Upon hearing the old man's offer, a few thoughts came to Mark's mind.
The first was:
'Is this geezer insane? He's known me for less than a minute, and is letting me stay for a night at his house?'
The second:
'Wow, this is something that would happen in a romance novel!'
And lastly,
'I feel like I've been caught up in a scheme.'
He looked at the father and daughter duo. Their welcoming smiles radiated hospitality.
Contrary to the chilling night, the door to the house exuded a comforting warmth.
He bowed once more.
"Thanks! I'll be in your care!"
There really was no reason to refuse. Though this could simply be a ploy, the family seems too well off to want anything from a bloke like him, so at worst he would get beaten up. If he were to leave and try to return home, he would risk being looted and killed by some desperate bastards.
After all, his house was essentially in the slums.
"This way."
The old man nodded and turned around, gesturing for Mark to follow.
He trailed behind the muscular figure, doubts still in his mind. As they walked through the dark corridor, Mark finally voiced his concerns.
He looked up at the prominent father.
"How could you trust someone you barely know?"
In turn, the man's crimson eyes focused on Mark. They seemed to be tinted with doubt despite the trust he had already given to the young man.
"I believe in my daughter's ability to tell apart the good from the bad. After all, rather than take advantage of her, you helped bring her back."
"Ah..."
'That's... a terrible way of assessing others'
Mark hid the disdain he felt, not letting a semblance of it leak from his expression.
Perhaps he had grown to be an individualist, or had simply lost his faith in the goodness of others, but the idea of being naïve enough to let others control his judgment disgusted him.
No, it was utterly repulsive.
The nameless brunette put her hands on her hips and harrumphed. The sight was slightly amusing, but also slightly comforting.
It was easy to trust someone who instilled a sense of security and confidence. Mark does the same at the bar, making patrons feel welcomed and willing to return.
At her side, he was more at ease than anywhere else. He trusted her.
'...'
Maybe a bit too much.
He paled. An unsettling feeling crawled from his mind, sending a chill through his body.
They stopped in front of a door.
"This is the guest room, you can stay here for the night."
Mark pallidly responded.
"Thank you."
He opened the door, entered the room, and immediately after, closed it with a swift, careful motion. After waiting a few seconds, he exhaled.
Only then did he lose his composure.
'I'm an idiot!'
With trembling steps, he walked over to the neatly made bed, where he sat down with a hung head.
The fresh memory of having spilled everything to the seemingly reliable woman was replaying in his head. He would have blushed in shame if he wasn't so stricken.
Why?
Because another scene was also vividly stuck in his skull. A reminder to secrecy.
In a familiar bar that he had just started to work at, Mark served a handful of people as he listened to the drunken chatter of two well-off men. They were both regulars at his place.
After having been coerced to down enough bottles to get drunk, one of them said it. And Mark's attention was immediately drawn.
"You know, I'm actually a Blessed."
Maybe the man was telling the truth, or it was a prideful lie. Mark wouldn't have known, he was too inexperienced at reading others.
But what caught his attention was how a rough man sitting not too far from them had a subtle, yet abrupt change in demeanor as he glanced in their direction.
Shortly after, as the two friends were about to leave, the rough-looking man got up right after, trailing them with determined steps.
The following nights, Mark thought about what he had just seen and eventually wrote it off as paranoia.
Yet he never saw the alleged "Blessed" man again. Nor his friend. But the person who did come back was the rough man who tailed the two.
Mark took a closer look at him while starting a conversation. Thanks to his lack of experience, he found it hard to guide the flow of a discussion, so he wasn't able to learn anything but the man's name: Anton.
One thing he noticed though, was that under the thick coat, he wore clothing with the colors of the nation, the collared garment was familiar after having seen it in countless propaganda posters.
The rough man was from the army, and now, the two men probably were at the frontlines, if not dead.
He saw the two men, their smiling, unsuspecting faces. And then the duty-bound man, following them with the tact of a hunter.
All of it flashed in Mark's eyes as he looked down at his trembling hands.
Survival was his only goal, all he had to do was keep his mouth shut and earn some money. Nothing more was possible with the way things are. The rotting world denies him opportunity.
He clenched his fist.
'That woman is going to be the end of me.'
And with that Mark lay on the bed. There wasn't anything else he could do but try and reduce his stress with some well-deserved rest.
Well, at least he tried to.
Whether it was paranoia, embarrassment, or some other demon. No matter how long he shut his eyes, sleep never came. So he was forced to wait out the night, ruminating on his recent decisions.
'Ahh, how enrapturing'
Mark watched the sky gradually turn from black to blue as a dazzling yellow light arose from the ever-distant mountains. The wait wasn't long considering that he had come to the house much past midnight.
As a guest, he would at least show some respect by not waking the others while trying to leave. That left him with nothing to do but enjoy the moment to the fullest. As for that brown-haired minx, he'd have to hope she doesn't spill anything, and try to get to know her better.
For the moment, he needs to wait before taking any drastic action.
Someone knocked on the door, taking Mark's attention from the rising sun. A sonorous voice was muffled by the wooden barrier, but he recognized it nonetheless.
"Hey~ are you awake?"
"Yeah... shouldn't you be asleep? It has barely been a few hours since we came here."
Mark really didn't feel like he was ready to talk to the vixen again. His damned heart took the reigns of his mouth whenever he was with her- or maybe it was his testosterone.
The thought made him shudder. But his attention was drawn once more.
"In that case, you should also be resting. You were the one working last night."
His eye twitched.
"Then why ask!?"
There was a momentary pause as the voice behind the door seemed to have vanished.
How relaxing the few seconds of silence were.
"Anyway, I'm going to make some food if you want to come join me."
Mark's eyes lit up.
'Free food!'
If there was one thing he couldn't resist in the world, it was the things he got without cost. Especially when it came to food. Well... at least when it isn't one of Royce's terrible experiments. At that point he wasn't paying with money, but his sanity as he suffered.
Either way, free food is all that matters in the end! The only goodness in the world! Praise be to charity!
Mark smiled.
He looked around the room. The morning light permeated the window, displaying his accommodation in all of its glory.
The giant bed, the tall mirror, a drawer, a closet, a lamp. The damned thing was filled. Neatly at that!
After straightening his brown hair in the mirror and taking one last look at the rising sun, he turned around and eagerly opened the door.
'This is going to be a great day!'