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Shambala Sect 45


Breaths turned almost as silvery as the fog began to bit by bit freeze everything it made contact with, including the water surface of the ice dumpster; the wind and water together chilled people's bodies, not leaving any spots warm—not even the hairy ones. Colder than the cold before dawn, the scenery for those who could see it and feel it was both beautiful and blood-curdling.
Lost in the fog, most men suffered a similar fate—thrashed to the hilt, for Hardy Brothers took them out like snakes do frogs in a murky pond. Those who sensed the movements of Hardy Brothers in advance either tried to make a break for it or played possum, but none showed the will to fight back, or so it seemed.
Somewhere in the ice dumpster, hidden from the eyes of the audience by fog, two people were having a go at it, and the fog's density around those two was quite low as compared to their surroundings to the point it could be called mist.
“You filthy casual... I’ve seen enough of your kicks. Now, have a taste of death through my fist!” Centry shot his disquieting and malaise-packed fist down toward Sariyu. “Third Batch of Five—Temper Fist!”
His fist murmured through the mist and froze the water particles in the air around it as it zoomed in and thrashed her foot. Both the rock-like fist and rubber-like foot collided with power and puissance as none showed any clement sentiment.
Sariyu’s nails froze upon impact, which made her wince and pull back her right foot at full tilt. Making use of the opportunity, Centry closed in and got within her arms reach and attempted to bind her in his arms but got kneed in nuts instead.
Clutching his crotch, Centry crumbled to his knees, his blood-filled eyes louring up at her in an obtrusive gaze. “You... How could you...” For the nonce, all blood left his face—except for the eyes—and concentrated at a particular spot on his body where it was needed the most.
Sariyu stared down at him with eyes that showed some concern. “I know it hurts a lot, but I don’t know how bad it hurts.” She remembered Lirzod once. “My buddy said that, for men, no pain is as true as the pain in the nuts. So I don’t like doing that to men, to be honest, but you’ve left me no choice, big brother.” She lifted her leg slowly, “Take this as a return gift for what you’ve done to my nails.” A stomp in Centry’s face shoved him backward and down into the water.  Afterward, her attention changed to her toenails that frozen fog enshrouded. “I hope they are going to be fine.”
Centry so badly wanted to grab her leg and sock her whole body to his left and right for as long as he could, but his hands were currently busy guarding his private region and seemed disinterested in doing anything else, despite his heart urging them to act. Still and all, he used his mouth to try and bite her heel yet ended up receiving a heel strike to his nose, which then bled.
Sariyu looked around and saw that both the fog and the water around her were a lot colder than before. Initially, when the fog had arisen out of nowhere, the water was at least warm according to her, but then the remarkably-cold fog kept on cooling the water. Even now, some parts of the ice dumpster had warm water, while other parts had cold water. It made no sense to Sariyu as to what was happening, but after battling Centry, she surmised that Hardy Brothers must have had something to do with the change. Just then, the image of Aziz flashed in her mind, making her sigh. “Looks like this test is far from being finished. Where did this Purple Grass go? I’m positive that he’s at least close by, but... I have no idea where exactly Nutheart is.” Cold and silvery breaths escaped out of her mouth as her figure faded into the mist. “I can only hope he’s not caught by that Brown Hill or by one of the brothers.”
A few minutes ago.
At the moment, Lirzod, who was standing between the brothers and Boksa, looked like a crocodile stuck between two hippos and an elephant in shallow waters. He didn't know what to do. If he were to move, all three would react, and he didn't want that to happen. Without a shred of doubt, escaping seemed much more difficult now than when Boksa alone was after him; however, Lirzod cleared his throat and bellowed, “I give five seconds for the three of you as well. If you are still before my eyes by that time, then...”
“Hoh, what are you going to do?” the three of them asked at the same time.
Lirzod fleetingly squinted his eyes before relaxing them again. “Trust me, you mannerless wolves, none of you want to get your nuts nurtured by me.”  Humor-filled words carried by an unhumorous voice came across their ears like a discordant ditty. For a second, he gave off the impression of being bound and determined as his gaze undeviatingly drilled into the depths of the eyes of the two brothers.
“It’s the opposite, little fish!” Divas snorted, eyes flickering with vanity. “We destroy what we dislike. But before that, show us whatever that you said you would. We will thoroughly cripple that confidence of yours first before moving on to preparing the main dish—the frying of a little fish.”
“As you wish,” Lirzod turned sideways so that both Boksa and the brothers could see a part of his face. "This is your chance to run," Lirzod said as he closed his eyes, puzzling the brothers and Boksa.
“Mm?” Fimbry raised his brows. “What is she doing?”
“It’s ‘he’ not ‘she,’” Divas said as his eyes scrutinized Lirzod's mien, “maybe he's concentrating?”
"Concentrate what? On breath? But I don't think he has might," Boksa, on the other hand, muttered under his breath, seemed somewhat untroubled, though irritation was ready to replace it any instant. Nevertheless, as long as Lirzod was in front of his eyes, he had no reason to hurry things.
Moments later, Lirzod opened his eyes at his own pace as partly-white breaths escaped through his nose.
“Have you finished your preparation?” Divas asked mockingly.
Lirzod, however, replied with a serene look on his face, “It wasn’t preparation... it was the end.”
“The end?” the three of them were a little startled.
“Yeah,” Lirzod tightened his stare and spoke in a slightly serious tone. “I just finished a ritual.”
“A ritual?” their startlement grew in intensity, for Lirzod’s words momentarily mystified the brothers.
“Yeah,” Lirzod continued, “Five seconds of silence for y'all that dislike me.”
All three of them were baffled to hear that. “Huh?”
Divas gnashed his teeth, "You dare troll us Hardy Brothers? Only those that have a death wish act this way."
“No. If words can weigh a ton, prayers can weigh much more. Now, you three can be at peace,” Lirzod replied with a slightly sad face. “I'm sure destiny is now ringing in your ears through my words, telling you that you can't become friends with Lirzod anymore.”
"Destiny can dance all it wants, but it's not gonna affect us in any way, shape, or form," Divas' gaze was as torpefying as gloom, “The one that will rest in peace first will not be us but you. If you didn’t piss in your pants by the end of this test, it just means your underwear is made out of a sponge.”
Lirzod covered his mouth in haste, trying to contain his laughter, but he failed in doing so for longer than a few moments. “Haha, I love that line. It further lights up that niggardly look on your face, though it’s still far away from that of Uncle Piggy.”
Boksa clenched his fists so hard that he almost burst a blood vessel, yet he didn't act.
“Laughing at our words like a clown..." Divas felt a bitter tang in the mouth, "You have no pride at all, do you? Heh, it was my mistake to expect a little etiquette from someone like you who probably came from some backwater clan that nobody knows.”
"Right, brother," Fimbry simpered, apparently pleased with his brother's words, thereby manifesting a complacent countenance on Divas' face.
“Pride?” Lirzod’s smile subsided a bit, but the redesigned one seemed more settled than before, “If pride could be exchanged for nuts, my belly would now be much bigger than your three combined, and many people from my clan would have competed with me, too, and who knows, we might even have gotten forced to change our clan name to Big Bellies.” Though Lirzod’s words clearly hurt their pride, he simply  upped his shoulders a little as redness rose in cheeks, “But you are correct about one thing. I certainly am from a backwater clan, a clan whose pain only too few people in the world fret to comprehend, let alone feel compassionate toward. As for the rest, they don’t even care to know about us much less bother, except for when it comes to branding us as crazy people doing crazy things, always desperate to earn fame.
“I guess they wouldn’t know what being crazy truly means unless they lived our lives as members of a clan that crawls at the bottom of the beta rankings. I may be a rich guy in my town, but outside, I can see that I’m just another ordinary guy. I’m starting to know more and more about the world with every passing year. And I must say... being a low-ranking beta clan has its share of endless troubles that creep from all corners. Clans you believe are your allies invariably seek to make better use of your clan in any way they can. More often than not, trades will end up in a loss because of less payment received than when agreed upon, yet you are not in a position to do much about it. Even the neighboring towns that put up fake pleasantries are, in truth, solely looking for an opportunity to occupy your lands and further weaken you in every way possible and won’t ever stop until they either destroy you or swallow up all of your freedom and make your clan a bondclan[1].
“It’s these outsiders who are doing all these crazy things to us, yet they call us crazy people.” Frustration dwelled in Lirzod’s voice. “When I was a kid, I didn’t mind that much, but now, I feel like I have to do something to change that. So I was wondering... how would all those people react if I let them taste their own medicine in the pleasantest way possible? Like making all their young misses fall in love with me, preferably deeply, ahem, or something along those lines,” Lirzod shifted his brows up and down. “Would that change their views on clans weaker than themselves? Would that show them their wrongs? Though I’m a bit late in paying their favors back, which I don’t like, it’s still something I think is necessary to make them stop, even though it might end up impressing them if they are genuinely crazy. After all, crazy minds admire crazy actions. So, what do you two brothers think? Should I get crazier or not?” Lirzod's gaze darted at the brothers, but he didn’t get any reply as the brothers got a little lost in their thoughts. “What’s wrong? Did you two get constipation, or did cats take your tongues?”
“No, constipation fears our stomachs,” Divas was a tad bit late to reply, "but coming back to your crazy idea, forget about you…” He smiled a little. “Even with a hundred lifetimes in hand, I still can't make so many girls fall in love.” He narrowed his eyes while his mouth made a knowing grin, “You are not the only one that has a story to tell. Every soul that boarded this ship has its own share of burdening stories. Put ten different fish in a tank and come back a week later, and you would see only one fish still breathing—not necessarily the biggest, but definitely the one that knew when to eat, what to eat, and how to eat. Be it with fish, or with humans, it’s pretty much the same. After all, we all live in the same world.”
“Hmph, don’t talk as if you consider humans and animals are worth the same,” a too-quick smile took shape on Lirzod's face as his brows squeezed together, “would you brothers do the same if you five were locked in a room with no food?”
Divas' breath got stuck in the chest. "Well..."
“No, no,” Lirzod's head subtly swung from left to right and back, wetting his lips concurrently, “You brothers know each other, unlike the fish. So, let me rephrase it. Would you do the same if you were locked in a room with nine strangers and with no food?”
Divas felt a prickling in his scalp that dimmed the fierceness in his eyes, but he was quick in bringing back his composure and let out an impatient huff, “Geez, why am I bothering to answer your questions when everyone knows that—bickering is all that beta clans are good at?”
“God created animals,” Boksa voiced his mind, “because otherwise we humans would kill each other too often.”
“I didn’t ask you, uncle,” snorted Lirzod, irking Boksa. “And you didn’t answer my question either.”
“Listen,” Divas’ continued, “there’s no point in telling us your story, or, were you hinting that you acted crazily with us because of this reason you’ve spoken of?” Though Divas asked, Lirzod kept his mouth closed. “Well, whether or not that’s the case, we aren’t going to let you go unscathed after you picked a fight with us. You and that red-haired girl, both of you will wish you never met Hardy Brothers. We will make a good example out of you two so that the rest of the entries would paint their pants from the thought of crossing our paths.”
“Whoa, you guys are pretty scary,” Lirzod offered a fearful look, making his hands and legs shiver for a few moments before ultimately downcasting his eyes at his arms. “Mm? Wait, why aren’t my hairs standing? And there’s no paint on my paints either.” He raised his head and stared at the brothers in a puzzled semblance as if he sued them for failing to fulfill their commitment.
The brothers ground their teeth to an extent their jaws pained, and their faces turned peppery red with rage.
“That’s because your hairs are hot!” Fimbry almost spat his liver out from the roar. “And you probably took a clean dump this morning.”
“Huh?” Lirzod was befuddled.
“Fimbry, it’s ‘wet’ not ‘hot,’” Divas sighed.
“Right, right, brother,” Fimbry smacked the back of his head. “I got it wrong again.”
Divas narrowed his eyes as he looked at Lirzod. “Enough is enough. Give up, and we’ll just break a couple of your bones and be done with it. How does that sound?”
Lirzod paused a moment.
“A great offer if you ask me,” Divas said. “You better give me an answer before our third brother shows up. He’s not going to give you time like I do.”
Lirzod squinted his eyes. “Enough is enough. Give up, and I’ll just slap you brothers and that uncle a couple of times and be done with it. How does that sound?”
“You..” Redness took over Divas’ body from head to toe, and mist escaped out of his ears.
“You three pieces of shits...” Boksa, who had been watching all that, knitted his brows as his partly opened eyes closed. His face looked like he had a high fever. “I’ve had enough of ‘uncle’ for one day.” All the frustration built up in him gathered into his fists that had no eyes. Both his fists cannoned forth. “Call me Brown Hill!”
Lirzod scuttled toward the brothers, startling them as Boksa’s fists followed right behind him. Though Boksa had initially wished to let Lirzod have his fists, he made use of the opportunity to hammer two fists into the brothers’ chests, sending them sliding back for about three feet when they unintentionally ended up placing their hands on either shoulder of Lirzod who was in the middle of sneaking away.
Both the brothers somewhat frowned from pain before turning their heads toward Lirzod, whose beam had qualms. The brothers fully turned their bodies and picked him up before hastening away into the fog.
Boksa reacted immediately and chased after the brothers, but lots of fog kept gushing at his face, hindering his movements. As a result, he ended up running around aimlessly for the next few seconds only to realize that he had lost track of them. “UGGHHH!” he kept on slapping and stomping nonstop in frustration.
Lirzod, meanwhile, resembled a child as Fimbry and Divas carried him away. “Where are you two taking me?” Lirzod couldn’t help but ask with subtle traces of worry on his visage.
Hearing that, the brothers sneered and spoke with added strength in voice, “We are taking you to our brother, Centry. He’ll take real good care of you, so you behave like a good boy now.” As they spoke, a lot of tension lifted off of their faces.
“Centry?” Lirzod pondered a moment before continuing, “You mean the one who shrieked when Sariyu kicked him?”
The faces of the brothers discolored almost instantly, though they were quick to shove off all the discomfort and retort in a tone filled with aplomb. “Hmph! That was a fluke. She wouldn’t be able to scratch our brother again. Beyond any doubt, Brother Centry has probably taken care of her by now.”
“So the one I took care of is called Centry, huh...” a feminine voice came across their ears, breaking their speed. From the side, two silhouettes gradually turned into two familiar faces, Burton and Sariyu. “Straining my ears to hear in this fog is beginning to hurt my eardrums.”
“You...” Divas' forehead wrinkled as he gazed at her. “What are you doing here? Didn’t Third Brother take care of you?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” she recklessly waved her arm, telling them to leave. “Your brother is drowning right now. If you both don’t go and save him soon, he will for sure end up floating like a ballooned frog.”
Divas frowned deeply. Centry lost to her? I don’t believe it. After pausing a moment, another doubt sprouted in his mind. Wait, how were these two able to directly come to us?
Fimbry, however, seemed a little too worried. He turned his head toward Divas and promptly said, “We should go and gulp our brother quick!”
Divas inwardly sighed before replying in a somewhat stressed tone, “It’s ‘help’ not ‘gulp.’”
“Right, right, brother. Let’s go.”
“Easy, Fimbry,” Divas said, looking at Sariyu and Burton directly in the eye, backing it further with a poised grin. “We can’t trust their words, but instead, we must have some trust in our brother. First, let’s take care of these little fish quickly and gift their grilled selves to our brother.”
“Right, brother,” Fimbry replied in an enthusiastic tone.
“Let me down, and I’ll take care of those two for you,” the one whom both the brothers were holding on to spoke in a manner—a rumbling tone—that moderately mimicked the brothers' tone levels.
“Sure,” both the brothers involuntarily let him down, and though they realized their mistake right away, Burton and Sariyu reacted much more spontaneously and simultaneously launched kicks onto the brothers' chests, forcing them back and away from Lirzod even if it was only by a few inches, for the fog on their backs had cushioned the impact.
"Tsk," Sariyu cursed openly, "can't fight without the fog, can you?" Having fought Centry, she was somewhat aware of how good the brothers could make use of the fog.
"You can't expect much hardness from them just because they are called Hardy Brothers," Burton backed her words with a pricking expression, “Too disappointing.”
“Disappointing indeed,” Lirzod lightly shook his head. “Your grandparents are gobbing in their graves. Since it has come to this, I’ll leave you two brothers with two generous options. Either we will batter your bellies till your ancestors hear your cries, or you call us your great-grandpas. Oh, by the way, use 'grandma' for the girl.”
“Who’s a grandma!” Sariyu barked at Lirzod. “I don’t want to be called grandma!”
“You will be called a great-grandma, not ordinary grandma,” Lirzod confidently replied.
“That’s older than a grandma!”
“Old is gold, isn’t it?”
“I don’t care,” Sariyu howled. “I just don’t want either title!”
“Y-You don’t have to take them so literally. Old is gold is also not a literal equivalent, you know.”
“Not happening.”
“Then how about grand-grandma! Doesn’t it sound young and great?”
“It’s sounds both old and stupid!”
“Then how about…” Lirzod tried to reason with her by suggesting a few more names, but it didn’t seem to be of much use. Furthermore, he sensed that her knuckles would rap his scalp if he pursued much longer, so his attention changed back to the brothers. “Anyway, so what do the brothers have to say? Would you both be disrespectful enough toward your roots that you won’t let your ancestors sleep peacefully, or would you rather admit your mistake by honoring us three with titles next to your ancestors?”
The brothers' faces warped into warthogs upon hearing, what they felt like, a preposterous speech; however, not only did they not utter a word, but also didn't move an inch until the fog around the three youngsters intensified, giving the impression that the brothers slipped back and vanished into the freely-moving, smokey fog.
In a matter of seconds, the brothers erased all their traces as if they had become one with the fog.
The sudden silence brought a chill much colder than the quieting breaths of wind the youngsters blew. The three of them paused as fast as cats do upon sensing danger, their senses wholly focused on their surroundings, harkening for movement.
A whisper of the wind turned up on Sariyu’s right. She swiveled, lashed out aimlessly, felt her foot connect with brawny flesh, caught an ‘oomph’ muffled by fog which continued blowing at her face. Camouflaged by fog, a fist crunched into her jaw, staggering her back, and at the same time, through the corners of her eyes, she saw Fimbry’s smiling face, only for a brief moment before fog took over his place. A bruise, painful than it appeared to be, surfaced on her jaw.
Unlike Centry, who had aggressively attacked her for most of the time, these two brothers hid pretty well, plainly proving it how ugly they could make their opponents look in such a setting.
The three of them randomly and repeatedly got socked by what seemed like smoke, and even though their physical hurting wasn’t visible to the naked eye, one could still hear the clear beating of smoke against their flesh.
“These guys seem well-versed with grinding their opponents in this gloom of a fog,” Burton, with a frown on his face, murmured so that only their group of three could hear, “we should disappear from the eyes of these two before the rest of the brothers gather.”
“Leave it to me,” Lirzod said aloud, leaving the two to wonder when he put his hands to work and began to splash the water around in every direction, thereby throwing water in both the faces of Burton and Sariyu as well.
“What the hell are you doing?” Burton snapped in ire, "You idiot!"
“Look where you are throwing!” Sariyu clenched her fists, wanting to rap on the crown of Lirzod’s head but did her best to control herself.
“You two should have ducked!” Lirzod was quick to back his actions, further aggravating the two into baring their teeth.
“Haha,” Divas voice came across their ears, but they couldn’t make out his location. “Fighting among yourselves when you should be scared to death. It shows how foolish and inexperienced you three are! How about I blow all that foolishness from your faces?” Divas revealed his face behind Lirzod, who swiftly reacted and splashed water to his behind. Divas’ face momentarily disappeared into the fog, came out again, this time with a nasty grin on his face. “Real men don’t splash the water around. Real men dare to drown each other to death!”
The fog weighted Lirzod down as Divas neared, greeting the boy with a gruesome knee in the chest, lifting Lirzod off his feet, a bit of blood and saliva squirted out of his mouth and sullied Divas’ dress.
Lirzod’s chest bounced off the knee, and his whole body went down into the waters behind. Sariyu and Burton ran in to attack Divas, who curled in as if he attempted to touch his toes when Fimbry rolled over his back and concurrently kicked Burton and Sariyu in their cross-arm blocks, driving them back.
Fimbry used the momentum to lunge at Lirzod—who was at the bed of the ice dumpster—and dove down and thumped Lirzod’s stomach with an energetic headbutt, taking all the breath out of the boy at once.
“Fourth Batch of Five—Dual Expelling Fist!” Divas sprang forth, unleashing fists into the faces of Burton and Sariyu, but they ended up banging into the cross-armed blocks again, which showed more resistance this time around. An explosion of air at the time of impact blew them both rearward with the fog driving them onward. Though the collision had blown some fog away, the brothers still controlled some of it.
At the same time, Fimbry, while he floated in the waters above Lirzod—who lay hurt at the bottom of the ice dumpster—he pulled back his fist, exposing the elbow to the outside for a second as both their eyes had locked. “Sixth Batch of Five—Bust Fist!”
Fimbry’s fist punched through the water and pounded Lirzod’s stomach, shaking him up as well as a bear’s paw could.
Tee-heeing to his heart’s content, Fimbry got back to his feet and joined his brother to combinedly feast their eyes upon the wretched state of the three youngsters, two of whom had blood dripping from the corners of their mouth except for the purple-haired youth. The brothers sniggered as the three got back together.
Sariyu’s arms twitched, whereas the skin on Lirzod’s stomach was on fire as they coldly glared at the brothers.
Despite the heaviness of the brothers’ physiques, their movements were good and flexible enough. To make matters graver, the water of the ice dumpster made it much easier for them to move around, with the fog strikingly supplementing their mobility while hindering that of the opponents.
Even with the three together, it seemed like taking care of two of them at a time proved much more difficult than it did outside the ice dumpster.
“What’s with that look?” Divas blew air through his nose as his gaze attempted to domineer over them. “Did the reality hit you hard enough that you can no longer hide your frustration?” He ground his teeth after raising his clenched fist to his shoulder. “For talking rubbish about our ancestors, you will be receiving a thousand times more pain than what you are experiencing now.”
The three remained silent, their noses and mouths went soundless, but their eyes still shot out a sense of swagger; however, the brothers perceived it as a conspicuous show in an attempt to impress and also possibly intimidate them.
“Went voiceless, too, huh…” Divas sighed as he glanced at his brother. “Seems like Hector’s Mist is a bit too much for these three to handle.”
“I didn’t expect anything different either, brother,” Fimbry replied and later looked down on the three youngsters. “You three from some backwater clan honestly thought you could change the future of Hardy Brothers?” Fimbry snickered and drummed his chest like a gorilla, attempting to teach a lesson to the kids for trying to taunt them. “That’s too funny that it's worth farting about.”
“It’s ‘laughing’ not ‘farting,’” Divas stated, his jaw tightening a little, "this coldness seems to be further corrupting your speech."
“Right, right, brother,” Fimbry rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.
“But what’s not at all funny was that you punks dared to snatch my prey when,” a full-mouthed voice came from within the fog, startling everyone after a massive silhouette turned into an eight-foot-tall figure that launched itself at the brothers like a tiger pouncing at fawns, “my butt is bigger than your future!”
Seeing that person over their shoulders, both the brothers’ faces turned black.
“Twin Hill Drill!” The rock-hard fists of Boksa battered both their backs and had a go at drilling into their spines, but in the end, just sent them flying over the three youngsters who were already in the process of running away.
“Mountain Roll!” With four quick rolls, Boksa closed the distance and caught Lirzod by his pants again. “Not so fast,” he got back to his feet and dipped Lirzod in and out of the water the way he had done before, albeit with increased barbarity. “You can’t escape until you quench my thirst, brat!” He violently shook his hand while keeping it underwater, trying to trouble Lirzod to his heart's content. Lots of bubbles formed all around in the vicinity of Boksa, lowering the transparency of the nearby waters for a short while.
As Burton and Sariyu swiveled toward Boksa, they both saw that Lirzod was no longer in Boksa’s hands, but what he held on to were his pants instead. Seeing that, they both turned in reverse and faded away into the fog.
At this point, as Boksa stared at Lirzod’s pants, his breathing deepened yet hardened. Furious at having allowed Lirzod to slip away, he grabbed the pants with both hands are tore them apart. “Damn you!” as the two halves of the pants flew into the air, Boksa hurried forth to his front.
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[1] Bondclan: A clan bonded to another clan or organization under an agreement. A bondclan is not necessarily a slave clan, but most people still view it as such.
Chapter Length: 5000+ words
Daily Dose: A son once asked his father as he brought coffee, “What does it take to win?” The father didn’t reply and was just reading the newspaper while sipping on the coffee now and then. The son asked once again, “Dad, did you hear? I asked you, what does it take to win?” Still, there was no reply, except for the slurping sound his father made. The son’s face lost a bit of color as his brows drew together, “For the third time I’m asking, what does it take to win?” Even so, the father said nothing. The son deeply frowned and turned away, but before he left the veranda, his father opened his mouth and uttered just two words, “Sufferance, Son.” The son stopped in his tracks, and as he comprehended the words, guilt took over his face. He pressed his lips and said, “Thanks, Dad.” He then started to walk away without looking back. “Also, sorry.” The father took a sip and faintly smiled while his eyes were still fixed on the newspaper. The son then ran into the house while shouting, “Mom, Dad’s reading an adult magazine!” Hearing those words, the father spilled all the coffee on the newspaper. “This little rascal! You sorry was meant for this, huh!”


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