Chapter-138

The receptionist's response to Sin's polite tone and explanation was a subtle but significant shift. Her posture relaxed ever so slightly, and a trace of empathy appeared in her gaze. She understood the weight of their quest and the emotional toll it had taken on Fatty Jack.

"It's quite all right," she replied with a gentler tone, a willingness to extend understanding in the face of their circumstances. "I hope you find the answers you're seeking, and I apologize if I couldn't be of more help."

Sin offered a sincere nod of gratitude, appreciating the receptionist's willingness to let the incident pass without further escalation. He recognized that their journey to find Lita was fraught with challenges, and maintaining composure and respect toward others would be essential.

Sin, known for his strategic thinking and level-headedness, considered the situation carefully. He couldn't help but acknowledge the validity of the receptionist's explanation. The events surrounding Lita's visit to the restaurant had transpired not yesterday but the day before. In the bustling world of the eatery, where countless faces came and went, expecting perfect recall from the receptionist was indeed a stretch.

The realization settled in that expecting anyone to remember a patron from two days prior, especially when no significant incident had occurred, was simply not realistic. Sin recognized the importance of being pragmatic in their search for Lita.

With that determination in mind, Sin contemplated their next steps. It was clear that they needed to expand their search beyond the Mother's Blessing restaurant. Their quest was far from over, and they would continue to explore every avenue, chase every lead, and follow every thread in their relentless pursuit of the truth.

When Sin made the decision to leave the restaurant in the company of his rather ignorant acquaintance, Jack, little did he anticipate the strange turn of events that would soon unfold. They had just pushed open the heavy glass door, and the ambient sounds of clinking cutlery and hushed conversations slowly faded as they stepped out into the cool evening air. But just as they were about to set off on their way, they were interrupted by an unexpected voice that disrupted the tranquility of the moment.

The voice, strong and commanding, cut through the air like a knife. It belonged to a tall, imposing figure standing at the restaurant's entrance, who had just directed a question towards the bewildered receptionist. Sin, his curiosity piqued, came to an abrupt halt, his footsteps arrested by the sheer peculiarity of the situation. Jack, oblivious as ever, continued shuffling forward before realizing that Sin was no longer by his side. He turned around, his expression a mixture of confusion and annoyance, but Sin's intense focus on the source of the voice kept him silent.

The person who had spoken was holding a rather incongruous object in his hand—a frying pan. The sight of a man, presumably the restaurant's owner, wielding a kitchen utensil in such a bizarre context only added to the surreal nature of the encounter. Sin couldn't help but exchange a bemused glance with Jack, who now seemed equally intrigued and bemused by the unfolding spectacle.

As the receptionist began to speak, she introduced the enigmatic figure before them as the owner of the restaurant. This revelation startled Sin even more. He had expected the owner to be someone older, perhaps grizzled and experienced, given the establishment's reputation and the elegance that exuded from every corner of the restaurant's interior. Instead, what he saw before him was a young man, not a day over eighteen, or so it seemed.

The owner's youthful appearance was utterly astonishing. He had the kind of smooth, unblemished skin that usually belonged to someone much younger. His hair was impeccably styled, his clothes crisp and fashionable. He was the picture of youth and vitality. Sin couldn't help but wonder how such a young person could be the proprietor of a restaurant that exuded sophistication and tradition.

However, the owner's voice was a stark contrast to his appearance. It carried a weight of experience and authority that one would associate with someone much older. It was deep, resonant, and held a certain gravitas that demanded attention. It was as if he had lived a hundred lifetimes, each one leaving its mark on the timbre of his voice.

The juxtaposition of youth and experience, of appearance and voice, left Sin intrigued and perplexed. He couldn't help but wonder about the story behind this enigmatic young restaurant owner. Was there some secret to his youthful appearance, or was it merely a facade? And how had he acquired the commanding voice that seemed to belie his age? As Sin and Jack were introduced to the owner and the conversation began, they found themselves drawn into a world of mystery that promised to reveal itself in unexpected and fascinating ways.

The cool air hung around them as Sin began recounting the unsettling story of Lita, the fiancée of his friend Jack, who had been cruelly abducted. The restaurant's owner, despite his youthful appearance, leaned in attentively, his eyes reflecting a curious mix of empathy and intrigue. He listened intently as Sin delved into the details of the incident, hoping that the owner might have some insight, no matter how small, into Lita's mysterious disappearance.

As Sin's words unfolded, the story painted a grim picture of despair and uncertainty. Lita, a woman caught in the throes of an unforeseeable tragedy, had become the central figure in a story that had shaken the lives of those who knew her. Sin's voice carried a sense of urgency, a plea for help that resonated through the chilly night air.

Turning to Jack, Sin implored him to describe Lita's appearance in more detail. He knew that the key to finding her might lie in the uniqueness of her features. Jack, visibly shaken by the memories that flooded his mind, took a deep breath before responding. "Her most striking appearance," he began, "was her green hair, which is incredibly rare in this world."