Soldier Boy squeezed straight through to get a better look.
Butcher looked as though he had a lot weighing on his mind. Even his shirt was in tatters, as if he had escaped from some refugee camp.
His complexion showed his sorry state most clearly.
In the original show, Butcher had always been like an unkillable cockroach, fiercely intimidating, his will as solid as a rock.
Now, however, he looked more like a walking corpse.
"Oh, you naughty thing, still playing coy with us?"
One of the men surrounding Butcher, a vicious-looking fellow, stroked his round, heavily bearded face and spoke in a simpering voice.
Yes, simpering, with a high, thin voice.
At that moment, Soldier Boy and Butcher were perfectly in sync and made the same movement.
Both dug at their ears in shock.
They simply could not imagine where that voice had come from in the vicious-looking fellow before them.
"Come now, darling, if you dared to tattoo something like that on your back, what do we have to be shy about?" the bearded man said softly.
He swirled the glass of red wine in his hand, winked flirtatiously at Butcher, then drained it.
Then he smacked his lips, seemingly savoring the wine's rich aroma, though his eyes never left Butcher.
The bearded man sat down beside Butcher. "Darling, this is what we call meeting each other halfway."
Butcher was completely numb. He felt his scalp prickle. Most of his drunkenness had vanished.
By now, a bizarre atmosphere had settled over the entire bar.
The music had long since stopped. A small portion of the crowd looked toward Soldier Boy, while most of the rest stared at Butcher with varying expressions, but without exception, they were all watching for entertainment.
The burly men responsible for the bar's security