Chapter 1.3
The bartender’s eyes widened briefly before he let out a small “Ah,” realizing what A meant. His grayish-blue eyes narrowed slightly.
“You heard all that, huh? Well… I did. About a year ago. No matter how much I searched, I could never find her. And yet, somehow, she found me. She came here, gaunt and frail. We spent about half a year together after that. Those were happy days.”
“Half a year?”
“Her illness had gone too far to be treated any further. By the time I was captured and taken back to Central, both her physical and mental strength had deteriorated beyond recovery.”
The bartender smiled wryly as he spoke.
“That’s… heartbreaking.”
A felt guilty for making him recall painful memories. It also reminded them that, from the beginning, he had referred to his golden ribbon as a memento. As A fell silent, the bartender raised both hands, shaking his head lightly.
“It’s fine. She passed away with a smile on her face. Because I showed her something before she died.”
“Showed her… what?”
The bartender leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.
“My father’s severed penis.”
“…!”
Even A—who rarely reacted to anything—flinched at that. His whisper settled into their ears like an eerie lull.
“The second time I escaped… I bit down as hard as I could, tore it off, and ran with it in my mouth.”
The bartender smiled, his voice chillingly calm.
“You should’ve seen my father’s face. I’d love to show it to you. Have you ever wondered what an owner looks like after getting bitten by a dog they never imagined would turn on them? But honestly, he had it coming. What kind of fool forces his child—one who clearly despises him—to suck his dick?”
“……”
Straightening his posture, the bartender looked directly at A and asked,
“Isn’t that right?”
A only blinked in response. The bartender, who had initially seemed refined and elegant, now looked completely different. Seeing the shift in A’s expression, he smiled. It was still a gentle smile, yet there was something unsettling about it.
“My mother wept with gratitude when she heard. She chewed it thoroughly before she passed away. I had never seen her so happy before. Well… she was happy when we reunited, too, but…”
With that, the bartender walked away without hesitation.
A stared blankly at his retreating figure. The image of that delicate-looking young man biting off his father’s genitals played in their mind, leaving them speechless. And then, after some time had passed, A imagined the bartender’s mother’s blissful face as she lay dying, chewing on the withered, dried flesh.
A cold sweat trickled down A’s back.
Then, a small chuckle broke the silence. It came from the next table. A, still stunned, turned their head.
The woman was fiddling with the leather straps and metal ornaments wrapped around her sleeve as she spoke nonchalantly.
“It’s a joke.”
“Pardon?”
“You got fooled.”
Crossing her legs, she leaned back. Through the parting folds of her skirt, A caught a glimpse of her legs encased in sheer black mesh stockings. Her heeled leather boots were adorned with elaborate rose and sun motifs.
She reached toward her waist and pulled out a flat, compact case. It was a cigarette case—deep crimson with black lace fabric attached to it. When she unfastened the brass clasp at the corner, a row of neatly arranged red cigarettes came into view.
A had seen them before—a brand that marketed as ‘roses that leave their scent on your body’. A recalled the massive airship that had flown across the sky, endlessly scattering rose petals as it blared its message, ‘We are the Good Company, Agapia! Remember us! Agapia’s cigarettes are completely harmless to the body! Do not be alarmed if roses bloom from your skin—Agapia is the miracle company that fulfills love and dreams!’
Even in the free city, A had thought it was too much. That a notorious drug company could openly advertise in the heart of the city seemed absurd. Maybe the rumors about Music Box City were true after all. A city of crime, a city of gambling, a city of drugs, a city of indulgence, a city of disease…
The cigarette, redder than the woman’s lips, had the cunning allure of a serpent.
“Don’t take that guy’s words too seriously. He’s a liar. And I don’t only mean his words. Well, you’re new here, aren’t you? In this downtown district, don’t trust anyone. This place is full of con artists, gamblers, junkies, and fanatics. A parade of lunatics dressed like respectable people.”
She lifted a cigarette and pointed it toward the bartender.
“Him, too, of course.”
The bartender had returned behind the counter, shaking a silver cocktail shaker. He was preparing the Apple Martini the woman had ordered.
“Do you know what he told me once? That when his mother came looking for him, he was so happy that, despite his miserable pay, he rang the Golden Bell.”
A frowned.
“Golden Bell?”
“It happened to be Red Day—do you know it?”
“Yes. Before the Cataclysm, it was called Christmas, wasn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know about that name. Anyway, it was a festival day, and the bar was unusually packed. So, he ended up drowning in debt. Said he got caught by the mafia and had to sell his body to pay it off. I was so shocked, I asked, ‘Really?!’ And you know what? The person next to me tapped my arm, just like I did to you, and said—”
She grinned.
“It’s a joke.”
The month of Red Day was still several months away. A guessed she had been coming to this bar for about a year.
“And his mother? Please. That guy’s only family is an old cat. A female tabby named ‘Una’. She wears a silk hat with black velvet ribbons and goggles. The moment you see her, you’ll know. As for the Golden Bell… well, apparently, he rang it because Una licked her own ankle for the first time in three months.”
She scoffed.
“Imagine getting into debt for something that stupid.”
After finishing her story, she placed the cigarette between her lips.
As if he had a sixth sense, the bartender called out without even looking up.
“Una!”
Then, in a firm voice,
“This is a non-smoking area.”
The woman gave a careless shrug and dropped the unlit cigarette into her empty glass. Then, flashing A a playful smile, she said,
“See? The whole city’s full of liars.”
Seeing A’s bewildered expression, she leaned in and whispered,
“As an apology, I’ll tell you a secret. The cat’s name is actually Rune. A cute little tuxedo cat. But don’t tell anyone I told you.”
A furrowed their brows. After hearing so many bizarre stories in quick succession, their head was spinning.
Still, they had learned a little more about Kyrie’s bartender. Their first impression of him hadn’t been too bad. It felt like they had come to the right place. That was a relief.
But for now, the bar was still too crowded to move freely. Not wanting to draw attention, A decided to sip their Black Russian and wait for the other customers to leave.
