Bartenders could not wear gloves; they interfered with their sense of touch.
But they needed to scrub their palms with sea salt from time to time to keep them clean. Hoshino sniffed her hands. There was no scent at all. Fu Hua's body had already become one of complete purity; theoretically, there would not even be palm sweat to affect the taste.
She lightly licked her palm.
There really was no taste at all.
This woman was like a lonely traveler. As she passed through this world, she would leave behind nothing that could be called a trace.
Thinking about it was rather sad.
But sadness did not suit Lungmen. This was a city that glittered with light. No one cared about your past; as long as you set foot upon its clean streets, anyone could melt into this city-state like a drop of water flowing into the sea.
The immortal arrived at the bar's entrance.
As usual, the place was deserted. To Penguin Logistics, the bar was merely a base of operations and Emperor's personal collection room on the side. No one cared whether business was good, so Hoshino walking in like this was quite a rare sight to the others.
"What do you need delivered?"
In all of Penguin Logistics, Croissant was the only one who worked seriously. Everyone else was slacking off.
Someone walked into a bar, and the server immediately asked a question according to a logistics company's procedures. It was hard to imagine just how terrible business had to be.
"Aren't you going to ask what I'd like to drink?"
Hoshino sat before Croissant, her fingers lightly brushing over the long mixing spoon. Though it had not been used in a long time, it was practically dust-free. As the owner, Emperor did care rather deeply