A large pipe on the wall was screeching as it strained under high pressure. A small leak of water dripped onto a metal hanger that swung from the ceiling, hitting a wooden crate in a steady rhythm.
'What a shame…'
He felt a pang of disappointment and boredom as he realized the truth. He shut the door and dashed to the kitchen to get his lunch. He grabbed a salad bowl and exited the restaurant without a word to anyone.
Seconds after he left, the pipe exploded, destroying the whole restaurant and spraying water everywhere. The customers, the waiters, and the owner all perished in the blast. The only survivor was Moriarty.
Moriarty watched the scene from a safe distance, munching on his vegetable salad that he had gotten for free. He didn't bother to warn anyone about the impending explosion, knowing that no one would believe him with such short notice. And he also knew that if he did, he would be suspected of being the culprit. He thought, 'It's the owner's fault for not maintaining the place.'
He didn't care about the fate of the restaurant or the people there. But that didn't mean he wouldn't help, he just saw no point in it. He preferred to avoid trouble and danger and mind his own business.
He had lost his job again, but he didn't let that bother him. He continued to enjoy his meal, not worrying about the future. His only plan at that moment was to eat and savor every bite. He didn't care about finding another job or surviving the next day. He only cared about filling his stomach and pleasing his palate.
He hated hunger more than anything, as he had experienced starvation once that changed his outlook on life. He recalled the time when he was a child, living on the streets, begging for food and stealing when he could. He recalled the agony and the despair that made him do anything for a morsel. He recalled how he lost his innocence and his humanity in the process. He swore to never return to that state again.
He glanced at the left part of the white board, seeing if there was anything that required his attention. He saw that it was some kind of news board and decided to check it out later.
He spotted some headlines and pictures that piqued his interest, such as "Possibility Of War", "Fortifying The Wall", "God's Daily", and "Magic Competition Upcoming". He wondered if any of them had anything to do with his current situation. He decided to read them more closely later, after he had his lunch.
The serving counter was far away, as it was on the opposite side of the white board. He had to walk across the whole room, passing by several tables and chairs, where other people were eating or talking. He avoided eye contact with anyone, as he did not want to attract attention to himself. He hoped that no one would recognize him or question him.
Moriarty smiled eagerly as he walked by the elegant tables, looking forward to a good meal. He remembered the steak he had that morning, and the dessert he had saved in his chest along with the book. He thought he might eat it later, when he felt like snacking on something.
He saw some people eating some kind of meat that had been grilled, with some vegetables in between. He felt his mouth water as he thought of the delicious lunch that awaited him. 'So that is today's menu… I'm almost there… wait for me… I'm coming…' He thought impatiently, as he approached the counter.
But he halted his steps when he spotted a familiar face that he never expected to see in this place. Not among these soldiers, at least. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief, as he recognized the person who was sitting at a table near the counter, wearing the same uniform as him.
'How did they get out? And how did they get a soldier's uniform?' Moriarty recognized the spy prisoners, the red-haired man and maybe his companion with an X scar on his back.
He wondered how they had escaped from their prison cell, and how they had acquired a soldier's uniform. He wondered what they were doing here, eating brazenly, among these soldiers. He wondered if they knew that he was here too, and if they were after him.
He remembered them well, as they had made quite an entrance in the prison, sliding their face on the floor. He remembered how they were dragged by the guards and thrown into the cell, just a few minutes after him. Even though the light was dim there, he had seen their faces clearly enough.
'Definitely, it's them. I may be not sure about his partner, but his red hair was quite flashy…'
He was certain that it was them. The red-haired man stood out among the black and yellow-haired people of the Kisesh Kingdom. He could not forget his face, even though he was not sure about his partner. He remembered his piercing eyes, his narrow nose, his thin lips, and his stubble.
'Did they fake their death? Was it even possible? They must be very skilled spies, able to adapt and learn.' He admired their ability to escape from a seemingly hopeless situation. He had no clue how they did it, or when they did it. He wondered if they had any help or connections outside the prison, or if they were on their own.
He thought that he would have been tortured and killed if he had not found a way out of the lady's room. 'Luckily, I'm also quite flexible, though not very knowledgeable, I admit.' He thought about how he used his cleverness to get away. He felt proud of himself for making such a bold move.
As they finished their meal, Blend and Derb were ready to get up from their seats. Blend felt like taking a nap, just like Blake had done. They were not ranking officers, so they had to sleep in the barracks with the other soldiers, which was a bit far from the main building. But Blend thought that it was a good way to digest the food they had eaten. However, as they were about to leave, Blend caught Moriarty's eye. He saw a strange look on his face.