Alex strolled through the bustling streets of Gaxbrug City, his gaze taking in the remarkable transformation as he made his way towards the downtown area.
The once magnificent buildings, vibrant people, and bustling shops had undergone a noticeable shift, morphing from a state of beauty to one of decay.
It seemed as though the entire city had been divided into two distinct parts: uptown, representing progress and advancement, and downtown, embodying a more primitive and neglected aspect.
For Alex, whose previous experiences had been limited to witnessing the marvels of the world, this was a harsh reality check.
It marked his first encounter with the hidden underbelly that existed within this fantastical realm.
Reflecting on the situation, Alex couldn't help but ponder, 'It appears that nothing truly changes for humanity. Even within a world of fantasy, they still manage to foster a duality, ensuring that the less fortunate are consigned to their designated place.'
After strolling around the city, Alex finally saw the place he was looking for: "Miner's Pub." This was the place that had been mentioned in the mission details as the usual hangout for Jack Reed and Francis Mullen.
Alex scrutinized the place. It was a worn-down, one-story shop with the sign hanging crookedly from the wall. Trash and empty bottles of alcohol were scattered around the store.
Alex decided to enter the shop, but as he approached, he hesitated. His appearance seemed too polished for this kind of establishment.
He had forgotten to adjust his clothes, or you could say he didn't expect to arrive at a place like this.
'I should change my appearance,' Alex thought to himself and headed to a quiet place. After checking that there was no one around, he swiftly swapped his attire for a worn jacket and a pair of tattered pants.
"Something doesn't feel right," Alex murmured after checking himself and added, "I still look too clean."
Crouching down, he scooped up a handful of soil from the ground, deliberately smearing it all over his clothes. As a final touch, he smudged his face with dirt, achieving the desired effect.
After taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down, Alex murmured, 'Let's meet the infamous Jack Reed,' and made his way back to the pub.
As Alex turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door, a piercing screech echoed through the pub, that could be heard even in this noisy pub.
Hastily, Alex entered the pub, catching the attention of some of the patrons who turned their heads and remarked, "Oh, I thought Thomas had finally arrived."
Alex found this peculiar welcome a bit confusing, but he brushed it off and headed towards a vacant bar stool. Meanwhile, he carefully scrutinized each person in the pub.
Alex mused, 'Even after all this, I still appear cleaner than them,' shake his head ever so slightly.
"Can I get a soda?" Alex asked, leaning towards the old man behind the counter.
The old man turned his attention to Alex and responded, "We don't have soda in here," then left Alex alone again.
"Top-notch customer service," Alex muttered sarcastically and addressed the old man again.
"Then can I get some water, please?"
The old man looked at him for a few seconds before finally grabbing a bottle of water and tossing it in Alex's direction. "Here you go," he said curtly.
Alex reflexively caught the bottle and, while drinking, turned his attention back to the noisy crowd in the corner of the pub.
Alex's ears caught the sound of an angry voice piercing the air.
"Until how long do we have to endure this?" exclaimed a brown-haired teenager, slamming his hand on the table.
Although Alex couldn't see the teen's face clearly, a recollection of Jack Reed's picture from the mission details allowed him to deduce, 'His body shape and hair look very similar to Jack Reed.'
"Calm down, kiddo," an old man said, puffing smoke into the air.
'That must be Francis Mullen,' Alex affirmed.
The teenager turned sharply toward Francis and retorted, "How can you expect me to stay calm after what they did today?"
'And there's Jack Reed,' Alex added.
Francis let out a weary sigh. "Kiddo, you're too young to grasp the whole picture. Just heed the wisdom of your elders."
"They unleashed a damn monster on us, and you think I don't understand?" Jack snapped back.
"I'm too young, huh?" Jack added sarcastically.
"Then what the hell am I doing in a dungeon, working my ass off, swinging an axe day and night?"
"Wasn't I too young?" Jack directed his question at the old man.
"He's got a point, you know," a man seated nearby chimed in, nudging Francis.
"So what if he's right?" Francis retorted sharply, delivering a swift slap to the back of Jack's head.
Jack massaged his throbbing scalp and was about to retort, but the stern tone of Francis silenced him immediately.
"Do you think being right is worth a shit?" Francis slammed his cup onto the desk, rising from his seat. " Just do your damn jobs and don't embarrass this old man."
With that, Francis cast a stern gaze at Jack and cautioned, "Especially you, Jack. Behave yourself around the hunters. Don't stir up trouble." He then turned and left the room.
"He and Thomas are always like this, acting as if everything is normal," Jack muttered under his breath.
"Because they know that anything else would only make matters worse," the man seated to Jack's left chimed in.
"By the way, where the hell is Thomas? It was his turn to close the pub's tab today," Jack added, changing the subject.