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.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPtmwbee5Pd
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.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡewt3cL18y1
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.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkE1EV5Ggca
‘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.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlXOgybINQu
The girl covered her mouth with her hand.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDO0Cqab70n
‘I thought you’d be satisfied with this much. I really wanted that warrior figurine. I had to leave it because of you.’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCHWb0mj1X7
‘You could’ve just taken it,’ Lukacs shrugged.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡETeQGPymX6
‘And you’d handle the cops?’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3QRcQYr6QI
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.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB1hiRdf8Qt
‘Keep it. I’ll buy myself another one,’ he said.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ15asFgI7yL
Zoé tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with sudden realization.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2dH7gHoeJg
‘So this is how you make me owe you. Clever.’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjq92wMV4ek
Lukacs sighed.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp5RXslUUDs
‘Rematch?’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0AwcuxhWIg
‘Rematch.’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeDT4aQz8XS
Lukacs nodded in satisfaction. Zoé grinned.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡowvqUruVDM
‘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?’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmZPMCQ2AfX
Lukacs spat on the ground.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHFMZkSWyGM
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.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxZ4RMK5INW
‘What happened there?’ they murmured.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK6i7U4lrc0
‘Someone got sick,’ an old woman muttered.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEgHL0wBSSC
‘Probably because of the prices, like in that Sheep O. Slaveman story.’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy26IDGYeG9
‘Which one?’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt37MqcMGOP
‘You know, the...’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJz8Q8QDUgc
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.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwB2q0f4tCk
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:67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCCb4Itk6iO
‘Do you know what happened across the street?’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTwRybxnDaM
‘I snapped my fingers, and someone had a heart attack,’ Lukacs replied.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu0hnNS925o
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...’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeB8shTzAKu
Lukacs sighed. Zoé nudged his arm and pointed to a rack of Kinter Bountys near the register.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSPTzlSzlvL
‘Want one?’ she asked.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAJULFbKRY7
‘I want to split it with you.’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgi4bk1w4O6
‘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:67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX5TjahQgcI
‘I still want to go buy a phone and some new games for the Gamestation afterward.’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDfY5bi4z5p
‘Sure.’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9GIbChShjz
‘I won, remember?’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5TigKvV3y7
‘Shut your mouth.’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRI0a87y0jY
Zoé giggled again.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ8D3Oa5zay
‘You’re so funny, Lukacs. Did I ever tell you that?’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0VWdC5QGVf
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.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡteLzbF1ze6
What kind of car does he drive?67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZKmJQUIceb
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."67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ94sOCnATDH
‘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.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUviAVUPbBk
‘Cash or card, sir?’ the cashier finally asked.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrsl5gjvY7R
‘Cash.’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU0w1mdrdTY
‘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:67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcBiVuCftvP
‘But, sir...’67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbt8ER3uqaF
Lukacs grabbed his vest and stared deeply into his eyes.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtW8zqGvK97
‘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.’
67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWyulA6jYKc
67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHYrFtjbH4h
important note: "Till" is the same like USD
ns160.79.111.143da2
