Not being selected into The Griffin Division is itself an utter failure, let alone me, whose strength has been drastically weakened to the point where I can't even stay in the military district. Can I truly say that I don't care?
I only don't want to shed tears in front of my comrades. My persistence is just to leave with a bit of dignity; I don't need pity or sympathy. I don't say anything, because for a failure, everything said is wrong. I can only rest, heal, and return to A Level strength before joining The Griffin Division!
But reality is cruel, and my body's real issues are something I have to face. To say I don't feel sad would be a lie.
Returning to Summit City, I came out at night to drink in a bar, immersing myself in the chaos of the heavy metal music and the swaying crowd of the dance floor.
Sitting on a barstool, I drank one strong drink after another. Before long, a flamboyant woman came over and struck up a conversation, "Not going to buy me a drink?"
I acted as if I didn't hear. The woman sized up my towering figure of nearly six foot three, with sharp masculine features. Especially in my eyes, there was a resolute and sharp presence that was undeniably manly.
This kind of mature and steady aura is what women at nightspots like most. Only women who lack a sense of security search for a haven in such places. This woman was clearly somewhat interested in Tobby.
"Give him a whiskey, it's on me," the woman said to the bartender, gesturing with her finger.
When the whiskey was placed on the counter, the woman seemed to slip a pill into it and smiled slightly at me, "I'll treat you then."
"I'm a bit drunk, but my mind's still clear." I gave a cold sneer as I looked at her actions before snapping, "Get lost."
The woman huffed in annoyance and walked away.
After I drank several more glasses, many of my unhappy emotions were gradually forgotten under the influence of alcohol, and I slowly lost consciousness.
When it was nearly closing time at the bar, a staff member came over and nudged him, "Sir... Sir? Wake up."
The pile of empty bottles on the table where he was lying indicated that he'd drunk himself into a stupor! There was no way to wake him up, so the staff had two bouncers come over to support him, while one searched his contacts on his phone.
The contacts list was simple, with just a few names.
At the top of the list was a number labeled "Wife." The staff dialed it directly.
The phone rang on the other end for a long time, and for some reason, the first call was not answered, prompting the staff to dial again. After a long wait, someone finally picked up.
A very ethereal and melodious feminine voice came through, though her tone was cold, her voice was truly gentle and pleasant.
"Hello?"
The staff hesitated for a moment before saying, "May I ask if this is the owner's wife? The gentleman here is drunk at our establishment, and he's unresponsive no matter what we try."
The phone went silent for a moment.
"You have the wrong number," the voice on the other end replied.
"But..." The staff member looked again at the phone contact label and said, "But this number is saved as 'Wife,' I apologize if it's incorrect."
The phone line fell silent again.
Bloom Entertainment Inc.
Emily Thomas, a stylish woman in a long gown, with her hair cascading in waves, exuding intellectual and rose-like allure, was attending the company's annual gala. A national idol, she stunned audiences with her breathtaking beauty upon debut, mesmerizing everyone. Later, she dominated the film, music, and television industry, capturing more and more fans with her talent, becoming one of the era's most famous stars. Her mixed Veridian and Aethel heritage bestowed her an enigmatic nobility, leading fans to lovingly title her the Blue-Eyed Princess. Yet, she chose to develop her career in Veridian, going by her stage name, Emily Thomas.
Initially, she was indifferent to Tobby Curry's call, but after hearing the staff's explanation, she hesitated briefly. Just when the staff was about to hang up, she coldly asked, "Where is your store?"
"Uh." Caught off guard by her sudden question after a long silence, the staff quickly replied, "At 81 West Street, 'The Usual Place' bar."
The call ended abruptly, leaving the staff feeling perplexed about the strange woman.
Emily Thomas hung up and hesitated before turning to her assistant, who was socializing with guests in the corner, "Get the car ready, I'm going somewhere."
The assistant nodded, excused herself, and took the car keys from her bag. Emily Thomas left the party midway and got into her RV.
"To 81 West Street, 'The Usual Place' bar."
The assistant nodded, started the car, and while driving, she jokingly said, "Thomas, lots of newcomers at the company want to seek your advice, and you're leaving so early?"
"It's boring. Aren't there plenty of such parties usually?" Emily Thomas responded, gazing at the night view along Crimson Riverfront outside the car window.
"Thomas, heading to a bar this late?"
Emily Thomas remained silent, quietly watching outside. Her long eyelashes stayed still, making her appear as a serene and graceful woman. Regardless of being seated in any corner, her otherworldly aura and beauty were too prominent to ignore, whether in life or work. She silently embraced her own beauty.
Upon reaching 81 West Street, outside 'The Usual Place', Emily Thomas, being a public figure, felt it inconvenient to show her face, so she turned to her assistant, "John, go inside and help a man named Tobby Curry to the car."
John was a bit surprised but did as instructed and hurried into the bar.
Moments later, she painstakingly supported the unconscious, drunken Tobby Curry, who was staggering and difficult to manage due to his large, unwieldy frame. Eventually, Emily Thomas personally helped get him into the RV and laid him on the sofa.
"Take us to my apartment."
"Thomas, you never bring men to your apartment," John expressed concern.
"Go," Emily didn't want to repeat herself.
John could only start the car. On the road, she couldn't help but ask, "Who is he? I've never seen him before."
"He's my husband," Emily glanced at the drunken Tobby Curry and calmly said, "in name only."
"Husband?" John's eyes widened, "Thomas, aren't you supposed to be unmarried?"
Emily replied, "A betrothal I couldn't refuse. We've been married for three years, but we've never lived together, and to us, it's as if we don't exist."
John was utterly shocked. Seeing Emily was only in her early twenties, having been her assistant since her debut three years ago, she never heard she was married!
If the media or her fans found out, it could ruin everything, especially in showbiz where female stars rely on their youth and dread aging out of popularity. As an assistant, she was incredibly worried.
Emily understood her assistant's concerns and said, "Adam't worry, having kept it secret for three years, it can continue. If it gets out, there's nothing more to be done. We indeed have a certificate, but it's only a title, with neither emotion nor marital relations."