Rumble!
Rumble!
Everyone believed that the volcanic energy had already erupted and was gradually subsiding. The volcanic ash hung in the air, and the magma that hadn't fully cooled was spreading freely.
The remaining residual heat still stirred up a noisy ambiance around. However, what no one expected was that the air wasn't filled with just residual warmth; instead, a new surge of magma was brewing, and the orange-red lava had begun to bubble.
As a result, bewildered and curious gazes were once again drawn to the scene. What was happening?
People bustling along the street could vaguely feel the heated atmosphere and the sounds of the air boiling and bubbling. Inadvertently, their eyes shifted towards the bar with a hint of surprise.
"Is there still so much energy left?"
Duncan Turner didn't conceal his surprise. Standing there at five in the morning, he felt top-heavy, almost unable to keep his balance.
He was so tired that he seemed like he might fall over with a single gust of wind, and drowsiness was creeping in. His brain was sending a persistent "sleep, sleep, sleep" alarm in bright red, gradually lulling him into a trance.
His eyelids were getting heavy, and he felt unsteady on his feet.
In fact, by two in the morning, Duncan could barely hold on. He had partied for most of the night, depleting his energy and stamina.
Yet, he persisted until three, stumbling out of the Old Blacksmith Bar with heavy steps. He rushed to the nearby coffee shop, where he downed a Red Bull and poured two cups of black coffee in an attempt to regain some alertness.
But only a little.
Originally, Duncan had planned to rest for just twenty minutes, but he seemed to be glued to his chair, feeling as though his cheeks might make contact with the table at any moment.
Worried that he might slip into a deep sleep if he closed his eyes and not wake up, Duncan forced himself to stay awake and bid farewell to the party. He was preparing to head home to rest.
Yet, there was a strong reluctance in his heart.
After graduating, working, getting married, and having children, Duncan's life had settled into a monotonous routine.
The repetitive days were stifling him bit by bit—not due to his wife or children, not due to work or his boss, but because he couldn't find the vitality and vigor.
Like the proverbial frog slowly boiling in a pot of water, he hadn't noticed the gradual temperature change. His life was gradually heading towards stagnation and insignificance.
That day, in the "Noon" bar, Duncan had unexpectedly encountered something that sparked a little inspiration and rekindled his passion for life.
In his early thirties, with many years left before retirement, he still had time to make his life shine and add some color to it. He decided to give it a try.
So, he had planned to attend the full moon party and actively participate in the entire event, step by step.
Duncan had mentioned his plans to his wife but had kept his intention to stay up all night a secret. He knew exactly what she would say:
"You're no longer a teenager; you need to grow up." His wife would definitely not understand or support such an idea.
He simply wanted to try and see if he could break free from the stagnation he felt deep inside.
But now, it didn't matter anymore. He had made the difficult choice to give up.
The party was still fun and exhilarating, but partying at thirty was not the same as partying at eighteen. Not only had his body protested, but his mentality and emotions had also undergone changes. He couldn't enjoy parties as he once did in his youth.
By the third hour of the party, he had considered going home. By the sixth hour, his eardrums were starting to hurt.
He remembered his college days, enjoying parties with friends, laughing loudly at the office workers, and vowing that he would never be like that even at the age of thirty, forty, or fifty.
He believed that they could party until dawn without fear of back pain or muscle stiffness. A bottle of beer and a can of Red Bull seemed to make them perpetual motion machines.
Regardless of how tired they were, a good night's sleep would fully rejuvenate them, allowing them to attend classes, complete assignments, go on dates, and continue with their parties with boundless energy.
And now?
Duncan began to question his decision to attend the full moon party. Had he pushed himself too hard?
No matter what, his wife was right after all. He really couldn't make it to the end. His knees and muscles had already begun to weaken, and if he didn't head back, he suspected he might just collapse in the middle of the street.
Perhaps he should give up those unrealistic fantasies. Maybe he should embrace a more honest and ordinary life. Perhaps he should learn to appreciate the calm and the ordinary as his future.
Even so, Duncan couldn't help but feel a lingering reluctance. Deep inside, a force kept pulling and struggling, urging him to make a detour and pass by the Old Blacksmith Bar once more.
He knew that seeing it again wouldn't change anything. He wouldn't see anything different standing outside.
In the end, all he might see was a familiar street corner, nothing more, nothing less. Nevertheless, he couldn't resist the urge to make a detour and approach.
At five in the morning, the streets were still bustling, and the chatter of the densely packed crowd showed no sign of diminishing.
It was like a gathering of night owls, with other nocturnal creatures joining in. Lively conversations and dialogues echoed under the soft, creamy yellow street lamps.
Even so, one could sense the tiredness and loneliness gradually settling in the air. The fervor and intensity of those drinking, talking, and laughing had visibly decreased.
The crowd remained energetic, but the atmosphere was no longer boiling. Faintly, the approach of dawn could be felt. Amidst the bustling streets, a moment of tranquility quietly spread.
At that moment, Duncan noticed a surge of heat emanating from the Old Blacksmith Bar. Ripples were slowly spreading.