A Wish to Grab Happiness

- Rugis, how about you, have you ever eaten a venison?

That day, Bruder was definitely brushing a long needle of his gain, whining about that. In a mild tone at what time, then, I remember that rugged eyelid staring straight at the needle.

A needle is not the kind of small thing to use for sewing.

It is about the size of a large man's palm, and if it is stabbed well, the flesh will be decided, and if it is in a steep place, it will remain desperate. Undisputed, it was Bruder's work tool as a mercenary.

"There's no way there is. It's venison, isn't it the food of the higher-class guys? I'm tall enough to mouth chicken once in a while."

That said, for me at the time, even chicken was a luxury item. So the words, I'm sure, were the greatest thing I could possibly do. What a pity story.

Venison. That is something spoken of among the higher classes, especially by beings called aristocracy. The aristocracy takes full advantage of its privileges and keeps its own deer for hunting in its territory. It seems that if you feel like it, it is the aristocratic preference that shoots you all the time to play and taste its fine meat to the full.

Bastards like us, past and present, deer meat is not even allowed to wear foolish skins and horn-based products. A deer was a species, a symbol of identity, a being itself that represented its own status. I didn't know how many gold coins would be exchanged for clothes made from deer fur.

That's it, Bruder's guy,

- Then it's settled. Make sure you eat it with this mouth, the one called venison. Rumor has it my tongue will melt. I want to try it.

As soon as I heard, I could see the cold ice crawling down my spine.

That's when I accidentally moved my eyes to make sure there were no people around me. There can't be anybody.

At the time, I rented a room in Colored Street instead of a lodging and was based there. Everyone lives in a world of comfortable dreams during the day, and I don't want the one who returns to such an abominable reality of poverty.

But I want you to know how I feel.

To eat venison or something, even if the nobleman just asked me to say one word. A gentle whip must come in rain and fly.

Because it was so easy, I remember peeling my eyes off and looking at Blooder like that.

"You're still dreaming about your job. If you want to say something to sleep, you should go to sleep. If you're in a dream, you don't have to say anything."

- Ka, haha. It's fine. Do I look like the kind of basin darkness where I fail and get stuck at the bottom of a cliff?

Bruder's, this strange optimism could have been a source of concern for me. How can you be confident in yourself that you are also strong? For me, far from confidence, self-esteem, etc., Bruder's personality was inexplicable in itself.

Envious in one sense and depressing in another.

"I can see, it's just stranger than I can't see. That's creepy, how can you be so optimistic?"

With my lips pointy, I circled my eyes and said so. The word was strangely memorable. After that, not a word of Bruder is clear.

Conversely, other words are vague, and maybe the details were different, but that would be well respected.

Bruder, like me, rounded his eyes, stroked the lid of his hat with his fingers, and said.

- Naturally. Naturally. There's me, there's you, Rugis. You can't win. Do you have a fight?

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

A line of silver poked through the hollow in the back street.

Long needle, it is in the night darkness, distracted by shadows and choosing meat. The most efficient way to use it is to hide even a flash of brilliance and wear your neck without letting your opponent recognize what you're getting.

They followed the method this time too, naturally, and the needle was thrown towards my steeple. My eyes, instantly.

That must be an instant. Death on the spot if you misjudge. Reapers hang those white fingers on my jaw.

And yet. My brain was embracing that reality with strange margins and a sense of reality. There were several reasons for this.

First of all, darkness is not my enemy. I don't remember anyone losing out on foresight of its contents without any precipitation. So, like a needle like that, no, I'd rather not miss anything bigger than a needle.

As another ingredient, I am familiar with the needle's orbit.

Gently turn yourself around, flip your flesh, and pull the treasure sword out of your waist without killing momentum. It's a big name for hero killing, etc., but at this time it would be nice if you would slap me on the needle and break it.

The brilliance of purple electricity crawls between the shadows of the back streets. Techniques weren't anything, just rambling, the sound of tearing the sky open to a blow swinging with momentum.

- Gi, n!

A long needle, pulling a single line in the air, was shot down and made a noise on the spot and lay down on the ground. A needle that lost momentum and lost power was like saying it couldn't get stuck.

Eyes, blink. I don't have time for a breath. Silver was brilliant at the edge of my sight, I see.

Return your wrist and shake the treasure sword you have waved down as you look to heaven. It's just good to shake up the same track you came from, so you can rewind.

Once again, the sound of iron and iron overlapping each other echoes across the back street.

When I finally leaked my exhale and peeked at the ground, two needles were falling apart amicably on the soil. Even though it's still daylight, it's a lot of noise.

I was bluffing with a slight neck bang. Whatever, he didn't understand his mood.

Funny thing, if it was meant to be, it could be fear or impatience. Or the mind may feel something like rage.

Even so, it was felt that the heart would not cause the palpitations to jump faster and that the blood flow was normal at any time.

Yeah, normal. Daily tea rice, it's no different. Instead, some calculations pulse in my head. Shall I ask why, try to persuade you, or shall I tell you everything without covering it up?

All such, perhaps constructive, options are bounced off, and I feel that only one thought lies at the heart of my head.

- That son of a bitch, you fucked up.

My cheeks are cramped. I feel like I'm about to get a grin, a completely different look breaking into a row.

"I feel weird. Rather, bad. I can't believe I'm able to enjoy what I am without being hurt. I can't even think of a boulder."

With that said, Bruder shows up from the alley, clapping his shoulders, as if he's not feeling well. With his fingers around his broad hat, his face seems rather intriguing than depressed.

Yeah, that's yours. That look. You can't afford to lose sight of a blow all over you, or you can doubt the sanity of the assassin's appearance.

"- Bye, Rugis. Let's go fight again, if you shoot early, you're sure to lose."

That silly amount of room, too, everything.

I hate that part of you.

That's what I can afford, all of which killed you, Blooder.