The Long Journey After Becoming an Ancient Dragon

Chapter 8

Tonight, the atmosphere in Jess’s tavern was different.

It was usually lively, with each table engrossed in its own conversations, but tonight loud shouts could be heard from outside, making it sound more like a concert or a raucous dance party.

Carter, Molly, and Aino were finishing their meal when a group of young men barged in. As Molly put it, they were the kind of people who were a headache at first glance.

They brought a young girl with them, her face flushed and her gaze vacant, letting them half-drag her to their table.

Without checking if the owner had noticed, one of them casually shouted, “Bring us food and drinks!” before they began causing a ruckus, laughing loudly.

Watching them act so recklessly, while touching the dazed girl, some patrons looked on in disgust, moving their seats farther away, while others observed with morbid curiosity.

“What rotten luck, running into this sort of crowd,” Carter muttered to the two women.

“It’s a shame. Let’s finish up and head home quickly,” Molly whispered as she placed some food in Aino’s bowl.

Aino discreetly observed the table of young men, instantly noticing that the girl had been drugged.

Interestingly, she recognized one of the men—wasn’t he the first one she’d seen when she encountered that “tasty” youth?

With his plain appearance and vaguely sleazy aura, he was hardly memorable. Only his familiar face revealed his identity; the people around him had changed—neither the muscular guy nor the “best-tasting” one was present.

It seemed another chance to intervene had come her way.

“Please... I really don’t have any money...” the girl whimpered, her voice thick with desperation. Not only had they brought her here against her will, but they were taking her money as well.

“No money? Don’t you care if that old man lives or dies?” one of the men sneered, slamming a bottle onto the table so hard it shattered, drawing attention with the loud crash.

Seeing the tension rising, Jess hurried over, attempting to diffuse the situation as he cleaned up the glass shards with a placating smile.

“Hey, no need to scare the poor girl. How about I cover this meal for you all? Just go easy on her, okay?”

Unimpressed, one of them kicked the shards he’d just swept up, sending them scattering again.

“Ha! You think you can tell us what to do?”

In retaliation for Jess’s interference, they resumed harassing the girl, while one of them shoved Jess around.

Several patrons, appalled, began murmuring amongst themselves, “What kind of people act like this...”

Crichton, heavily intoxicated, staggered down the street, babbling loudly about their antics.

“Haha! There were so many people around... hiccup...”

“Did you see how they looked at us when we were dealing with her... hehe...”

“They didn’t like it, but what could they do? I started smacking her right there! Hahaha...”

Parker kept a wary distance from the drunk, not wanting him to vomit on him, nodding along absentmindedly.

“Yeah, they can’t do anything to us.”

Maybe they couldn’t now, but what about later? Would they face the consequences they deserved?

Despite being part of the group, Parker found himself strangely wishing for such a day to come. It was a curious feeling.

But perhaps that was foolish. In a city like Dante, who could ever deal with rabid dogs like them?

As they walked further into an empty, dimly lit alley, Parker suddenly spotted a familiar figure standing ahead.

She stood directly in the middle of the street, her presence so stark that it seemed the lights avoided her, leaving her alone in the darkness.

Parker came to an abrupt halt, while Crichton, oblivious, continued staggering forward.

A loud “boom” echoed, and Crichton exploded into a cloud of blood mist. His remains seemed to gather mid-air, as though guided, and drifted into the girl’s slightly open mouth.

Crichton was gone. The “girl” had devoured him?

The entire incident took just a few breaths, leaving no trace that Crichton had ever existed.

“I...”

Parker opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him. What could he possibly say that would save him? He had no clue who or what this person was, nor why she’d killed Crichton.

Speak to humans as humans, to ghosts as ghosts. But what could he do when he didn’t even know if she was human or ghost?

As the girl slowly approached, Parker felt an overwhelming sense of dread, a terror that made him tremble uncontrollably.

He was going to die, wasn’t he? It felt as though the scythe of death had already pressed against his throat.

In despair, Parker closed his eyes, waiting for the end.