The Spoiler

Humanity's love of alcohol might date back to ancient times. No matter the country or ethnicity, despite having different cultures and customs, our pursuit of fine wine was strangely unanimous.

People always loved hurting themselves, and never tired of it.

Looking at all the pursuits people enjoyed, every single one brought satisfaction through self-harm.

Tea was bitter, cigarettes choked, alcohol burned. Sugar water was sweet and fragrant, yet no one got addicted to that.

Perhaps, somewhere in the dark, humanity used this self-mutilating behavior to remind itself: life was full of disappointments, which was why happiness had to be found amid bitterness, spice, sourness, and salt.

After several drinks, one of them was blind while the other was used to working nights, so neither of them turned on the lights. They switched on Matt's radio, lowered the volume, and enjoyed a Chinese late-night meal to the tune of a midnight music program.

Matt rarely let down his guard like this, trying to act recklessly for himself, for his current mood, for nothing more than enjoying good food and drink.

In Matt's eyes, this kind of life already counted as reckless indulgence.

After three rounds of wine and five flavors of dishes, the two of them finally shed their serious façades and defenses. Like old friends who had known each other for years, they laughed and chatted about their embarrassing stories.

Matt did most of the talking. Being a master of time management wasn't easy. Matt slept less than five hours a day on average. During the day, he volunteered, taking cases for poor ordinary people free of charge. Sometimes, not only did he earn nothing, he even had to pay out of pocket.

If Matt himself hadn't been skilled enough to occasionally take on a few proper cases, his law firm would've gone bankrupt long ago.

Daytime matters exhausted his mind and spirit, but nighttime gave him no rest either. Physical work that wore down his body was waiting for him.

As an ordinary man without any special abilities, Matt's battles against Kingpin and The Hand over the past few years could be said to have been fought with his life on the line.

The scars large and small across his body probably topped all of Marvel. If he wasn't at least somewhat of a protagonist, he'd have died long ago!

But speaking of which, Matt really was a handsome guy!

When Leon watched the Daredevil TV series in his previous life, he had looked up some Daredevil comics online out of curiosity. He didn't remember much else, only how comic writers constantly praised Matt's outstanding looks through narration and the perspectives of passersby.

Maybe Leon simply hadn't read many comics and lacked experience. Still, in Leon's impression, Matt was the only Marvel comic protagonist to receive such an honor. From that point alone, Matt was undoubtedly Marvel's number one handsome man.

Thinking of that, Leon sighed. Such a great guy—how had his love life turned out so miserably?

Though the drinks had affected him somewhat, Matt still heard Leon's sigh.

"What is it? Regretting taking out all your good booze? Feeling the pain now?"

Matt was clearly in a genuinely good mood. His relationship with Leon had also improved greatly because of this candlelight-free dinner.

The way he joked now carried the tone of an old friend.

As a standard rough northern man at heart, Leon had never been able to take provocation at the drinking table.

At that, he took another small cup of beer from his storage space. It wasn't much, just a tiny bottle.

He slammed it onto the table with a bang. "Matt! Tonight, I'll show you what real good liquor is!"

[Shawshank Special Ice Beer]

Effect: Permanently increases life recovery speed by 100% after drinking. Permanently increases resistance to control-type skills by 5. (Special effect: Sharing it with others grants an additional 1 Intelligence.)

Rank: Purple

Quality: Ordinary

Note: Nothing can stop your yearning for freedom.

Note 2: Sunlight falls upon your shoulders, and you feel like a free man.

This was the best cup of alcohol the Single-Log Wine Barrel had produced since Leon obtained it.

Leon, who had always stingily used test tubes to hold his alcohol, had specifically bought a pretty little bottle for this drink, intending to share it with someone someday.

The mood had already built up to this point. What was the point of hiding it now?!

It was you, Matt!

"Seeing" Leon take out a bottle that held no more than two or three hundred milliliters, Matt understood that Leon had emptied out his reserves. The truly good stuff had arrived.

Without any polite refusal or meaningless formalities, Matt laughed heartily, drained the alcohol in his glass, and pushed the empty cup forward. "Let's see what good booze you've been hiding!"

Leon immediately emptied his own glass as well, then divided the alcohol in the tiny bottle between himself and Matt.

After pouring out the last drop, Leon put the bottle away again. Ordinary people had to live frugally. Being extravagant was something rich people did!

Holding up his glass, Matt first brought it to his nose and smelled it. To his surprise, it was actually beer!

Matt had assumed that something Leon brought out with such care would be a cellar-aged liquor like brandy or rum. He hadn't expected beer.

Out of trust for Leon, Matt didn't underestimate the mere hundred-plus milliliters of beer in his cup. Raising it, he took a shallow sip with the solemn attitude of someone drinking for the first time.

"Oh! This..."

Hahahaha!

Leon had been holding his cup and waiting precisely for this moment!

No matter what effects the drinks produced by Wooden Arhat's Solo Wine Barrel had, their flavor was truly incredible. Most of them even had their own origins and stories, letting the drinker experience that scene and atmosphere in a strangely profound way.

Shawshank. The moment Leon saw the name, he knew where this drink came from. No wonder it had such quality.

Matt took another small sip, but this time it wasn't for any other reason. He simply couldn't bear to drink it.

He had noticed that Leon had even put the bottle away. Maybe he planned to take it out and smell it sometime. There was no need to think about it—getting to drink this again would be difficult.

No matter how slowly he sipped, a little over a hundred milliliters only lasted a few mouthfuls. When Matt swallowed the final sip, he let out a long breath. Amazing!

As that mouthful went down, Matt felt his mind become utterly clear. The work pressure and exhaustion accumulated during the day seemed to be swept away, leaving him indescribably relaxed and at ease.

"This feeling is like..."

"Flying through the skies of fate~ a beautiful dream~"

"Hahaha!" Matt laughed loudly. This friend of his really was an interesting guy.

Leon drained the rest of his beer as well. Cup in hand, he leaned back sideways against the sofa. "Sunlight falls upon my shoulders, and I feel like~ a free man..."

Matt clapped his hands. "Ha! That's exactly the feeling! That line was much better than those two ghostly howls you called songs!"

Leon was deeply unconvinced. "If you don't know how to appreciate it, don't spout nonsense and ruin children's taste in art!"

Matt was even more unconvinced. "You probably don't know how many people from the music academy wept every day when I chose to study law."

"They were that happy?"

"They wept every day!"

"That was crying tears of joy!"

The two went back and forth until they began gesturing at each other. They weren't fighting—they were preparing to find somewhere to show off their singing and have a contest!

Leon had forgotten what he had originally come here to do. Now he was wholly focused on performing "The Spring Breeze of Reform Blows Across the Land" for Matt. If that didn't work, he'd sing "After This Cup, There Are Still Three More," and let him witness the power of a karaoke king!

Matt was fired up too, continuously claiming he could blow a leaf into sounding like a cello. Then he said the artistic bacteria throughout his body made him exceptional at drums, and that maybe he could perform a duet with whatever Leon had mentioned—suona!

Didn't they say alcohol revealed one's true nature? Before drinking, I cower and yield. After drinking too much, I strike with heavy fists!

The two staggered toward the door for their showdown, leaving everything uncleaned. Matt even forgot that he was blind. After all, this man came equipped with echolocation and a three-dimensional imaging system in his head. He could climb walls and leap across rooftops in the middle of the night as easily as walking on level ground. That usual act of having trouble getting around was just for others to see.

Now he had forgotten to keep acting. Eyes closed, he searched for his clothes and keys, yet still remembered to straighten the cushions on the sofa before leaving!

How did that look like a blind man?!

The two reached the door, pulled it open, and stopped.

An old man leaning on a cane stood outside.

Leon didn't speak because he had no idea what was going on. Matt not speaking was understandable, but the old man blocking the doorway not speaking was strange!

"Sir, are you... looking for someone?"

The old man wore a baseball cap and was slightly hunched over. He looked quite old and unhealthy, so Leon asked.

Who would've thought that the old man wouldn't answer at all? Instead, he stared at Matt as if Matt had wronged him, abandoned him, and become utterly unreasonable.

Leon took one look. They knew each other?

Hm?

Matt, an old man, a cane...

Putting that information together with the old man's debt-collector stance and Matt's silent reaction...

Was this... Stick?

Sure enough, Leon had barely formed a plausible guess when Matt spoke. His voice hoarse, he said in a complicated, heavy tone, "Master, it's been a long time."

Their plan to go out and compete naturally fell apart. Leon was a guest, after all. His host's master had come knocking in the middle of the night, perhaps for something serious. Dragging Matt out at a time like this would be terribly inconsiderate.

So they returned to the room.

After entering, Stick first glanced at the table covered in leftover food and dishes, then snorted.

Then, without another word, he sat at the small tea table by the window, as far from the dining table as possible.

That ambiguous snort immediately gave Leon a poor first impression of Stick.

Was he really here to collect a debt?

Had seeing someone who owed money eating and drinking instead of paying him back put him in a bad mood?

Otherwise, why was a guest arriving in the middle of the night putting on such airs in someone else's home?!

Couldn't he see the host already had another guest?!

Leon didn't know much about Stick. He hadn't even read many of Matt's comics, much less anything about Stick.

He only knew that this old man called Stick was Matt's master and was also blind. He seemed highly skilled, and apparently he was some sort of... president of The Chaste?

Anyway, he was some kind of leader.

That was all Leon knew.

Stick hadn't given Leon a pleasant look, so naturally Leon had no intention of acknowledging him. He lifted part of his mask to expose his nose and mouth, plopped back down where he had been sitting, and resumed eating.

There was no need to guess that Stick's expression was probably quite unpleasant.

He had originally wanted Leon to recognize the situation and leave on his own, so he could speak with Matt conveniently.

He hadn't expected Leon to disregard the usual script and sit back down to eat!

Stick had waited outside for a long time. Inside, two grown men drank and ate meat, while outside, a blind old man shivered in the cold wind, facing the wall as he waited bitterly.

What was wrong with young people these days? Didn't they know to respect the elderly and care for the young?

"Matt, I have something to say to you."

Leon was still wrestling with a shrimp. Stick waited for a while, getting hungry himself, but Leon, the outsider, showed no intention of leaving. Matt had also remained silent. Left with no choice, Stick finally couldn't help speaking.

"Then say it."

Leon was the one who answered. He wasn't stupid. Of course he could tell that this master and disciple didn't seem to have a harmonious relationship. Matt didn't seem happy to see his master either. Just moments ago, the two of them had been enthusiastically preparing to go out and have fun, but the moment this old man arrived, Matt's mood immediately sank.

Now, it seemed Matt didn't even want to say another word to this master of his.

Thinking about Matt's personality, Leon formed a rough idea and guess.

"Weren't we waiting for you to speak?"

After eating another cherry tomato, Leon added, "But don't ask to borrow money."

Stick looked at Matt. His disciple still had his head lowered, looking unwilling to speak. Turning to Leon, Stick asked, "Who are you?"

"Me?" Leon said, "I came to borrow money, but it turned out Matt was even poorer than me. So I couldn't borrow any money, and then I lent him some instead."

For a moment, Stick couldn't make sense of it or tell whether Leon was lying. He clearly froze before simply ignoring Leon and addressing Matt directly. "Matt, I need you to take my place."

Since entering the room, Matt finally spoke for the first time. "We've already discussed this, Master."

He raised his head. "I won't become the leader of The Chaste. I don't want to watch them die one by one for no reason."

While the master and disciple spoke, Leon was thinking: Ah! The Chaste! I thought it was something like the Pure Society!

Pure Society. That name sounded anything but pure!

As Matt and Stick both tacitly treated Leon as a transparent man who didn't exist, Leon gradually understood the situation through their exchange and argument.

Simply put, The Chaste, led by Stick, had been opposing The Hand as a force against them for a long time. Stick mentioned that The Hand possessed a kind of power called Black Sky.

Stick planned to assassinate Black Sky. He had already prepared himself not to return from this trip, so he hoped Matt could replace him and continue leading The Chaste against The Hand!

Matt's persistent opposition was because The Hand's power vastly exceeded The Chaste's. Those who joined The Chaste were either people who had grudges against The Hand, or simply children Stick had rescued from The Hand.

For a long time, Matt had watched members of The Chaste burn themselves away like fireflies for certain ideals and justice. He knew he couldn't lead The Chaste to destroy The Hand, which was why he had always refused the position of leader.

Hearing that, Leon shouted inwardly: Well, isn't this perfect!

So, amid the two men's argument, Leon interjected, "How about you tell me where The Hand is, and I'll go kill them all?"

The moment Leon finished speaking, both Stick and Matt froze.

Answering a reader's question.

There was a female lead, and only one female lead. It really was written into the outline, but causing trouble was this protagonist's true nature! Don't worry~

And of course, this story would be finished. It wouldn't be abandoned halfway through.

This was the first book I signed a contract for, and the first book where I had loyal readers. It meant a lot to me. Even if it didn't make money, I would write everything I wanted to write and give it an ending.

Please rest assured about that too ←_←

Finally... please vote! Please bookmark! Recommendation votes and the like were really, really important for a new book, so ←_←