Lukacs and Zoé walked out of the shopping mall. People rushed past them, an ambulance wailed in the distance, and a small crowd had gathered in the parking lot. Lukacs glanced toward the people, briefly considering whether to send the entire group after the boy with a single snap of his fingers. Then he realized he didn’t have enough charge for that. He’d need to recharge soon—preferably tonight.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWdxMaP6sEd
He reached into the pocket of his coat where he kept his cigarette heating device. Without a word, he handed it, along with all the refills, to Zoé, then took her hand and led her across the street.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwHE4WkAErw
They’d have to find another store since they couldn’t pay for the items they’d picked out here—after all, a young boy had suddenly fallen ill...
...
They stood in front of the supermarket across the street while Lukacs studied the display window.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSRTVtYfsN2
‘When we get home, I want a rematch,’ he declared, speaking more to his own reflection in the glass than to Zoé, who was smoking beside him.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxR9GcDeulc
The girl covered her mouth with her hand.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpTXxTZGXJY
‘I thought you’d be satisfied with this much. I really wanted that warrior figurine. I had to leave it because of you.’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVAb9pnalR7
‘You could’ve just taken it,’ Lukacs shrugged.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEhtBZbnud1
‘And you’d handle the cops?’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ76m00lQWUy
Lukacs shrugged again. Zoé exhaled smoke and flicked the spent refill away. The butt spun through the air, bounced off the curb, and rolled under the cars. Lukacs looked at the girl, who held out the device to him with her large yellow eyes.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0sVpi3nwgv
‘Keep it. I’ll buy myself another one,’ he said.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvstiqOEUgB
Zoé tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with sudden realization.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWa9RIby5V3
‘So this is how you make me owe you. Clever.’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ95nZf8KvA9
Lukacs sighed.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBDd6hplhN7
‘Rematch?’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmc5qCjiQsY
‘Rematch.’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡquW6jRMEP0
Lukacs nodded in satisfaction. Zoé grinned.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfFLvEFx2rO
‘But I’m only playing for fun today. Hope you don’t mind.’ She twirled into the motion-sensor doors, arms outstretched. ‘So, are you coming, or what?’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSFB6AQCDt3
Lukacs spat on the ground.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX57HqxRP7h
His saliva didn’t hit the pavement until after they’d already disappeared between the aisles. It slid down the supermarket’s glass wall, right where Lukacs’s own reflection had stared back at him moments earlier.
...
They piled the most diverse assortment of chips, nachos, gummies, chocolates, plush toys, and beers into their shopping carts. Zoé only filled two carts, but for Lukacs, that was more than enough. Some shoppers lined up at the windows to watch the ambulance parked in front of the other supermarket.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj05sGGFeMX
‘What happened there?’ they murmured.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCrmqMWRBGz
‘Someone got sick,’ an old woman muttered.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa6KsMCdRQR
‘Probably because of the prices, like in that Sheep O. Slaveman story.’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBSWao5vJpP
‘Which one?’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBlzCeh0Rd4
‘You know, the...’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE0QWq7zMv1
Lukacs waved dismissively. He knew Sheep O. Slaveman’s dystopian tales but had never related to them. The protagonist always found himself in situations with no way out—facing unaffordable prices for items anyone should be able to buy; caught in bomb threats at malls where you couldn’t leave without paying first, and only with a card, and so on. Lukacs thought it was all utterly bland and pointless. No one cared about another person’s suffering; no one cared about anyone else’s fate. Why should a poor man read stories satirizing his grim reality? And why should a rich man read about the exploitation of the poor in critical, sarcastic prose? It was meaningless.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPC2xNuWNdw
Lukacs was still shaking his head when he and Zoé got in line to pay. In front of them stood a slick-haired, greasy-looking bureaucrat, chattering into the phone pressed to his chest. When he noticed them, he turned and asked:51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUtOxT9K7Tg
‘Do you know what happened across the street?’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjnnwDvngGy
‘I snapped my fingers, and someone had a heart attack,’ Lukacs replied.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmnjh4IxcA3
Zoé burst out laughing, and the bureaucrat nodded blankly before returning to his call.
‘No, darling, I didn’t learn anything; some dad was joking earlier. No, darling, I can’t get you anything from there. You’ll have to settle for what’s here...’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxKyOh2jenr
Lukacs sighed. Zoé nudged his arm and pointed to a rack of Kinter Bountys near the register.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAJkSPxobOQ
‘Want one?’ she asked.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfxlVIczWXt
‘I want to split it with you.’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHu6zhHwaXO
‘Oh, how sweet,’ Lukacs replied sarcastically, tossing a handful of Bountys into the cart with exaggerated flair. Half of them fell, which wasn’t surprising given the mountain of chips they’d already built. Smiling, Zoé crouched to gather the chocolates. Casually, she added:51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYWjfPxcfCn
‘I still want to go buy a phone and some new games for the Gamestation afterward.’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL2mKNY2nj2
‘Sure.’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcRHTtNLciF
‘I won, remember?’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOcACPWcpDP
‘Shut your mouth.’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpqBiD3FfFt
Zoé giggled again.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ1dIManQwp
‘You’re so funny, Lukacs. Did I ever tell you that?’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4PPEQz1qK4
Lukacs shook his head, ignoring her.
The bureaucrat quickly paid—with a Black Card, of course—and rushed out to the parking lot. Lukacs was sure the man was one of the wealthy from Silk Valley. Thinking harder, he might’ve seen him before. Lukacs watched him closely, even ignoring the cashier as Zoé began placing their items on the counter.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3ja0fSOEmM
What kind of car does he drive?51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcsMzI8drvu
Standing on tiptoe, he spied the man getting into a plain white Nustang from two years ago and backing out of the lot. Lukacs exhaled in relief. He doesn’t have a better car than me. He unclenched his fist, realizing he’d been ready to snap if the unyielding truth demanded it.
He turned to help Zoé, noticing the cashier’s disapproving glance for not assisting his "daughter."51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB6UQYJPxyN
‘Is there a problem, kid?’ he asked the cashier, clearly a student worker.
Once, Lukacs had worked too—though not for long. Until the day he found the wallet. But as a teen, he spent afternoons behind a register, working late to help his father and brother, and to afford weekend outings. Memories of those days flashed before his eyes like a distant, faded film.
Those drunken nights by the Ren River near his high school; stolen kisses from classmates; hazy, lavender-tinged rooms filled with the scent of passion. He saw the boy he used to be—charming, angelic, a true ladies’ man. Those teenage nights lived forever in his heart, an eternal homage to his past self.
Of course, everything had changed the day he found the wallet now resting in his coat’s inner pocket—the wallet that gave him everything and took it all away.
I should’ve left it where it was.
The student silently scanned their items while Zoé packed them.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRnixg2B75R
‘Cash or card, sir?’ the cashier finally asked.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMkXpWakvaI
‘Cash.’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCMCNad3BbP
‘That’ll be 120 Till.’
Lukacs reached for the warm leather wallet, breathing faintly, as if alive. Inside was the exact amount, along with two black cards engraved with the image of Sheramiel, the rebel archangel. He handed over 120 Till, then stuffed the remaining ten thousand into the cashier’s pocket. The boy stammered in protest:51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaDHL4naKNW
‘But, sir...’51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyknUd3UetI
Lukacs grabbed his vest and stared deeply into his eyes.51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIvQnBrJGmV
‘Keep it, son.’
...
They walked out just as the deceased boy’s body was being loaded into the ambulance. Lukacs shook his head, pushing their cart toward the car. Zoé followed happily, loading the trunk. Lukacs glanced at the crying girl beside the ambulance and considered killing her too—it would be merciful. Ultimately, he dismissed the idea, savoring her suffering. Maybe he’d ask Sheramiel or Braxas for her address, just for fun.
‘I could use a smoke,’ he muttered.
Zoé silently handed him the device. Lukacs’s eyes briefly glimmered with an unusual mix of emotion—gratitude, perhaps. He waved her off and resumed packing.
‘Forget it, Zoé. I already promised to get another one.’
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51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0IBXEk3GMq
important note: "Till" is the same like USD
ns3.128.79.196da2
