" Shiraishi, I smell food!!"
Shiraishi remained unmoved by Luffy's excitement.
"This is the enemy's headquarters. You expect to have time to eat and drink here?"
Furthermore, the Jail's high-ranking combat strength includes: The Jail: Magellan, three awakened Zoan, Deputy the Jail: Hannyabal...
"I'm a loser, I hardly pay attention to whether the sun is shining or not, because I don't have time."
"My parents can't support me, and I don't have a high level of education. I'm all alone in the city, searching for my future."
"I applied for many jobs, but I couldn't get hired. Maybe no one likes someone who isn't good at talking, doesn't like to communicate, and hasn't demonstrated enough ability."
"I ate only two pieces of bread for three whole days. The hunger kept me awake at night. Luckily, I paid a month's rent in advance, so I could continue living in that dark basement and not have to go outside to endure the unusually cold winter wind."
Finally, I found a job as a night watchman at the hospital, specifically in the morgue.
"The hospital nights were colder than I had imagined. The wall lights in the corridors were off, and it was dark everywhere. I could only see my feet with the little bit of light seeping out from the rooms."
"The smell there was awful. Every now and then, bodies would be brought in, stuffed into body bags, and we would help carry them into the morgue."
"It's not a great job, but at least it allows me to afford bread, and I can use my free time at night to study. After all, not many people want to come to the morgue unless there are bodies that need to be brought in or taken away for cremation. Of course, I don't have enough money to buy books yet, and I don't see any hope of saving money at the moment."
"I have to thank my former colleague; if he hadn't suddenly left, I probably wouldn't have even gotten this job."
"I dream of taking turns being in charge of the daytime. Right now, I always go to sleep when the sun is up and get up when night falls, which makes my body a bit weak, and I occasionally get headaches."
One day, the movers brought in a new corpse.
"I heard from others that this is my former colleague who suddenly resigned."
"I was a little curious about him, so after everyone left, I pulled out the cabinet and quietly opened the body bag."
He was an old man with a pale, bluish face covered in wrinkles, and he looked frightening in the very dim light.
"He didn't have much hair, most of it was white, and all his clothes were taken off, leaving him with not a single piece of cloth."
"I saw a strange mark on his chest, bluish-black, but I can't describe its exact appearance because the lighting was too dim at the time."
I reached out and touched the mark; there was nothing special about it.
Looking at this former colleague, I wondered, if I continue like this, will I end up like him when I get old...?
I told him that I would accompany him to the crematorium tomorrow and personally take his ashes to the nearest free cemetery, so that those in charge of these matters wouldn't find it troublesome and just throw them away in some river or wasteland.
"This will sacrifice a morning's sleep, but thankfully, it's Sunday soon, so I can make up for it."
After saying that, I finished putting the body bag in and put it back into the cabinet.
The lights in the room seemed dimmer...
"After that day, every time I went to sleep, I would dream of a thick fog."
"I had a premonition that something would happen soon, a premonition that sooner or later something that could hardly be called human would come looking for me, but no one wanted to believe me. They thought that in that kind of environment and that kind of work, I had become mentally unstable and needed to see a doctor..."
A male customer sitting at the bar looked at the narrator who had suddenly stopped speaking:
"Then what?"
The male guest was in his thirties, wearing a brown woolen blouse and light yellow trousers, with his hair pressed flat, and a simple dark bowler hat beside him.
He looked ordinary, like most of the people in the tavern, with black hair and light blue eyes; neither handsome nor ugly, lacking any distinctive features.
The narrator in his eyes was a young man of eighteen or nineteen, with a tall and slender figure, long limbs, short black hair, and light blue eyes, but with striking features that made him stand out.
The young man looked at the empty wine glass in front of him and sighed:
"Then?
"Then I quit my job and went back to the countryside, and came here to brag to you."
As he spoke, a smile appeared on his face, a smile with a hint of mischief.
The male guest paused for a moment:
"Were you just bragging?"
"Haha." A burst of laughter erupted around the bar.
The laughter subsided slightly, and a thin, middle-aged man looked at the somewhat embarrassed guest and said:
"Outsider, you actually believe Lumian's stories? He tells a different one every day. Yesterday he was a hapless fellow whose fiancée broke off their engagement because of poverty, and today he's a corpse keeper!"
"Yes, what nonsense about spending thirty years on the east bank of the Sérénzo River and thirty years on the right Sérénzo River! They're just spouting gibberish!" another regular at the tavern chimed in.
They were all farmers from the large village of Cordu, wearing short-sleeved shirts that were either black, gray, or brown.
The dark-haired young man called Lumian slowly stood up, supporting himself on the bar counter with both hands, and said with a smile:
"As you know, this isn't a story I made up; it was all written by my sister. She loves writing stories and is a columnist for something called ' Fiction Weekly.'"
After saying that, he turned to the side, spread his hands towards the visiting guest, and smiled brightly:
"It seems she writes really well."
I'm sorry, you misunderstood.
The ordinary-looking man in the brown tweed jacket didn't get angry; he stood up and smiled in response:
"A very interesting story."
What is your name?
"Isn't it common sense to introduce yourself before asking questions?" Lumian laughed.
The visitor from out of town nodded:
My name is Ryan Coss.
"These two are my companions Valentine and Leah."
The last sentence refers to the man and woman sitting next to them.
The man was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with blond hair sprinkled with pink, and eyes that were a shade darker than lake blue. He was wearing a white vest, a blue tweed jacket, and black trousers, clearly having dressed up carefully before going out.
He had a rather indifferent expression and rarely looked at the farmers and herdsmen around him.
The woman appeared to be younger than the two men, with long, light gray hair tied in an elaborate bun, covered by a white veil that served as a hat.
Her eyes were the same color as her hair, and her gaze toward Lumian was filled with undisguised laughter, as if she found the events that had just occurred merely amusing.
Under the glow of the tavern's gas lamps, the woman named Leah revealed her delicate nose and beautifully curved lips; in a rural village like Cordu, she would definitely be considered a beauty.
She wore a white, pleated cashmere bodycon dress, paired with a beige cardigan and a pair of Marcel boots. Two small silver bells were tied to her veil and boots, which jingled as she walked into the tavern, attracting a lot of attention and making many men stare.
In their eyes, this was the kind of fashionable attire only found in big cities like Bigorre, the provincial capital, and Trier, the capital.
Lumian nodded to the three outsiders:
"My name is Lumian Lee, you can just call me Lumian."
"Li?" Leah blurted out.
"What's wrong? Is there something wrong with my surname?" Lumian asked curiously.
Ryan Coss Leah explained:
"Your surname is terrifying; I almost lost control of my voice just now."
Seeing the puzzled looks on the faces of the farmers and herders around him, he further explained:
Anyone who has interacted with sailors and merchants knows that there is a saying circulating on the five seas:
"I'd rather encounter pirate generals or even kings than a man named Frank Lee."
That person's surname is also Li.
"Is he that scary?" Lumian asked.
Ryan shook his head:
"I don't know, but since there's such a legend, it can't be bad."
He ended the conversation and said to Lumian:
"Thanks for your story, it deserves a drink. What would you like?"
"A glass of 'Green Fairy'." Lumian didn't stand on ceremony and sat down again.
Ryan Coss frowned slightly and said:
"Green Fairy"... absinthe?
"I think I need to remind you that absinthe is harmful to the body; this type of alcohol can potentially cause mental confusion and hallucinations."
"I didn't expect the trend from Trier to have spread here," Leah added with a smile.
Lumian said "Oh":
"So it turns out the people of Trier also like to drink 'Green Fairy'..."
"Life is hard enough for us, there's no need to worry about a little more hurt. This kind of wine can help us relax."
"Okay." Ryan sat back down and looked at the bartender. "One 'Green Fairy,' and another 'Spicy Heart.'"
"La Xin Kou" is a famous fruit-flavored soju.
"Why don't you give me a 'Green Fairy' too? I was the one who told you the truth just now, and I can tell you the whole story about this kid!" the thin, middle-aged man who was the first to expose Lumian's daily tales shouted indignantly. "Outsider, I can tell you still have doubts about the truth of that story!"
" Pierre, you'll do anything for a free drink!" Lumian shouted back.
Before Ryan could make a decision, Lumian added:
"Why can't I say it myself? That way I can have another 'Green Fairy' drink!"
"Because they don't know whether to believe what you say," the middle-aged man named Pierre said smugly. "Your sister's favorite story to tell the children is 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf.' A liar will always lose credibility."
"Okay." Lumian shrugged, watching the bartender push a glass of pale green liquor toward him.
Ryan looked at him and asked:
"May I?"
"No problem, as long as your wallet can afford the cost of these drinks." Lumian didn't seem to care.
"Then another 'Green Fairy', please." Ryan nodded.
Pierre immediately lit up with a smile:
"Generous outsiders, this kid is the village's biggest prankster, you must stay away from him."
"Five years ago, his sister Aurore brought him back to the village and he's never left since. Think about it, he was only thirteen before that. How could he possibly be working as a mortician at the hospital? Well, the nearest hospital to us is in Darliege, down the mountain. It takes a whole afternoon to walk there."
"Take it back to the village?" Leah asked sharply.
She tilted her head slightly, producing a tinkling sound.
Pierre nodded:
"Then, he took Aurore's surname, 'Li,' and even his given name, ' Lumian, ' was given to him by Aurore."
"I've forgotten what it was originally called," Lumian said with a grin, taking a sip of absinthe.
He doesn't seem to feel any inferiority or shame about having his past so exposed.