Alien Visitor

Spaceships landed and took off again, crowds moved about, noisy and dense, and the cold wind howled. The old sailor Haide, squatted outside a helipad, tucked his coat in tightly, and once again took his hands out of his pockets.

He wore thick gloves, but that still couldn't keep out the cold, so every now and then he had to reluctantly rub his hands, then his face, neck, and ears in the cold wind.

If his nose or ears were frostbitten, he wouldn't have the money to go to the hospital. At best, he could only buy a bottle of wine, drink it all in one go, and then sleep in his filthy house for the night, hoping to endure the pain.

That's considered treatment; almost everyone does it that way. There's no other way; Banjo-1 is such a cold and poor place, and it's a breeding ground for sailors.

Haide didn't know why, but he didn't care. He just wanted to find a job—any job would do. Besides being a sailor, he could be a frail bodyguard, a terrible cook, or a third-rate tailor.

Or perhaps it's a tour guide who walks very slowly and speaks in a vulgar manner.

Among the passing crowd, Haide spotted a man. He was tall, wearing a fedora, a thick black coat, and a greyish-white scarf, and carrying a medium-sized brown briefcase.

At first glance, he seemed no different from the crowd around him, but Haide immediately recognized him as a tourist; the interest on his face was so obvious that it was immediately clear.

The sailor, his temples graying, coughed as he stood up from a corner between two walls, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a square tin box.

He unscrewed the cap, took a sip of the strong liquor, waited for almost half a minute until steam rose from his lips, and then walked towards the man.

This was a last resort; he hadn't eaten anything all day and needed something to drink to make his complexion look healthier.

Hiring a peasant as a tour guide might be fine, but if it's a sickly peasant, probably not many people would be willing to do it.

However, Haide still had some doubts: Why would this person come to Banjo-1 for tourism?

Filled with questions, he approached the man and, in the cold wind, mumbled, "The Throne is above—"

The man suddenly looked down at him, Haide's prepared speech vanished completely. This was certainly not a pleasant experience, but the old sailor couldn't care less at this point.

He coughed twice, mumbled something, and was about to leave with his head down, his steps unsteady, as if he had just been a drunkard causing trouble for no reason. However, a hand landed on his shoulder the moment he turned around.

A deep, hoarse voice sounded above his head.

"Gentlemen."

Haide pretended not to hear and tried to break free and leave, but the hand remained motionless, as steady as Stone.

"Gentlemen?"

"."

The old sailor swallowed a mouthful of wine-smelling saliva with regret, then turned away. False enthusiasm seeped from every pore, creating a comical smile on his disheveled face.

He removed his hat and gave a stiff, slight bow. "Is there something you need, sir?"

The man smiled slightly at him.

Half an hour later, they entered a small, shabby tavern called the Foolish Fisherman's Home —a silly name, but nobody cared. It served hot fish soup and cheap homemade brew.

More importantly, this is one of the few taverns in Banjo-1's lower town that has heating, and it only costs three universal coins.

Over time, this place became a gathering place for many sailors, Haide was a regular. Therefore, when he and a strange man walked into the booth area one after the other, the bartender, Katerina, was somewhat surprised.

"Has that old man found a job?" she asked her father and boss, leaning against the edge of the bar.

The bald bartender, busy inside, sighed, turned around, and shoved a menu into her arms. "Go to work, Katerina. Don't concern yourself with other people's private matters."

The red-haired waitress rolled her eyes, stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette, and walked towards the booth.

She was a little distracted, perhaps because she had spent money on a piece of junk at a grocery store that morning, or perhaps because she simply didn't like Haide, at least not anymore.

This old man used to be a very likeable, taciturn but very upright person, but now he drinks all day long and spends every penny he earns on the Foolish Fisherman's Home.

Many people have tried to persuade him to pull himself together, after all, the Emperor will not abandon anyone, but that person must first be strong themselves. However Haide seems determined to die from alcoholism, so now almost no one associates with him anymore.

Katerina walked to the booth and handed the menu to Haide. The old sailor gave her a pitiful, grateful smile, but then handed the cleaned-up old menu to another person inside the booth.

"Any recommendations?" the person asked, taking the menu.

Katerina listened to his voice, paused for a few seconds, and then remembered that she should answer the question, Haide gave his advice before she could speak.

"Fish soup, Mr. Karyl, the fish soup here is excellent and very inexpensive."

"Alright, two servings of thick fish soup then. Any other recommendations, Mr. Haide? I don't want my tour guide to go hungry."

"This--"

Haide laughed awkwardly, glancing up at Katerina, only to find the waitress wasn't even looking at him. He had to cough to bring her back to her senses.

"Then bring us two more servings of fried fish and rice, Katerina? Oh, and some hot water too."

The waitress finally looked at him, but her gaze was strange, as if she was surprised that he wasn't drinking anymore, or perhaps she was just blaming him for bothering her.

Haide looked increasingly embarrassed and could only cough again. "You heard that, Katerina, please hurry up and serve the food, okay?"

"Understood," Katerina replied, then turned to the other person in the booth. "Sir, where are you from?"

The man who had been looking down at the menu looked up under the warm yellow light. His face, which had been as pale as Ghost in the cold wind, now looked somewhat human, though his dark eyes still seemed eerie.

Haide knew that this probably didn't matter much to Katerina. The young girl was very curious about the world outside of Banjo-1, and she had asked many questions of every sailor who came to rest.

What's more, this person is actually quite handsome.

The old sailor sighed inwardly—he had seen too many things like this: men or women from other worlds meeting briefly in another world, each getting what they needed, and saying goodbye at dawn.

However, his employer did not give the reaction he had expected. There was no flirting, no smiles, only a flat, very bland statement.

"From a very far place," Haide saw his employer reply calmly.

For some reason, the old sailor suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

He didn't know where this feeling came from, but he always felt that the man who introduced himself as Karyl Lohars was wearing a mask, and that the mask seemed about to slip off.

What will happen then?

"Where exactly did it come from?" Katerina pressed, her tone unconsciously softening.

The man smiled, a hint of apology in his expression. "I'm sorry, I can't disclose that. Also, please hurry up and serve the food, ma'am? We're both very hungry, please."

"Oh dear, you don't need to keep calling me 'Madam'."

Katerina left with a smile, her footsteps even sounding lighter because of the address and the smile.

Haide these matters, the chill in his heart suddenly vanished. He pinched his thigh under the table, feeling utterly bewildered.

What just happened? he wondered. What's wrong with me? Did I drink too much?

The old sailor silently placed his hands on the table and clasped them tightly. Several minutes later, he finally managed a humble and ingratiating smile.

"Mr. Karyl, what brings you to Banjo-1?"

"A tour," his employer said, his long, slender fingers tapping lightly on the greasy wooden table.

"But there's not much to see around here. All we see are chimneys, factories, and mines. Honestly, even if you've decided to hire me, I don't know how to be a tour guide."

"That's alright, Mr. Haide. By the way, where can I buy a newspaper around here?"

". newspaper?"

"Yes, I think it's still early, there should still be newsboys or newsstands open nearby. I've recently developed a bad habit of reading something while eating. Books, newspapers, magazines—I'm not picky, but there has to be something. Anyway, are there any nearby?"

"Yes, yes," Haide replied quickly, standing up. "It's just a short distance outside the door. I'll go for you."

"No need."

His employer slowly stood up, picked up his fedora, turned up the collar of his coat, and walked out of the tavern with long strides, leaving his scarf and suitcase on the slightly dirty booth.

Haide watched him walk away, then sat down somewhat bewildered. He stared at the greyish-white scarf and brown suitcase, falling into a strange silence.

If Katerina hadn't come over with two bowls of thick fish soup on a plate, the silence would probably have continued.

"Where is your employer, Haide?"

"He went out to buy a newspaper," the old sailor said absentmindedly, taking a spoonful of soup.

The familiar taste, along with the boneless bits of fish, settled into his empty stomach, steaming hot, and a warm feeling rose from the places it passed through. He sighed, took another sip, and his expression finally softened.

"Buy a newspaper? Are you serious?" the waitress pressed, puzzled. "And, he actually left his things with you without a second thought?"

Haide shook his head, then frowned. He put down his spoon, a little annoyed, and said, "When have you ever seen me do anything like petty theft?"

Katerina belatedly bit her lip and whispered, "I'm sorry, Haide."

"It's alright, go ahead with your work," the old sailor replied curtly, lowering his head to continue drinking his soup.

A few minutes later, the tavern door opened again, and a man carrying two newspapers walked in with the cold wind. Haide's employer returned to his seat, his expression unchanged, seemingly unaffected by the outside temperature.

He first handed a newspaper to the old sailor, and then, to the latter's surprise and delight, lowered his head to sniff the rich fish soup in front of him, a smile suddenly appearing on his face.

"The ingredients are top-notch," he said softly. "Six coins can buy such a large bowl, Mr. Haide?"

"Add two more universal coins and you can get an extra serving of fish," Haide replied nervously. "Besides, the stupid fisherman's thick fish soup has no bones, so it always sells very well."

"No thorns?"

"Yes, sir. You see that bar over there? See that bald guy standing behind the bar? That's the Stupid Fisherman himself, Reed Binson."

"Years ago, he had a son. That boy was different from his sister, Katerina. Although he was physically weak, he did well in school and was also very talented in mechanics, often helping his father make useful little things."

"Then, one day, a man in a red robe appeared at the tavern's door. He waited from morning till night, until little Binsen got home. After that, Li De's son went to become that man in the red robe's apprentice."

"And so, ten years passed, and we never saw him again. Only machines kept being moved in—things like fish deboning machines and air purifiers. Li De always boasted about it, saying his son would become a remarkable Tech-Priest."

Haide finished speaking in one breath, picked up the fish soup, took a big gulp, and exhaled a satisfied breath of hot air. His employer, however, did not pick up the spoon, but instead sat a little further away from the table and unfolded the newspaper in his hand.

The smell of cheap ink lingered for a moment, Haide looked up to see a large line of text on the front page of the newspaper: Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar, Regain the Light!

Five Hundred Worlds? Where is that? Haide blinked, intending to discreetly read someone else's newspaper as he always did, but suddenly realized that there was a newspaper right next to him.

So he imitated his employer, leaned back, unfolded the newspaper, and began to turn the pages. He could read, but he read slowly, taking some time. He wasn't interested in the front-page news, so he simply turned to the next page.

This time, the news published in the newspaper truly caught his attention.

"The Dark Angels Chapter has visited the Banjo System?!" Haide exclaimed in shock. "By the Emperor!"

Across from him, his employer, a traveler named Karyl Lohars, squinted with amusement.