A Fistful Of Wine.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. After finishing his last class, Miles decided to stop by the university library before heading home.

The library, with its towering shelves and quiet ambiance, was one of his favorite places on campus. The faint smell of old books, mingled with the occasional rustling of pages, always helped him clear his mind. He planned to study briefly and then head home.

After reading for some time, he wasn't in the mood much but figured he could do some light reading or browse through books that might help him understand certain mechanics in Eden's Legacy.

Wandering into the fantasy section, he let his fingers trail across the spines of books. Titles about ancient mages, mythical creatures, and hidden realms intrigued him. One book, 'The Origins of Aetherial Magic', caught his attention.

As he flipped through its pages, a familiar voice broke his concentration.

"Lost in the world of magic already?"

He turned to see Mary standing a few feet away, holding a couple of textbooks.

"Mary? I thought you were heading to the labs," Miles said, surprised.

"I was, but I needed to grab a reference book for the project," she replied, stepping closer.

"And you? Let me guess, looking for cheat codes for your game?"

Miles chuckled. "Not quite. Just reading for fun... and maybe some inspiration."

"Wow, you're really into this game, huh?"

"It's not just a game," Miles said. "It's... an escape."

Mary smiled softly. "I get that. Everyone needs an escape sometimes." She waved her textbooks playfully. "Anyway, don't stay here too long, nerd."

Miles watched her walk toward the checkout desk, a small smirk on his lips. Returning to the book, he decided to check it out.

There was something oddly comforting about having physical books to flip through, even in a world increasingly dominated by digital content.

The sun was setting as Miles walked home, the warm orange light casting long shadows across the street. By the time he got in, it was nearly 5 p.m. He dropped onto the couch with a groan.

The day had been draining, endless lectures, mind-numbing assignments, and no breaks in between. All Miles wanted now was to collapse and catch some sleep, but his shift at the club started at 6 p.m.

It wasn't the dream job, but the salary paid his bills and left some spare cash. Being a student with no degree, he couldn't land a well-paying legal job, so he put up with it.

He closed his eyes for a quick nap, drifting into a vivid dream, only to be rudely yanked back to reality.

Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep…

"Ugh, stupid alarm," Miles grumbled, fumbling for his phone. With only 30 minutes until his shift, he dragged himself off the couch, showered quickly, dressed, and left the house.

--5:54 p.m, at the club.

Miles arrived at the club, just in time. He changed into his work uniform, a crisp white shirt and black pants. Rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, the music pulsed and lights flickered and he settled into the rhythm of serving drinks.

As he delivered drinks, he noticed two women staring at him, giggling and casting seductive looks. Miles, focused on his job, ignored them and walked away, but not before catching a snippet of their conversation.

"Such a well-defined guy. It's a shame he's just a waiter." one said.

Miles smirked internally. 'Thanks for the compliment,' he thought as he continued his routine.

As he delivered drinks to another table, a loud voice interrupted him.

"Hey, man, why the hell were you looking at my girl like that?"

Miles turned to see a guy glaring at him coldly, surrounded by his buddies and their girlfriends.

"Don't play dumb!" the guy snapped. "I saw you checking her out with those perverted eyes."

"Excuse me?" Miles asked, genuinely confused.

Miles sighed, trying to keep his cool. "I wasn't looking at your girl and…"

But before he could finish, the guy splashed wine on his shirt.

"What the?!" Miles exclaimed, anger flaring. "First, you accuse me of something I didn't do, and now you ruin my shirt? Seriously, you rich jerk!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"You're just a waiter," the guy sneered. "I spend more here in a night than you make in a year. And you dare call me a rich jerk?"

Miles had had enough. "Yes. And I'll say it again, you entitled little brat."

The guy's face darkened with rage. "You wanna die tonight, waiter boy?"

Miles didn't flinch. Miles wasn't one who knew how to fight, but he knew a few things about fighting and also knew how to study a person well enough to think of something to do.

"If you think you can take me, go ahead and try." He spoke.

With a roar, the guy lunged at him, throwing a wild punch. Miles sidestepped smoothly, delivering a sharp counter-punch to the jaw and an elbow to his chest. The guy staggered back into his chair, coughing and spitting blood.

The crowd erupted in gasps and whispers.

"Did you see that?!"

"That jerk had it coming!"

Miles leaned down, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to dab the guy's bloodied mouth. He dropped it onto his chest.

"You should get that jaw checked out," Miles said coldly. "Or just ice it for a week. You'll be fine." His grin was menacing, sending a chill through the guy.

The guy muttered weakly, "What kind of devil are you?"

Miles bent closer and whispered, "The kind who doesn't have time for idiots like you. So, get lost."

As he straightened, the sharp voice of his boss cut through the stunned silence.

"Miles! What the hell have you done?"

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