chestnut color hair that flows to his shoulder. He is Alan son, Zeph-something who goes to college in the capital city. He had a wavy hair inherited from his mother and thank god he doesn't have the weirdness of his father.

Zeph goes to one of the major colleges in the city by his pure hard work. He had the tenacity and hardworking gen from his father, plus he knows how to smooth-talk his ways. Well, he still sometimes receives some allowance from his father. I guess he's on vacation right now.

"Little Zi and when did you arrive? Did you come with my daughter? Where is she?" Mike asks eagerly.

"An hour ago. No, but, I heard she had a little project and she will be back in a week."

Mike looked dejected hearing his daughter won't be home for another week. Her name is Vanessa and her major is in biology or something similar. I don't quite remember. They, Zeph and Vanessa plan to make cheap bionics for disabled people. Ev said they're in a relationship for almost five years or maybe more. Their mother knows about their current relationship with each other but not their father. Mike and Alan forbid their relationship for silly reasons. Like, I don't want my child in your care, you'll infect them with stupidity and the like. Absurd reason.

"Sit, order what you want your uncle Mike will pay the bill tonight."

"Fine, I'll pay."

"Nice. Free treats always delicious."

"Thank you, Uncle Mike."

Brimming with smile Alan start ordering foods and snacks, and more beer.

"I never said I would pay you as well. Everything you order is on you."

"What! You were one stingy old men. Fine, I'll pay what I ordered. Son order that and that as well for me."

You both are stingy from my perspective.

I saw Zeph walking towards me and he asks "Did you made any new concoction big bro?"

"How are you? That one with green color and purple dot. I name it purple pox."

I finish my meal while chatting with Zeph. We talk for half-hour then excuse myself and going downstairs to sleep. Laying down on my bed I began to think about the hard work Zeph need to put so that he can go to college full of supers in the harsh capital city. Not only that, but he also brought Vanessa to the capital with him. So she can chase her dream.

Everything with a cost. He signs a contract for fifteen years of work in some Mech workshop in the capital with minimum pay and they will fund his 5 years in college (advance school) instead.