The late-night yakiniku joint served as a sanctuary for many, a place to wash away the day's toil.
It was as if stepping into that small, steam-hazed shop beneath the flickering lantern could dissolve life's troubles and joys alike.
After all, what were they but trivial worries?
What did the forested Kanto or the sea-kissed summer truly matter?
But for Anthony, this was no refuge from life's nuisances.
This was his battlefield.
The old men chatted loudly, their voices like artillery shells whizzing overhead. Even the warm, meat-scented mist carried a faint, sulfurous tinge.
Drenched in sweat, Anthony carried several plates of freshly grilled skewers to the elders' table. A towel hung around his neck, yet he didn't even bother to wipe his face.
His once meticulously styled hair, which still held the faint scent of dusk, was now a disheveled mess.
To keep it out of his eyes, he'd hastily tied it up with a bandana.
Now, with an apron stained beyond recognition, he looked more like a scruffy youth or a young man who'd seen better days.
"Hey! What's the hold-up? Can't you see my glass is empty? Go fetch another table!"
No sooner had Anthony set down a stack of empty plates than a flicker of light cut through the steamy haze, followed by a voice he knew all too well.
Through the translucent steam, a gleaming, faintly golden flame trembled, each flicker threatening to burn this whole place down.
But Anthony, a tiny cog in this deadening machine, had no energy left for surprise. Simply standing here amid the smoke and heat was already pushing his limits.
The sudden clang of a spatula against the grill pierced the noisy dark, startling him into shedding a few hot tears.
But just as Anthony weaved through the crowd like a fish, his rational mind didn't have time for sentiment.
He roughly stuffed the dirty towel into his pocket, squinted, and focused on flipping the skewers in his hands.
For most, the late-night yakiniku spot was an absurd escape from life's trivialities. But for him and Richard, these two fools, it was the only way to fill their bellies.
Another busy night passed. The morning breeze swept through the yakiniku stall, heavy with complex smells.
Exhausted, Anthony collapsed into a chair. A pile of things still needed clearing on the table, but he couldn't bring himself to move.
Thump.
This time, Richard didn't yell at him to get back to work. Instead, he placed two bowls of leftover oden in front of Anthony.
"Stop complaining. It's better than cleaning garbage out of sewers last time. At least this job keeps us from starving."
Leaning back in his chair, Anthony felt so weary he thought the sweat-soaked towel had turned into iron chains, weighing his head down.
"Why do I feel those uncles have a richer nightlife than I do... Wasn't I the head of the European branch's Japan division before?"
He scooped up a piece of daikon with his chopsticks, muttering complaints between bites.
"Don't envy their nightlife. If they were doing well, they wouldn't be here either. This is the best we've had in months. Be grateful."
Richard pulled out the gold-rimmed glasses he'd kept in his pocket all night and wiped them.
The delicate frames were wrapped layer upon layer with yellowing tape, even more conspicuous than the faded gold.
"Yeah... months."
Anthony mumbled around a mouthful of daikon, using his chopsticks like a fork to stab at the vegetable.
He lifted it, took a bite, but his chewing grew slower and slower. Finally, after finishing the daikon, he slapped his chopsticks down on the table.
"Wait! Didn't you say the guys from headquarters would hunt us down for what happened?!"
Several months had passed since they left the branch with light packs.
They'd been using their IDs while working odd jobs—if headquarters really wanted to find them, they would have by now.
His family had connections in the council, real political clout. If the elders intervened, this whole mess might just disappear.
Seeing Anthony finally catching on, Richard nervously wiped his face, pretending it was just work sweat.
At first, he had no idea about Anthony's family background. That's why he'd been so desperate to drag this guy out of the branch, wandering like rats, taking odd jobs to survive.
But one day, after they'd pawned something, Anthony casually mentioned his family history.
That's when Richard realized he'd been completely wrong.
But still... it was too late to turn back.
If they ran to Anthony's family for protection now, Anthony would be fine. But Richard, the supposed instigator who led their young master astray? That would be a different story.
Richard had long since shut the door on seeking help from Anthony's family.
"They just don't have the mind to spare for us right now."
He put his glasses back on, his face filled with a stubborn determination to survive.
"Once this busy period passes for them, they might come after us."
"So while everything's still up in the air, we keep our heads down. Only when they've completely forgotten about us can we return to Europe."
He glanced at Anthony, who was clearly still confused.
"Think of it as a few months of physical training. Healthier than being cooped up in the office all day, right?"
Anthony let out a long sigh.
Over these months, he'd long since delegated thinking to his external brain—or rather, he'd been doing that for a long time.
If his brain had made this judgment, what else could he do?
Having already worked odd jobs for months, he didn't mind continuing a while longer.
At least during this time, he only had to worry about what to eat tomorrow, not about what new schemes awaited him back home.
Just as Anthony was about to dismiss this complaint like the countless others over the past months, the bell at the door chimed, signaling the newspaper delivery.
Thinking of how he'd been scrambling for food and hadn't caught up on outside news in ages, Richard stood up, planning to skim the yakiniku shop owner's paper.
Anthony felt a bit uneasy. His reason was simpler: he just wanted something to read while eating his oden.
When the two pushed open the wooden door, parted the curtain, and stepped into the street, Richard bent to pick up the day's paper.
Then Anthony noticed his good friend had suddenly frozen.
"What's wrong? Did headquarters finally remember to look for us? Are we in the missing persons column?!"
Anxious, he peered over Richard's shoulder at the newspaper. And when Anthony saw the headline, he froze just like Richard.
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.