The loud banging on the door brought Zavry back to reality as he straightened up, his face almost in shock. Who knew just a single pack of tasteless noodles could make him lose his apartment?

The place had become scorching hot, and the smell of burning wood made matters even worse than they already were. Zavry coughs lightly.

At this point, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This wasn't what he had expected. Now, he was practically homeless. He walked quickly, making sure to look as traumatized as possible.

Just then, the door opened, and firefighters rushed in. He guessed someone must have smelled the fire and quickly called them. One of the men hurried over and spoke.

"You don't have to worry, boy. We're here, and we'll make sure nothing happens to you—but you’ll also need to answer some questions once you’re out. We need to know the main cause of the fire."

Zavry couldn't understand why the man decided to give him a whole speech instead of simply leading him out.

Another firefighter rushed over.

"Take him out… I think he's traumatized," the man said. The other nodded calmly and began leading Zavry away.

“Traumatized, my ass,” Zavry thought.

At this point, he didn't care what anyone said. He was just trying to figure out his life because he genuinely didn't know what to do anymore.

“Oh, how will I pay for all of this…?And all because of some useless noodles!”

“Now you're calling them useless? You were the one who ate them as if your life depended on it, and now you're calling them useless,” Rune reminded.

“No one asked you for a motivational speech,” Zavry deadpanned.

“How about you steal money?” Rune suggested.

Zavry halted. The man leading him up the basement stairs stopped, too, noticing how the boy was just standing there, staring into thin air like he was deep in thought. He couldn’t help but pity the boy. It seems like he really was traumatized. If he only knew.

“You have to be kidding me,” Zavry replied.

Rune continued.

“You're on a mission to kill people—villains or heroes, innocent or not—so compared to that, stealing's nothing. Honestly, if I were to compare, stealing is better. Or, how about you steal and pay it back when you get money?”

"I can see the only thing you have in you is stupidity and—"

"Hello? Boy, are you okay? Hello?" Zavry snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the firefighter's voice.

Talking with Rune almost gave him away, but Zavry quickly nodded at the man, then continued up the stairs. As they walked, Zavry noticed other firefighters rushing downward. Since the fire had started underground, extinguishing it wouldn't be easy, though it wasn't impossible.

They made it through the hallway and pushed the door open. Fresh air welcomed them, and the morning breeze blew through Zavry's hair. His eyes stared in slight surprise when he saw Leon.

The guy approached, buzz-cut hair dyed white, lean and tall, wearing a baggy pair of jeans and a loose shirt. The city buzzed around them; it was the modern day, after all.

"Thank goodness you're okay! I was already wondering how I'd come up with a funeral speech for you," he chuckled, punching Zavry lightly on the arm.

Zavry remained calm as Leon looked at him.

"You never change, man. What's with that face? Why are you always frowning, huh?" Leon asked, watching the chaos around them.

Zavry was trying to dodge this interaction. He didn't want to stay with Leon. Knowing his lifestyle, he simply didn't want to be around him at all.

"I won't even bother asking what caused the fire—you're usually weak and dumb, anyway," Leon said mockingly, but Zavry remained calm.

"By the way, bro, I called an ambulance just in case," Leon said, clearly knowing that would annoy Zavry. And just as expected, Zavry's face twisted in irritation. He turned, raised his hands, and signed sharply.

Leon was good with sign language, so he could understand.

"Leo, tell them to go back. As you can see, I can walk. Don't be stupid," Zavry signed. He knew that if the paramedics got involved, they would insist on taking his details and checking him over. Questions would be asked, reports would be filed, and before long, more attention would be drawn to him than he wanted. That was something he intended to avoid.

"You have nowhere to go. Take this as me doing you a favor. At least you'd be able to sleep in the hospital. Better than being a homeless beggar," Leon added.

Zavry frowned, and Leon's lips curled into a devilish grin.

"Fine, I'll cancel the ambulance—on one condition. You come stay with me. We could play that new game, 'Siren Lish.' Bro, that game cost a lot of pounds!" he added excitedly.

Zavry raised his hands and signed.

“Fine.”

“You've got pride for someone with nowhere to stay. Someone is inviting you to stay with them… You’re a beggar with options,” Rune muttered.

“I will put you to sle—”

“I apologize!” Rune quickly interrupted, clamping his metaphorical mouth shut. At this point, he didn't want to take any risks.

But Zavry had his reasons for not wanting to stay with Leon. Not only was the guy stinkingly rich, but he was also…

"Bro, the latest club just opened. It's quite cheap—just a hundred thousand pounds a night," Leon said.

Zavry's eyes turned dull with boredom.

“And here I am, struggling to pay just twenty dollars and two coins,” he said to himself. This was exactly why he didn't like Leon—he was fond of all those materialistic things, always saying,

“You only live once.” But to Zavry, clubs and women were things that made a man act foolish and desperate.

"So, bro, are you coming?" Leon asked, only for his eyes to widen when Zavry smiled and slowly raised his hands to sign,

“NO.”

Leon's face fell.

"Oh, must you always be boring? There'll be lots of ladies… Sometimes I wonder if you're trying to make yourself some kind of historical virgin or something," he muttered, annoyed, as he turned to walk toward one of the men.

“Fuck off,” Zavry said to himself.

It was then that he noticed a figure approaching—his landlord, heading straight toward him.

Now he was sure he wouldn't just be paying back twenty dollars anymore. He had destroyed someone's home. He’d have to pay much more than that.

His landlord walked towards him, and to Zavry’s surprise, the man walked right past him like he was trash. But at least trash gets acknowledged; when someone walks past trash, they either cover their nose or, at the very least, realize they just passed something foul.

But right now, Zavry was passed like air.

He turned and followed Mr. Bruce, his landlord. That was when he realized Mr. Bruce was talking to Leon.

“What did this guy do this time?” he wondered as he walked toward them. He heard the landlord's voice, bright with gratitude, thanking Leon.

"Thank you for paying for your friend—and for the extra tip as well," the landlord said, smiling widely, his brown teeth visible before he added, even though his tone did not sound genuine this time. “I hope your friend is okay.”

Leon waved his hand dismissively. "You don't have to worry about that. Also, my friend is fine, so no ambulance is needed. I'll send for a private doctor for him once we reach home. You take care of the rest. The money I gave you is surely more than enough."

The landlord nodded far too quickly, bowing deeply. He turned and walked away, still ignoring Zavry, passing him again like he was invisible.

Zavry did not care.

“If only he knew who he just passed… An ex-god-killer…” Rune tried to hype Zavry a bit, but his words trailed off as he didn’t want to test his luck more than he should.

Zavry walked to Leon.

“Why did you pay him?” he signed calmly.

"Bro, a simple 'thank you' would do. Seems you're not too familiar with the word gratitude," Leon said, smiling brightly.

Zavry remained silent and raised his hand, signing quickly. “Thanks.”

Leon's lips curled up slightly. Zavry, on the other hand, was glad Leon's current house wasn't too big. He lived in a medium-sized apartment, and most of the money his father sent him was wasted on clubs and women.

“Very unreasonable,” Zavry thought to himself, just as a sleek black car pulled up in front of them. Leon pulled a single dollar note from his pocket and handed it to Zavry, who took it reluctantly, trying to act like he didn't care. But deep down, that dollar meant more than he could admit.

"So ungrateful…" Leon muttered, then added, "Take a taxi to my place. I won't be back until midnight—I've got an appointment."

He didn't need to say more. They both knew what kind of 'appointment' he meant.

Leon got into a cab, and it zoomed off.

Zavry unfolded the note. A flicker of surprise crossed his face when he saw it was actually a hundred-dollar bill. He slipped it into his pocket. He could easily afford a cab now, but he decided to walk home instead. The fresh air would do him good, and it counted as exercise.

“Bro, just buy noodles,” Rune said, laughing. He still couldn't believe the same noodles that had once given him life had also played a small role in nearly destroying it. The noodles weren't to blame, of course, but if Zavry hadn't decided to cook them, none of it would have happened.

Zavry ignored him entirely, walking silently through the streets.

“Please just enter the taxi,” Rune urged.

But Zavry kept walking until he arrived at a restaurant and stepped inside. He sat down, and shortly after, a waitress approached him. She handed him a menu and bowed respectfully.

Zavry turned the menu over and noticed a section offering language assistance for customers with communication barriers. He paused for a moment before tapping the sign language option. Ordering his food would be easy enough by pointing at the menu, but there were a few things he wanted to ask, and that would be much harder without help.

Not long after, another lady arrived, smiling gently before signing, “Sir, what would you like to have today?"

Zavry noticed there were no prices listed, so he chose what he thought was cheap. He ordered fried chicken and rice, along with one glass of orange juice. That would be enough for today—today was one of those rare days when he bought food outside.

A slow smile appeared on his face.

The woman returned the smile as Zavry signed that he had no allergies but didn't want any extra sugar in his orange juice. With that, she left.

“Seriously, though, why'd you go to such an expensive restaurant? You could've gone home and eaten whatever Leon had. I'm pretty sure a guy that rich isn't starving,” Rune said with a snort.

“And why do you think I'm having this? To eat and get strength for a little exercise—like trekking,” Zavry replied.

Rune couldn't believe Zavry was trying to cover for himself and his pride.

The waitress returned, placed the food down, and left. Zavry began to eat.

“Bro, don’t forget you still have to pay at the end,” Rune added through their mind link.

Zavry paid no mind. It wasn't like he was going to run, and besides, he had the money.

Rune knew that the one thing Zavry lacked was being grateful and content. He had too much pride, and Rune guessed that being a god in his past life had given him such an ego that he would rather die silently in misery than ask his friend for money.

“Seems you enjoy watching me strive in poverty. At least let me feel the money a little before giving it away,” Zavry said.

Rune decided to be silent. He couldn't believe this man, but he stayed quiet, choosing not to push his luck further. That was better than going back to that nightmare, which was too unbearable.

Zavry ate. At that point, he forgot all etiquette, eating the chicken with his hands. Some people turned to look at him oddly, but he didn’t care. He ate like he had no worries in the world. He rarely saw this kind of food, so why use cutlery when his hands could do the magic? For some reason, he was glad the fire had happened; his clothes were slightly black from the ash that had fallen on him. At least it had covered the blood that had stained his shirt from his mission. Though right now, he looked pitiful—that was the only word that could truly describe him.

Time passed.

When he finished eating, he wiped his hands with a napkin. The waitress returned, bowed, and signed again,

"Your check, sir."

The waitress returned with the bill.

Zavry pulled out the hundred-dollar bill and handed it over. The woman accepted it and left briefly before returning with a receipt.

Zavry was already getting to his feet, assuming everything was settled.

“Sir,” the waiter said politely, stopping him, “this only covers part of the bill. The total for your meal comes to six hundred dollars, eight coins, and three cents.”

Zavry froze.

Rune’s laughter rang in his head.

“Looks like someone’s going to be washing dishes today,” Rune mocked.