After a long day of labor, the bar was swarmed with sore bodies. Exuberant laughter resonated from the throat of a brawny man with a sideburn style beard and mohawk hair. He was surrounded by his fellow goons who looked up to him for his strength and by the ladies who were after his capability to house them.
"You took down a Curse Level 4 vessel? That's crazy, boss!"
"Heck yeah, the moment it saw me the thing scampered away. I wasn't going to let it make a trophy out of us!" Barak proudly said before chugging the entire glass of beer, foam sticking to his mustache.
"You're so strong Barak, so impressive," a middle-aged lady flirted, she drew seductive circles on his chest.
"Scram Adora, Barak is mine," a younger bar girl snapped and slapped her hand away.
Barak chortled. Clearly his ego was getting more inflated by the territorial ladies.
"Don't fight. The two of you will get your piece of Barak later."
While the boisterous group fussed over how amazing he was with his magnificent muscles that could take down high-level vessels—a lanky, no-named, jealous person, belonging to the lowest rank of achievers was loathing him from the corner.
"Look at him boast," Jinx murmured bitterly. He took a small sip of beer and spat it out— cringing from the bitterness of it.
"You're wasting cannites," Karma sighed and sipped his juice.
They didn't take on missions just to waste money on Jinx's damaged pride and insecurities.
Jinx was on his fourth glass of beer but he wasn't even close to being tipsy. There was a bucket beside him and as he drank he spits it immediately, not standing the taste of the fermented drink.
"I'm 18, I'm trying to train my taste buds to like beer."
Karma looked at him with his bored aquamarine-colored eyes. His head was on the table, his dark hair was tousled and a small mole underneath his left eye added to his handsome looks.
"You're trying way too hard that I almost feel sorry for you. Almost."
Jinx glared at him and grasped the handle of the glass tightly. His honey-colored eyes pinned at Barak before he mimicked the bigger man and swigged the entire glass. Karma twirled a strand of his hair around his finger and watched his idiot companion prove that he was the idiot of the year and he would still be an idiot for the next years to come.
Once Jinx downed his third glass. His speech was slurred and he praised Karma for his handsome looks as he hiccupped.
"Karmaaaa...if I had your looks, I would be hitting on Adora by now."
"If I had your age I promise I would hit you but then again I don't need to be 18 to hit you," Karma drawled.
Jinx fell out of the chair and then pulled himself up.
"I'mma take a piss. He walked forward, stumbling from one table to another from his uncoordinated movements.
With another strike of bad luck that always happened to Jinx for which caused his parents to name him that, he clashed against Adora. To prevent her from falling on her arse, Jinx grasped her soft buttocks, much to his pleasure.
The lady was shocked. Her shock then turned into confusion and then into anger. A scream of a woman being maliciously offended broke the rapturous night of hard-working men.
"What right do you have to touch Barak's woman?" One of his goons queried.
Chairs scraped the floor and Jinx froze, ready to be shot down. Karma sank from where he sat, used to seeing Jinx get himself jinxed.
He almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
"Boys, let me handle this one. Let your mighty Barak teach this little wuss a lesson!"
Cue the girly dreamy sighs and the fanboy screams.
Barak took a swing and Jinx ducked and crawled under the table, shivering and trembling and close to peeing himself.
The bigger man slammed his fist on the table and broke it into pieces. Jinx was under another table by then, struggling from the hands trying to restrain him and offer him to Barak.
"Karma help me!" Jinx pleaded.
"I don't know you!" Karma shouted back with a nonchalant expression.
Once Jinx was cornered by Barak and his men, the shadows coming from their bodies consumed what light illuminated his figure.
He was going to be butchered meat at any second and honestly, Karma wouldn't care less what dish they would make him out to be. He won't take a bite of him. He would rather not have an upset stomach.
Jinx wet his pants, snot dribbled from his nose, and he was whimpering like a kicked puppy. Throwing away his attempt to be an adult, he screamed the name of his guardian, catching the men off-guard.
"Why's a pipsqueak like you calling an excom like him? You must be dreaming if you think he's going to come to the rescue of some dead loss," Barak belittled and snorted.
A lazy tap on the shoulder turned Barak's head. His eyes stared up at piercing yellow ones where lavender locks had slightly blocked. Barak was the tallest man in here and his height was ludicrous for many. Having someone taller than him made everyone's eyes widen in awe.
The newcomer was wearing a white armored robe with the crest of a winged sword securing the white cape flowing behind him. The ivory high-neck robe fitted his slim yet muscular figure, enhancing his elegance, his alluring charisma and his mysteriousness behind the white mask covering his mouth. The obsidian-colored metal protecting him, the silver chains hanging loosely across his chest, and the white biretta that lay a shade of mesh in front of his face made him outstand the mediocre clothing style of the low-class.
The crest of Ecclesia Academy securing his robe was disrespected with a deep line of scratch. He stood there, holding a black umbrella like it was a staked sword.
"That pipsqueak you so insult is my good-for-nothing assistant who is best at excessively lacking success," the tall man defended.
If that was even considered as fighting for his subordinate.
"Sir Salem, I think I'd rather be called pipsqueak than what you just described me with, Sir," Jinx spoke with tearful eyes and a bitter smile.
Barak gave him a cocky grin.
"I heard you tamed a Curse Level 5. I don't know if those rumors are true or if they're just exaggerating. You don't even have a weapon on you. What are you going to do— shade them with your umbrella until they die from the lack of sun?" Barak mocked, hauling laughter from everyone in the bar.
Karma almost felt sorry for Barak. Almost.
Once the laughter died down, Jinx was already beside his master, holding his umbrella for him.
"Oh you want a piece of Bara--"
A gloved hand came in contact with his cheek before he could finish his sentence. The wall of the pub broke, almost in the shape of Barak's figure. The man was sent in a preposterous distance with one slap of the hand.
Everyone's feet were glued to the ground, not knowing how to react and how to give remedy to their ill- treatment of the bunch.
The excom spread his hands in a welcoming motion before sliding his arms parallel to each other.
"May the Spirit of Elysians be with him."
"And also with you," Jinx responded to give respect to the person who led the process of how vessels were usually captured and tamed.
Salem made eye-contact with those closest to his periphery.
"Does anyone else want a blessing?"