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DATE:12th of May, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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I woke up with my tongue feeling irritated. Could I have been allergic to one of the wines from yesterday? Or was it perhaps an omen?
I certainly dreaded my date tonight. While Ulkip was still being celebrated for his efforts from yesterday, I had to look up restaurants in the area. I thought about sabotaging this experience, but making her angry wouldn't help my situation at all. This made it even more stressful.
In the first place, I'd never seen Alice show a preference for any particular food, and asking her only confirmed this.
I suggested five restaurants with different styles, and she couldn't decide on anyone. Some would just choose at random at this point, and I was also of that opinion.
I etched Ventian letters with a marker on one side of five coins, then I shuffled them around before calling Alice to pick one. She got the "Al Vente" traditional restaurant. It served spaghetti.
Now with that part done, there was the other itinerary... Huuh, I liked it more when the prop department did these mundane tasks. At some point I just gave up and saved the location of the park where I stood with the Changeling.
Am I really in sound mind to waste half a day on this stupid date? Not at all. I was surprised my reservation for tonight was even approved. Restaurants in Cordon work on a one-week notice basis. Someone must have cancelled their booking last minute.
Until I had to leave, I practiced more with the nicotine pouches. I say nicotine, but I have no idea what is in them. Whatever the case, they were surprisingly effective. Or better said, I was wondrously resistant to their side effects. I used BT five times yesterday and about seven times while waiting for Alice to prepare, yet I didn't even feel light-headed.
Eventually, she decided to show up at my room.
She wore a knee-length dress in blush pink—delicate, flowing, the kind of thing that probably cost more than my weekly salary. For once, Alice had dressed up. I probably should have bought another shirt, but I couldn't be bothered.
I took her hand and, as a gentleman, let her drive to the restaurant. It's not like I couldn't drive, but Alice can't read maps for her own life.
For a 10km distance, we spent about an hour on the road—wrong lanes, missed turns, Alice speeding past exits while I pointed uselessly at signs. We eventually made our way to the restaurant.
The clerk at the entrance was pompous. Actually, everything looked expensive—polished marble, amber lighting, the kind of place where they bring you bottled water and charge you for breathing. Good thing I still had cash from my advance payment. Alice looked genuinely surprised I'd chosen somewhere this upscale. Perhaps out of her usual price bracket? Well, today was my treat.
The restaurant reeked of old money. Chandeliers, white tablecloths, classical piano muzak in the corner. Large windows overlooked a cobblestone street, and the air smelled like garlic and fresh basil—at least the food would be decent. Wine racks lined one wall, showcasing bottles older than me, probably. Classic Ventian art hung everywhere, the kind tourists take selfies with. The whole place screamed "refined luxury meets rustic charm," which really just meant overpriced pasta and waiters who judge your silverware technique.
Still, Alice's face lit up when we sat down, so I suppose the advance payment was buying me something useful after all.
Tourists see Ventia as just another vacation destination. It is in fact a former country now conquered by the Unified Kingdom, just like the Principality of Concord. My birthplace, for that matter. Ventia used to be an empire in ancient times, one that conquered most of the territories of the current Unified Kingdom. Such a revenge...
Our rustic culture is really popular. Our olives became a national treasure due to the refined oil we produced.
We had a table near one of those pieces of art.
I was addressed with 'domine' by the waiter—I remember it means sir. The Ventian language isn't really used anymore, besides by the old folk. Just like in Cordon, the state policy of 'the Unified alphabet' reformed the language system.
I speak Ventian and even for me, it is hard to actually use it. They say it was a much more poetic language than our modern alphabet, but who actually recites poetry?
Alice stared at the menu like it was a bomb she had to defuse. Forty different traditional dishes, and she acted like choosing wrong would kill her. What kind of mental disorder is this? OCD? ADHD? I don't understand her troubles. Came here for pasta, so just order the damn pasta.
It took her half an hour to decide and another hour for our food to arrive.
Mine was Spaghetti Aglio e Olio—garlic, olive oil, red pepper flakes, parmesan. Simple. Classic. My mother used to make this. Man, screw her.
Alice got lasagna. Layers of pasta, meat sauce, cheese—the kind that arrives bubbling and makes your mouth water despite yourself.
Of course, I enjoyed my food, but I didn't get to finish it.
At some point, a group of armed men rose from between the other guests and put on masks—desert demon shit, all horns and cracked faces. I knew them immediately. The Combine gang from the news. SuperiorWoman was so useless...
They moved fast. Synchronized. One from each corner of the room, cutting off the exits before most people even realized what was happening. Dark tactical gear, weapons half-hidden under their coats. The kind of operation that doesn't improvise.
The restaurant went silent. Silverware stopped clinking. Conversations died mid-sentence. Someone's wine glass tipped over, red spreading across white tablecloth.
I wanted to finish my pasta, but one of them pressed a gun to the back of my head.
Well, shit.
They wanted our money—the guests supposedly being rich people. That wasn't wrong, but most rich people pay by check. Doing a stick-up when they only have unwritten papers on them is kind of moronic from my perspective.
Alice gave me a look like she wanted to intervene. From my perspective, we were better off waiting for them to steal the registry and leave empty-handed.
She leaned to my ear and whispered her intent to fight them.
"Shouldn't we wait for the heroes?"
"We are the heroes, Will."
Damn. Guess I lost this one.
"So what's the plan?"
Alice explained she'd increase the gravity for the gangsters while I disarmed them. Not bad, except there were about thirty of them. Could Alice even discern between so many targets and the guests?
Guess it was her fault if we failed.
Her signal was a foot tap. We went into action.
The gravity was massive—judging by how the floor rippled under the gangsters' feet. I activated my ability.
Some of them were preparing to shoot, so I went in order of danger. First the ones with guns raised—I struck their necks with my fist to make them drop their weapons. Threw those at the less crowded piano area.
The ones with guns pointed down, I jumped and kicked their hands until they let go, then did the same with the weapons. I also gave every gangster a few kicks to the groin to make sure they stayed down.
It was difficult to juggle between all of them, especially because they weren't that much slower under the mini BT. My lungs were burning.
Amazingly, I put about twenty of them on the ground before I lost my breath and time snapped back to normal.
Ten still standing. One of them stood at the center—taller than the others, mask more elaborate. Jagged horns, cracked surface like sun-scorched rock. Black leather jacket over tactical vest.
He hadn't moved during my whole performance. Just watched.
That was a problem.
I didn't even bother getting close to him. He was way out of my league.
He stood between his fallen grunts and asked:
"What hero do we owe the pleasure of?"
"No one."
I recovered my stamina, breathed in once more, activated—
In a flash, his fist connected with my face. Couldn't dodge it. Couldn't even raise my arms in time. He knocked me off my feet.
Useless to hold my breath while airborne, so I let go. His force planted me into a wall. Paint cracked and fell on my head.
I don't know who this was, but he was certainly an elite.
Alice tried to increase his gravity even more. If five times was useless, ten barely made a difference. He walked forward, undeterred.
I grabbed one of the machine guns and fired a full magazine under BT. The bullets pierced his body—he visibly winced—but the boss kept coming. Ran right through my bullets and hit my jaw with a kick that lifted me into the ceiling.
My back really doesn't like this date.
Alice jumped through the room with her quasi-flight to fight him herself.
What secret identity? This whole situation was so sloppy...
She was faster than the beast, but he was even more powerful. I stayed there, groaning in pain for a minute, before I realized that her diverted attention meant that the grunts were starting to recover.
I was reinforced by the guards of the restaurant and some quick-response militia patrols, but it was still tough. Each of these gangsters had years of experience, and it was hard to avoid the fleeing guests they started taking as hostages.
I had to put my all into subduing them, using all kinds of forbidden fighting moves like seiken punches and roundhouse kicks to the solar plexus, groin kicks... It's not like the grunts were any more honorable. I had to save a militiaman who was choking while another gangster was playing sandbag with his chest to accelerate his asphyxiation. They had blades, and I avoided fighting those. Better for another soldier to 'die like a hero'.
Looking back, Alice was struggling with the boss. I could see quite a few bruises on her body. I took one of the blades and went on to help 'Lilliam'.
When the boss was distracted, I activated my mini BT and lunged my blade into his Achilles tendon. No matter how powerful, he was still a human.
He tried to grab me, but I was faster and dodged. Alice used this opportunity to give him a kick to the temple, making the boss stumble to the ground.
I distracted him again by feinting a stab to his leg, but he turned in time to give me a slap I blocked with both hands. Still made me fall backwards, but that gave Alice the chance for a finishing strike to the temple. The brute dropped.
Not a minute later, we were approached by Blazer, filling the room in red, fiery light.
He came with other heroes from UltraMan's league, and we had to report what happened.
Apparently this brute was just a lieutenant of the Combine Gang, currently trying to get funds for some special project. Just a lieutenant? What the hell are modern villains made out of? In my day, they were common people oppressed by society... How things have changed.
Alice and I changed our ripped clothes for some baggy ones I got from the heroes. She was pretty disappointed about not getting dessert, despite what happened. I suggested taking a walk through the alleys in those flip-flops to ease her mind.
It was surprisingly relaxing. My body still hurt all over, but for once Alice was quiet. She seemed to like these quiet occasions—she grabbed my hand at some point while still silent.
We got to a 24/7 store called 'Timble' and I bought her ice cream before heading to the park. It was quite nice.
The park wasn't as empty as before, but the rich residents of Cordon aren't rowdy like I'm used to. Mostly pet owners walking their "treasures."
We sat on a bench. Due to how chilly it got, Alice glued herself to my arm. For once, I didn't dislike it.
Oh, how much of a difference being quiet makes.
Now for the finishing touches! At about 12 o'clock I pulled her in for a kiss before suggesting we stroll back to the car as it was pretty windy.
We parted ways at the dorm as my body hurt... A lot. I wouldn't be able to take on both the brute and Alice's bullish stamina in the same night.
That night I found myself back in the void.