Merik was holding the wooden flute in his hand while slowly chugging down on a glass.

  Merik noticed that the only eye-catching things on it were strangely carved patterns and symbols that resembled ocean waves, and yet Merik found it quite alluring in its own way.

  To even bid it as a bet and seeing how the grumpy men accepted it alongside Soran’s manor, Merik deduced that it’s a family heirloom of sort for him. He couldn’t help but sigh internally at the man’s blind addiction.

  After a while, Soran came back empty-handed to the table, to which Merik had already expected.

  “I see you still suck at the only thing you do.”

  “I see you still have the same lame-ass haircut since then.”

  Soran quickly responded to Merik in the same deadpan manner.

  “Soran, you really have a serious problem.”

  “I know, the ladies won’t just let me go. No matter what I say or do, they’re just stuck to me like leeches. Not that you could relate.”

  “Not that I want to relate – the girls are just sucking your money dry, after all.”

  “Not that I want them to stop.”

  Soran raised an eyebrow, claiming bluntly to which, Merik grimaced and sighed uncomfortably. Then, Soran continued with a sigh, his scruffy hair slightly shifted.

  “Man, Merik. I know about my problem, and I’ve been trying to cure it long before you were even born. Now, look at me, still as broke as ever and I even almost lost my flute!”

  “Oh, do enlighten me how you’re exactly trying to cure your addiction?”

  “Ahem, like gambling all my possessions away? That means if I don’t have anything to bet, I won’t gamble, right?”

  Merik pondered for a second on whether he should smack his own forehead or the face of this sheepishly smiling and infuriating man in front of him.

  One of the reasons he didn’t want to meet Soran unless he had a very good reason.

  The guy was just plain awful to talk with, not mentioning having to work together.

  Even though Merik kept having second thoughts, he nonetheless decided to come ask Soran for help.

  After all, ...

  “But you’re going to be rich again in no time, right? I mean, if you’re immortal and broke beyond saving, I don’t know if there’s even a cure for you anymore.”

  Merik evidently insulted Soran and yet, the charming man with a loose shirt responded with a smug from which his two sharp fangs glistened with a subtle light, combined with his proudly squinted eyes.

  “Ahem, Merik. It’s not that vampires are immortal, we just live long – long enough to know everything there is to business and what not. As a famous Overseer yourself, you should already know this. Because we vampires are as smart as one can be and a lot of history books even depicted vampires as supreme geniuses who once ruled the world!”

  “Even the mortals sought out for our wisdom with their... mundane, unchallenging works and our kind being humble and kind, were not any less than generous in helping out.”

  Merik, again, controlled the urge to ask for proof of such frivolous facts but he decided to let out his... emotions with a mere long deep breath. The ignorant vampire didn’t seem to notice and kept sprouting nonsense.

  “Did you know our Sanguine Lord was the supreme leader of all beings and even, you mortals had to bow their heads in front of him. Rumors said that our lord is still alive, waiting for his chance at regaining the former glory and I dare say it’s not just a rumor. It’s the truth – the truth that vampires will rule the world once again.”

  The previous mildly annoyed Soran was gone and seemingly replaced by a proud, patriotic vampire, who hopefully yearned for his race’s impending ascension to its former reign.

  Merik nonchalantly answered,

  “I mean it’s great and all but, you should really keep this to yourself. Since, yearning for a future yet to arrive when the past is a constant reminder on what happened to your Sanguine Lord? Did you already forget the whole reason why you guys are in hiding in the first place?”

  Soran’s smile froze instantly and answered in a whisper,

  “Of... of course, I know. How would I... ahem... how would I not know?”

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  He made sure he wasn’t being listened by peering ears, then sipped the drink in front of him in a casual manner but Merik rolled his eyes. Then, Soran changed his tone, with it, his expression and asked,

  “Say, the esteemed Overseer of Peace. What brings you here? You’re not here to just exchange insults or discuss our kind former glory, are you? To what pleasure do I owe you?”

  Merik deliberately lingered both his words and gaze on the glass before steadily saying with a sigh,

  “I want to ask you something...”

  “Then, you must bet!”

  Soran instantly answered with an excited tone as if he had been waiting for it all along.

  Fucking addict.

  ________________________________________________________________________

  “The rule is simple – you have to guess at least three facts about whomever comes in and we’ll clarify such facts by asking them in a roundabout way. We’ll play these three rounds and the first to win two shall be the winner.”

  “A boring game as usual, sure, but Merik, how are you going to clarify things that people want to hide? How’s it going to be then?”

  “That’ll depend on our skill in socializing, don’t you think?”

  “Hmm... sure, but this game sucks... don’t you have a better game to play?”

  “You’re the one who challenged me, so I have every right to decide on the game and the rules. Don’t like it? Just help me with what I want and save me the time. Or don’t tell me, everyone’s favorite vampire is such a bland guy who can’t even read people? No wonder you keep losing.”

  Soran’s nose twitched slightly and with his palms open, he spoke,

  “Alright, then, I’m in. I do lose a lot but Merik, I hardly lose once I focus, so prepare the money.”

  Merik smirked.

  “Neither do I.”

  If he had a choice, Merik wouldn’t play such childish games, not mentioning choosing this weird game of guessing, he and Albert played a lot back in the days. He knew if he were to seek help from the unbearable vampire, he had to play along with his games – that would at least make sure the vampire be fully invested in whatever Merik demanded of him.

  They went a long way back, so, if Merik knew Soran’s erratic yet capable personality, Soran similarly trusted Merik’s calmness and ruthlessness. They stumbled upon one another in an incident and even after, Merik decided to let the vampire stay hidden – not even Albert knew of his existence. They have a mutual beneficial relationship in which Merik would acquire information, service and Soran, money and food over games of gambling.

  Although, he didn’t want to admit, aged vampires were walking tomes of knowledge, after all. Merik only wished he didn’t meet such an infuriating guy.

  Still, he was quite confident in this game – he’d won countless times against Albert, and he considered himself a good judge of character. And, he had kept this game as a trump card of his against Soran, as well.

  What’s a gambling vampire with memory capacity of a goldfish compared to a proud Overseer of Peace of Brownmourn division, anyway.

  Soran extended his hand out in a polite manner, his tone gentle and soothing:

  “Please, my honored guest. You may begin.”

  Merik focused in his gaze on the entrance and after a few moments passed, a person came in.

  It was a man with thick moustache, wearing a seemingly pricey silk bonnet and the rest of his outfits were not any less extravagant. With his heavily squinted eyes, Merik thought him to be a quick-tempered man.

  Once he got in, his intent eyes started darting left and right in search of someone while not even removing his bonnet. Then, suddenly, his squinted eyes and knitted brows eased in a pleasant manner before slowly walking up to someone.

  It was a beautiful woman with lustrous eyes and a figure that could keep gazes stuck to her. The man smilingly touched the shoulder of the woman before slowing caressing her cheek and they calmly went to a table together.

  Soran tilted his head upward when he saw Merik was contemplating. His hand was unknowingly rubbing his chin, after some moments, Merik calmly answered before taking a deep breath.

  “He is a bald man, he’s wealthy and he’s cheating on his wife with that woman over there.”

  Soran raised a brow and questioned,

  “So, that man is your choice and the three facts, I take it, Merik?”

  “Yes.”

  Soran peered at the couple for a while and subtly sighed with flashes of hesitations in his eyes. Then, with a heavy gaze, he spoke:

  “Alright, then, yours truly shall give out his three facts. Ahem. He’s a bald man, he’s wealthy and he’s just taking care of the girl because the girl is his daughter from his past relationship.”

  “Huh?”

  Merik was slightly surprised before an uneasiness slowly spreading over his mind. The moment he was about to ask, though, Soran stood up from his seat and walked up to the presumably couple. Merik had to quickly follow behind.

  Once he got to the table, though, Merik understood everything.

  “Old man Brad, you really like this place, huh?”

  The old man in his silk bonnet quickly responded with a smile.

  “Soran, you bastard. You’re still as dazzling as ever, huh? How many times do I gotta tell you, I’m not old. I’m not old in the least! I’m just aging like a fine wine. Brats like you wouldn’t understand it anyway.”

  “Father, Soran is just trying to greet you. What’s with your language?”

  The old man was instantly flustered and started to comfort his pouting daughter.

  “Oh, oh, I’m sorry, dearest Annie. I’m just joking a little bit, for old times’ sake! Haha. Soran, my lad. Why don’t you join us, father and daughter, celebrating my birthday, hm? You can call your friend brooding like a pregnant dove over there, as well. Come, it's my treat! I can even treat you the entire pub.”

  “Father, don’t disturb Soran and his... good-looking friend. I’m sure they have their own business to tend to. I’m sorry, Soran. My father is always like this when’s he drunk.”

  “Don’t worry about it, my dear Ann. I’m just here to greet you guys and offer my heartfelt blessings! Happy birthday, Brad.”

  Soran signaled with his eyes to Merik who was still standing near, with a grim expression. The brooding Merik gritted his teeth and said,

  “Ha... happy birthday, Mister Brad.”

  “Hahaha. Good lads, thank you, thank you very much!”

  The old man started to loudly laugh and raising his head, his bonnet fell off of his head.

  He was indeed bald.

  Soran glanced at Merik again and politely said with a beaming smile,

  “Well, then. If you’ll excuse me, I do have other matters to tend to. Take care, old man Brad, and my lady, Ann, be shining and beautiful as a sunflower always.”

  Old man Brad snorted slightly with a nod while his daughter beamed as if she was a little sunflower.

  Soran and Merik left and went back to their table. Soran chugged down his drink and spoke first:

  “Damn, it really is a good drink, huh, don’t you think, Merik?”

  Merik said nothing in return.