The next morning at the base of the 3rd Squad, after the celebration had died down.
Nyne approached a corner of the hall that was structured to look like a reception desk.
He placed his mug, which oozed hot steam, on the table and the thudding of his mug against the table attracted the attention of the lady behind the desk — she was beautiful with a slim body and huge glasses on her beaming eyes.
The mug contained a golden brown liquid with hot steam ousting from its top. The thin string of a teabag hung freely from the smooth edge of the mug.
Nyne exhaled deeply as he took a sip of the hot tea, moaning with satisfaction.
Nyne tilted from side-to-side to side to relax his neck and gain little relief from the pain he was feeling.
"My head hurts," he murmured to himself.
"Then you had a lot to drink last night at the ceremony, I presume" the lady said, dumping a heap of papers on the table.
Her sudden emergence from under the table startled Nyne a little bit.
