Leander withdrew, hiding behind the pillar. Ethan was puzzled by Leander 's behavior. He recalled Sherry's last words, "Be careful of Leander ." Since escaping from Fortress Omega, Leander 's actions had been erratic and mysterious, making Ethan increasingly suspicious of his true identity.
Ethan decided to investigate and walked towards Leander . But as he approached, Leander hurriedly ran to the kitchen. Ethan quickened his pace and followed him into the kitchen, but Leander seemed to vanish into thin air, disappearing without a trace among the bartending area, the washing station, and the kitchen itself. Stopped by the staff, Ethan had to halt his pursuit.
"Sir, this is a restricted area. Please don't enter," one of the staff members said, her voice firm and unyielding. Reluctantly, Ethan gave up the chase and returned to his seat, frustration simmering in his chest.
Aria, still waiting for Ethan, looked at him as he came back alone. Seeing no sign of Leander , she displayed clear confusion and disappointment on her face, realizing Ethan's attempt had failed.
"Did Leander escape?" Aria asked, her voice a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Yes. When I reached the kitchen, he just disappeared, as if he evaporated into thin air," Ethan responded, bewildered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
"I don't get it either. Why would Leander avoid us?" Aria continued, her brow furrowing as she tried to make sense of the situation.
The bar's lighting became even more enchanting, with a seductive scent of alcohol permeating the air. On the stage, a black singer wearing sunglasses took the stage, holding a guitar and sitting on a high stool. His voice was magnetic and melodic, singing a Latin song that was both tender and profoundly mysterious at times. The notes lingered in the air, wrapping around the patrons like a comforting embrace, contrasting sharply with the tension Ethan and Aria felt.
Ethan and Aria sat at their table, listening to the song and observing their surroundings. The faces of the bar's patrons were cold, their expressions guarded. Ethan found no topic to start a conversation with anyone. Like the waiter before, they seemed unwilling to divulge any information, their eyes flitting away whenever they noticed Ethan's gaze. Aria considered removing her headscarf to use her actress identity to try their luck, but Ethan stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm.
"Aria, don't do that. It will only bring us greater danger. Wilson's people will find us," Ethan cautioned her in time, his voice low but urgent.
They sat there for three hours, realizing today was going to be a fruitless day. They called the waiter, settled the bill, and left the bar. The night wind had become cooler, and the leaves rustled in the breeze, whispering secrets of the night. A homeless man lay on a tattered mat by the roadside, his bare feet exposed. As a cold wind blew, he curled up, seeking warmth in his threadbare clothes. Aria looked at the homeless man and shivered, feeling a surge of sympathy.
"Ethan, do we have any cash left? I want to help him," Aria said, her kind eyes on the homeless man, her voice tinged with compassion.
"We have $800 left. Let's give it all to him," Ethan said, handing the money to Aria. Aria walked forward slowly, her steps soft on the pavement, and crouched down, gently waking the man up, intending to give him the money.
"Hello, please wake up. Here's $800. It's all we have. Find a warm place," Aria said with concern, her voice soothing like a balm.
"I don't take money touched by women, and please get off my turf," the homeless man said dismissively, looking at Aria with contempt, his eyes hard and unyielding.
This scene made Ethan angry. Helping someone only to receive such coldness felt like a betrayal of their kindness. He stepped forward, his posture tense with indignation.
"How can you say that? We gave you all the money we had left. We're also in need. Ingrate," Ethan said, feeling their goodwill was unappreciated, his voice edged with frustration.
The homeless man got up, looking at Ethan and Aria. Ethan's anger hadn't subsided. Being outdoors for so long, his body felt colder, and Aria began to shiver, her teeth chattering lightly. The homeless man stood up, dusting himself off, his movements slow and deliberate.
"Come with me," he said, leading Ethan and Aria to his small shack, his voice now tinged with a hint of grudging respect.
The small house wasn't far from the bar. Close to the bar, he could beg and find leftover food from customers. Sometimes, generous patrons would give enough money for a week's living, but on unlucky days, going hungry for two or three days was common. The homeless man opened the iron door, and a strong stench hit them, making their eyes water. The place was filled with cans and bottles, stacked haphazardly in every corner. The room was small, with just a bed, a sofa, and no bathroom. The bathroom was outside, a public one shared by many. Thankfully, there was a stove inside. The homeless man added some firewood to it, the flames flickering to life and casting a warm glow around the cramped space. Ethan and Aria sat on the sofa, trying to make themselves comfortable amidst the clutter.
"So, what do you want here?" the homeless man asked, eating from an opened can of sardines, the fishy smell mingling with the musty scent of the room.
"We're looking for an experienced racing coach to train me," Ethan said, covering his nose to ward off the pungent odors, his voice slightly muffled.
"Racing. Everyone comes here for racing. This place is full of blood and competition. How many make it to the top and survive? Give it up, kid," the homeless man said, his tone both weary and cynical, as if he had seen too many come and go.
"I must race. I have a match with Joseph in a month. I have to win to survive," Ethan answered firmly, his eyes blazing with determination.
Hearing Joseph's name, the homeless man stopped eating the sardines. It seemed to remind him of something. He put away his frivolous expression and began to think calmly, his eyes narrowing as he considered Ethan's words.
"To survive, what's your name?" the homeless man asked, his voice now steady and serious.
"My name is Ethan," he replied, meeting the man's gaze without flinching.
"I'm Elton. I can teach you to race, consider it a thank you for the $800," the homeless man said...