On the other side, in the "Broken Glass" tavern, a young man in his late twenties sat behind the bar. His face was pale, his eyes sunken, and his features a mix of exhaustion and fear. His name was Vensen and he'd been assigned to run the place.

And no, that wasn't because he was competent or had any special skill. The reason was simpler. After what happened last night, when that masked man stormed in and slaughtered everyone, no one else dared come back to work here. So they sent Vensen.

He banged his head on the table in frustration.

Across the place Nila was talking to a customer. She turned toward him, then when she stood in front of him she slapped him hard on the back.

"What's got you so tense?" she said, waving her right hand while resting the other on her hip. "Relax a little."

He lifted his head slowly. His eyes were half closed as if he hadn't slept for days, then he muttered in a flat voice:

"We're going to die."

She tilted her head:

"Aren't you exaggerating?"

"No. We're going to die."

She sighed:

"Calm down. There are three assimilator in this place. Do you think what happened last night can happen again?"

"If it couldn't happen again, do you think they would've sent me here?" he said, pressing his fingers to his temples.

"You're just blowing things out of proportion. Like I said, there are three assimilator here. You're safe."

"No, I'm not safe. Haven't you heard about that masked man who stormed several centers and killed everyone inside?"

She waved her hand dismissively:

"That's just rumors."

"They're not rumors. And anyway, shouldn't you be worried about Ash? He was here last night."

"His body wasn't among the bodies, so he's alive."

"By what logic is that?"

"You know him. He's like a cockroach."

A faint smile formed on Vensen's lips:

"On that point, I agree with you."

But his smile quickly faded, replaced by a frown. Then he looked toward a wanted poster pinned to the wall opposite him.

"He reminds me of someone…"

Nila turned to where he was looking, walked over and tore the poster off the wall, then stared at it for a moment before saying:

"Do you know him?"

Vensen exhaled deeply:

"He looks like an old colleague of mine."

"Did you work with the Bloody Fang?"

"No."

She held the poster up high.

"There's a huge bounty on your old colleague's head."

He waved a hand in denial:

"That's not him."

She brought the poster closer to her face.

"What was your colleague's name?"

"Jevan."

"They even have the same name."

Vensen's expression changed. He stood up quickly, shoved Nila aside, snatched the poster from her and began reading the name written on it. Then his frown turned into a broad smile and he shouted as he slammed his fist hard on the table:

"I knew he'd survive!"

Silence fell over the tavern for a moment. Then everyone inside drew their weapons and turned toward Vensen at the same time.

***

[Jevan perspective]

I headed toward the "Broken Glass" tavern. My mind was clear and my body felt strangely light lighter even than when I'd first held that water sword. I stopped in front of the door, stared at the wooden sign for a moment, then pushed the door open and went inside.

I sat at the bar without anyone noticing me. On the floor next to the stool, Timaeus sat quietly.

The mask's ability to erase presence was truly impressive. No one even glanced at me, and not only that, they didn't notice the cat walking at my side either.

I could not only make myself less noticeable but anything I wanted, as long as it stayed within four meters.

There were about thirty men scattered around the tavern. All of them heavily armed and wearing silver armor. That alone made me reconsider testing my new equipment. A voice in my head kept screaming, "You can do it. Kill them all." Which, to be honest, only strengthened my resolve to leave.

Apparently the mask's negative effects were already starting to hit me.

In any case, I wasn't crazy enough to fight all these men at once. I was about to leave, but then I heard the bartender and that girl talking. I don't even know why, but I decided to stay and listen.

…

Things escalated in an unexpected way. Everyone in the tavern had raised their weapons at the bartender, who was holding my wanted poster. Apparently that bartender somehow knew the original Jevan.

I muttered:

"First rule: no one who was here before I came in is allowed to move."

Transparent chains shot out from my gloves and wrapped around everyone in the place.

Then I lunged at the depressed bartender, grabbed him by the collar of his coat and dragged him outside with me.

Sure, the laws I impose apply to me too, and that's an annoying drawback, but there are plenty of loopholes to exploit like this one.

In a nearby alley behind the tavern I set the bartender down. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but I covered it quickly with my hand.

A group of armed men passed close by from the direction of the tavern. We waited until they'd gone, then I removed my hand from his mouth.

He took a deep breath and said:

"I don't know why you helped me, but thank you."

I waved my hand:

"Don't thank me." I pointed a finger at him and added, "I only saved you because I have a question for you."

He straightened his coat collar and looked at me. His eyes were trembling.

"If I know the answer, I'll tell you," he said.

The odd thing was he seemed more at ease now than he had in the tavern, even though he was still shaking.

A depressed bartender hunted by his own customers, yet he seemed to be in a decent mood? Anyway, that wasn't my problem.

I asked him directly:

"What's your relationship with Jevan?"

He didn't speak. He just stared at me in silence, his face twitching.

I raised my right hand and murmured:

"Second rule: lying is forbidden. Every word that comes out of your mouth will be the truth."

Transparent chains spilled out of the glove and wrapped tightly around him.

I repeated the question:

"So, what's your relationship with Jevan?"

He tried to resist at first, covering his mouth with both hands. But in the end he spoke:

"We worked together in the Street Sons gang."

"Street Sons? Never heard of them."

"It was just a small gang. Of course you haven't heard of it."

"Was? What happened to it?"

He furrowed his brows and sighed:

"Our leader was caught by the Investigation Bureau. Without him the other gangs wiped us out."

I looked away from him, thinking, "The Bureau usually doesn't care about the Lower District. They didn't even go after the big gangs. So why chase down a worthless leader like that?"

I asked him:

"Why was the Bureau after him?"

He smiled bitterly:

"I don't know."

Looks like little Jevan went through a lot since the last time I saw him. But for heaven's sake, what happened to that kid all these years?

The bartender cut off my thoughts:

"Why are you looking for Jevan?"

His body was trembling, and his eyes stared straight at my mask. Fear was clear on his face, yet he didn't try to run.

"I'm not looking for him."

I smiled under the mask. After all, why would I look for myself? Technically I'm not Jevan, but I live in his body, so of course I'm not going to look for him.

He said as he stared at me:

"Then… why did you ask me about your connection to him?"

Obviously he didn't believe me. But that wasn't my problem anyway. I'd already decided not to answer him. I planned to simply turn and leave. I didn't want to get tangled up with more of that bastard Jevan's acquaintances. They'd brought me enough trouble already.

But unfortunately, the words slipped out of my mouth without my permission:

"That's because I am Jevan."

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