"What's this, Uncle Meng, would you like some liquor? I can bring you some another day?"
Brian had never been this attentive even to his own father.
Drinking, whoring… he just stopped short of arranging gambling for this 67-year-old man.
But he wasn't trying to poison the old man to death; he had already smelled the cheap cigarettes and the scent of a prostitute's perfume on Uncle Meng, typical of a Mutant whose body was active. They don't hesitate to indulge in drugs or shy away from such things.
Brian was simply noticing that Uncle Meng's life seemed a bit strained, and he wanted to establish a good relationship.
Uncle Meng decisively shook his head, "Forget the liquor. You should drink less too. Drinking harms the body and brain. If you face danger, you won't be able to react in time; you might not even be able to run."
Listening to the old man's caring words,
Brian felt a bit ashamed.
