What's Real?

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I tried not to think too much and kept observing her from a distance. A few minutes passed before someone finished their book, paid for their drink, and left. Seizing the opportunity, I got up and sat on the now-vacant chair beside her.

"Something light, please," I ordered.

"Dear customer, we have a rule here—you must be reading a book to place an order," the bartender explained politely.

I complied without complaint, grabbing a random book before returning to my seat.

"Something light, please," I repeated.

"Okay," he nodded, then got to work. His movements were precise and rhythmic—mixing, stirring, shaking exactly four times before pouring the drink into a glass and sliding it my way.

I took a whiff. The aroma was sweet and sour, with a sharp note of alcohol. Curious, I took a sip—and was instantly surprised. My eyes widened slightly, a low groan of appreciation escaping before I could catch myself.

Perhaps hearing me, the girl beside me asked, "Are you new here?"

"Yeah," I replied, turning to the bartender. "This drink's amazing. What's it called?"

"Creepy Jewels," he answered briefly.

I grunted in acknowledgment.

"The bartender's incredible," Hansel commented. "Anything he mixes leaves you wanting more. Too bad he only serves one drink per person."

"Why?" I asked instinctively, but the bartender offered no answer.

"No one knows. Some say he's preserving his stock; others think it's part of his marketing strategy," she said.

Here in Aegis, getting goods was both difficult and expensive. Pillagers and bandits prowled the outskirts, ready to loot anything that came through. Some businesses hired Honors for protection—and that extra cost drove prices through the roof.

I grunted in understanding. "How long have you been coming here, miss—"

"Hansel. And you can drop the act, Synnefo. No... you go by Sunny nowadays, right?" she said calmly, though a hint of annoyance laced her voice.

"The name 'Sunny' just came to me one day," I said, offering a small shrug. "Call me Synnefo if you want."

"No, I'll stick with Sunny. Your real name's too hard to remember. How is it pronounced anyway? Sin-ne-fo, or Sain-ne-fo?"

"The former," I said, giving her a slight nod.

"I see. So, what do you want from me? If you're thinking of capturing me, you should reconsider. You're just a Grade A Honor—you wouldn't be able to hurt me."

"I'm not here for that. I just want to confirm something."

"We had nothing to do with the attack at Gram's night market, nor are we interested in that device," she said, cutting straight to the point.

I stared at her for a few seconds, puzzled. "You knew?"

"Nothing escapes us—or captures us," she replied coolly, taking a sip of her drink.

"So Ginto's house... that wasn't your doing?"

"Ginto? Oh, the mercenary. No, his house and his family's deaths weren't our doing," she clarified. "Hey, don't you think you're painting us too evil? We don't just kill anyone."

I paused, reflecting on their reputation. Their organization was made up of outlaws and suspicious people, sure—but whenever they took on a mission, they never harmed innocents. Only those directly involved. Though... their methods were notoriously brutal.

"You're right. Sorry," I said after a moment. Then, shifting gears, I asked, "Do you know Igor?"

It might've been my imagination, but I caught a slight hesitation just as she was about to flip a page. She continued reading, acting as if nothing happened.

"He's an old friend," she said. "But if you're looking for information about him through me, forget it."

"I'll pay."

"It's not about money," she said firmly, closing her book and turning to face me. "It's about loyalty. I owe the old man a lot. The last thing I'm going to do is betray him. If there's nothing else, leave."

"I get it," I said. "You respect him. But it's not me who wants to know—it's his son."

"His son?" She frowned at me like I'd just grown a second head. "What are you talking about? His son died a few years ago."

I froze, the words hitting me harder than expected.

For a moment, I couldn't speak. When I finally found my voice, I said, "You must be mistaken. His son is alive and well."

"I don't know where you're getting that from, but you're wrong," she said, her voice flat. "I saw his body. I attended his funeral."

My frown deepened. I sat there, thinking carefully, then asked the next question that came to mind: "Then... why did Igor commit suicide?"

"I told you already—I won't answer," she said curtly.

Silence stretched between us. There were a thousand things I wanted to say, but the words tangled and caught in my throat. Worse, revealing everything I knew could put Calvin's life in serious danger.

Still... I needed answers. I couldn't move forward without them.

"His son is alive," I said quietly.

"You—" she started sharply, but stopped when she caught the look in my eyes. Her irritation faded into cautious seriousness.

"Tell me everything," she said. "I'll decide for myself whether to believe you."

I nodded and began to speak, sharing everything I knew. Whether it was the right choice or not, I didn't care. I was ready to accept the consequences.

"That damn old man..." she muttered under her breath. I wouldn't have heard it if I weren't an Honor.

"Hansel," I said slowly, "can you tell me what's going on?"

She sighed. "Since Yurim sent you here, I guess it's alright."

I almost laughed at that. It wasn't Yurim who led me here—it was Goo Han. I should've asked how he did it.