Between the lush mountains and rocky forests, the wind from the West Coast swept across the rail tracks. The stones on the coastline had been worn to a rough texture by the constant battering from the sea, leaving deep holes. The harmony of the two brought echoes of ancient and desolate loneliness.
A train emerged from a tunnel, winding like a stream through the point where the coast met the mountains. The sea breeze from the side slipped in through the window gap, causing the window slats to bang against the frame, making light crackling sounds.
A hand was placed on the window-latch lever, which was pushed forward with force. "Click," the window was locked, the somewhat annoying clicking sound finally disappeared. The hand was then withdrawn, the newspaper was lowered, and Shiller, looking over his glasses at Lucifer sat across the cabin compartment, said:
"Your travel plans are truly astonishingly classic. I never thought that a creature capable of flying would, when traveling to another place, choose a train as their first choice of transportation."
Lucifer was using a knife and fork to divide the French pastries on his plate. He ate breakfast attentively and said, "That's the true meaning of travel. People could easily use the quickest means to get to a place, but instead, they choose to leisurely visit it. If you weren't so bothered by it, we could have walked there."
"Spare me." Shiller rolled his eyes slightly and lamented. Lucifer clicked his tongue and said: "The luxury suite of the travel train can hardly represent the charm of traveling on the West Coast. I say, we should have had an impromptu road trip, hitching a ride along the way. That's also an essential part of the journey."
Shiller gently closed the newspaper, looked into Lucifer's eyes and said, "Then, when a robber pulls out a gun, you'd suddenly 'Whoosh' spread your wings and scare them to the point they piss their pants... That's what you're aiming for."
"I hate psychologists." Lucifer started cutting up the food on his plate again.
Shiller lightly rang the bell attached to the door. After a while, a waiter in a black vest came over, opened the door and asked, "Sir, what can I do for you?"
"Any recommendations for breakfast?"
"Oh, sir, you've certainly asked the right person. This train offers numerous seafood dishes, including lobster and king crab."
"However, I do not believe those are suitable for breakfast. If you like seafood, you must have a piping hot bowl of cream clam soup, accompanied by smoked salmon with mashed potatoes, and if you want some vegetables, we have Seattle's special pickled cucumber and sweet chili peppers."
"Thank you for your recommendation; I'll have that."
"Not at all, sir, coffee or wine? The coffee on this train is also famous; we sell more than twenty thousand cups of traditional Italian coffee each year."
"I'll have a cup of Italian coffee then, thank you."
After the waiter left, Lucifer put the last piece of pastry in his mouth. While Shiller was looking at the ungenerous meal on his plate, he still couldn't hold back a smile and said, "What surprises me even more is that an angel would be allergic to seafood… Were you smacked by a fish in Heaven? I can't think of any other explanation."
"How could I be that stupid," Lucifer immediately refuted. "When I was living in the Garden of Eden, I was great at fishing. Getting hit by a fish, that kind of thing, only the foolish Michael would do."
"Then why don't you eat seafood?"
"Please, I've lived in Los Angeles for so long, I'm practically tired of seafood at this point. Only you East Coasters would come here and only know to eat things like lobsters and king crabs," Lucifer said discontentedly.
"So, your way of getting rid of this dietary habit is to move from one city on the West Coast to another, namely, another city with thriving fishery - Seashore City?"
"I really don't know when my Pope will do his homework." Lucifer put down his knife and fork, picked up the newspaper Shiller had placed next to him, and read while saying, "The Earthly Divine Country of angels has its boundaries. The East Coast is Gabriel's territory, I hate that stupid bird that sheds feathers everywhere. I don't want to linger in that place."
"Is it that you don't want to venture into other angels' territories, or are you just embarrassed because they beat you in arguments, only you would know." Shiller leaned back slightly to let the waiter place the soup on the table.
"When did I ever lose an argument to them?!" Lucifer immediately raised his voice and asked.
"Last night, don't think I didn't hear you. As I was packing, you were arguing on the phone in the next room about who won the minor offensive in Holy Spring during the War of the Fallen that happened thousands of years ago. You were completely steamrolled by Michael. You couldn't even get a word in."
"Shiller!" Lucifer angrily slapped the table and said, "Watch your language. You are my Pope; whose side are you on?"
"I'm on God's side," Shiller said, taking a sip of the soup.
Lucifer snorted and said, "If I hadn't fallen, would it be Michael's turn to be the Archangel? Gabriel used to be my little sidekick, and now, he is following behind Michael's ass…"
"When I prayed to God yesterday, He said, 'You guys have debated over the War of the Fallen for thousands of years. You guys might not find it tiresome, but He does.'", Shiller stated.