Daniel walked toward his home, dusting off his pants and arms, still feeling the sting of the fall.
"Fking Jason, this Krin's goon always brings a backup," he muttered under his breath.
As he walked along the road, he noticed a makeshift barber's stall with no customers. A rough wooden table and a single chair sat before a tall mirror propped on a stand. Beside it rested a bucket of water, a wooden bowl floating lazily within.
He halted and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling the strands brush against his brow. "Hm… it's starting to fall into my eyes. I should cut it."
…
After his haircut, Daniel paid the barber a single copper coin and made his way home.
The barber was still stunned by the unusual request. Normally, men would simply walk in, sit down, and let him cut it short — each head ending up the same, cropped close like a soldier's.
But Daniel had wanted something different.
A fade-cut.
