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Red Herring

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Amidst a world covered in nuclear dust and toxic waste, the Cataclysm swept everything away, leaving behind only the iron tower built by a dictator.
The endless sound of gears filling its interior purified the land and saved humanity.

Thus, on a rainy day in the newly rebuilt central hub, where civilization had gathered around the tower, a bartender in East Downtown, Cyril, finds himself entangled in the murder of ‘Alice’.

Engaged in a subtle tug-of-war with Rinat, a man determined to uncover his true identity, he begins a dangerous game of deception and survival…!

“Your eyes. When you’re tense, the green in your irises spreads outward—like the aurora in a winter sky.”
“…….”
“They’re too beautiful to just let them rot away. What should we do about that?”

So, let me enjoy them a little. …Just before that happens.

***

Cyril instinctively leaned back, a sharp premonition running down his spine. The next moment, he let out a quiet breath. The young man’s right hand hovered over the exact spot Cyril had been standing just moments ago—just near his shoulder and neck.

“Ah, I missed.”

Unclenching the fingers that had reached for the ribbon’s end, the young man clicked his tongue in playful disappointment.

“You’re quicker than I expected. I should’ve grabbed your hands first instead of underestimating you.”

If anything, Cyril should have been the one to say that. The young man moved as soundlessly as a cat.

“I was curious about what you’re hiding beneath that ribbon… that’s all.”

“This ribbon is—”

“Ah, I heard already. Over in that corner.”

The young man raised both hands, as if saying, ‘You don’t need to explain.’

“A memento from your mother, wasn’t it? Must’ve been quite the wealthy woman, for you to walk around draped in silk embroidered with gold dust instead of cheap nylon satin.”

Cyril inwardly clicked his tongue but smiled instead.

“It was my father who bought it for me. He was an extraordinarily wealthy man. so…”

Now it was the young man’s turn to smile. His ash-gray eyes curved in amusement.

“Of course. That must be the case. If that ribbon truly is a memento, as you say.”

“…….”