There was no doubt that Lin was not coming for him, and Yoren was also surprised to see him in such a place.
"I have no particular reason for being here. Even we, the Hesse, wouldn't dare attack a major city in Colombia. Taking action in a place like this is basically suicide."
"So you're here for tourism?"
"You can interpret it however you want, but I warn you—if you think about reporting me to the military police for revenge, you'd better reconsider. The moment you do, the fact that you're infected will be exposed, and then everyone will have to flee Bra City like rats."
Yoren could see that Lin wasn't here for sightseeing. He might not be planning an attack, but he had his own reasons for being here.
Yoren smirked slightly, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"How do you know I'm afraid of being exposed? I'm a legally registered infected. I have a permit now, believe it or not."
"Do you think I'll fall for that lie?"
"You don't believe me?"
"You got infected in Ursus barely two months ago. And yet, you've already secured a residence permit in Colombia? Unless your father is the mayor of Bra, your permit is forged."
Yoren took another bite of roast goose, chewing slowly.
"Who knows? Maybe we should call the military police and have them verify it."
"You..."
At that moment, Ifrit's voice rang out from behind.
"Hey, why are you eating by yourself? Bring it over here!"
From Snowsant's perspective, she couldn't see Lin's face. Seeing Yoren sitting at the bar with a stranger, she called out with confusion.
"Big Windmill, is that man your friend?"
After a few exchanges with Lin, Yoren was no longer worried. The danger had passed.
He turned to Snowsant and the others. "Don't move, just sit tight. The food's coming soon."
Then, he waved at the fat boss. "Boss, another plate of roast goose for my friends' table. I'll eat this one here."
"Alright."
Now that he had run into Lin, Yoren had a lot he wanted to know. It was still three years before the riots in Che City. The "Integration Movement" led by Tallulah had yet to emerge. Mephisto, Faust, and the others were nowhere to be found. At this moment, the infected organization [Black Forest] held immense power. If Yoren ever needed to venture into the disaster zones for Originium, Black Forest would be an enemy he'd inevitably face.
A lot had happened since Mandel City, some of it completely beyond his knowledge.
"Lin, let's skip the formalities. Maybe we can have a real conversation."
"Fine."
Lin ordered another drink, pushing it toward Yoren.
Though Yoren wasn't much of a drinker, he pretended to take a sip. It just felt right in the moment.
Lin set down his glass and asked first, "Kid, as far as I know, you were just an ordinary guy before. How did you suddenly gain that terrifying power back in the building?"
"Hard to explain. Maybe I'm just different. But from that moment on, I made up my mind—I wouldn't be ordinary anymore."
Lin nodded slightly. "I believe your determination. Your hairstyle says it all."
"Damn it, my hair will grow back soon."
After a few exchanges, Yoren realized that Lin wasn't just a cold-blooded killer. As the atmosphere eased, he finally asked something weighing on his mind.
"Lin, after the catastrophe, all the Ursus troops should've been wiped out. Why did you still attack the Colombian army?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
"What do you mean?"
"Our target was never just the Ursus military. It's all the greedy bastards who profit from our suffering. Like wild cats drawn to the scent of blood, we'll make them pay. Every last one of them. No exceptions."
There was no common ground. Yoren could see it clearly now. They were too different. No matter what he said, Lin wouldn't understand.
The attack on the Colombian army must have been ordered by Theresis. That fanatic had probably incited the infected with his extremist ideals, pushing them into battle despite their already weakened state.
In some ways, Theresis was similar to Tallulah, but compared to her strategic foresight, Theresis was reckless—too blinded by hatred. No wonder Black Forest didn't exist three years later.
Then, Yoren's mind drifted to the only person he really knew in Hesse.
"Lin... what about Shuangyue? Is she alright?"
Lin's face darkened. "She's dead."
The night deepened, and the small restaurant filled with customers. Laughter and chatter echoed all around, yet in Yoren's world, there was only silence.
His heart stopped. His eyes widened.
Shuangyue... dead?
The woman who had been twisted by fate, who went to extremes to avenge her daughter. The same woman who, after learning that her child was still alive, defied the infected organization to let Yoren go—she was gone?
"Bang!"
Yoren slammed his glass onto the table and turned to Lin, his voice shaking.
"Don't lie to me. How could Shuangyue be dead?"
"I have no reason to lie. She died a month ago."
Something in Yoren snapped. He grabbed Lin's collar, his voice raw with desperation.
"Who killed her!?"
"No one."
"What?!"
"She died of oripathy. After more than ten years as an infected, she reached the end of her road."
Yoren stared at Lin, dazed. A deep, crushing powerlessness swallowed him whole.
Lin wasn't lying. Shuangyue had died from oripathy. That was the truth.
It was something Yoren had always ignored, the cruelest reality of their existence.
Anyone infected with Originium would die. Ifrit would die. Melantha would die. Saileach would die. He himself would die. No exceptions. That was reality.
Shuangyue had given birth to Frost Nova as an infected. More than ten years had passed since then. Without proper medical treatment, she had survived through sheer willpower—maybe through powerful arts, or maybe just through sheer hatred keeping her alive.
But that hatred had burned out in Mandel City. The moment she learned that Frost Nova was still alive, her reason for living shifted. And that new hope wasn't enough to sustain the life she had already overdrawn.
In the final battle against the Colombian army, the arts she cast had been the last embers of her existence. And with that, she left this world—clutching hope and regret.
Yoren let go of Lin, collapsing into his chair, lost in thought.
She had saved him. More than once.
He still remembered the despair in her eyes as she spoke of the past. The joy and uncertainty when she learned her daughter was alive.
The stronger a person is, the more fragile they become.
She had lived through love, hatred, despair, and hope. And now, she was gone.
A bitter laugh escaped him. His anger had nowhere to go. No one had killed Shuangyue. She had simply... died.
But if he had to blame someone, if he needed a target for his fury—he had one.
A hoarse voice came from behind Lin.
"Lin, who are you talking to?"
Yoren turned.
Their eyes met.
The world fell silent.
He knew this man.
His blood boiled. His fists clenched. His voice was low, seething.
"Theresis… I finally caught you."
If Hong Dao's actions were due to his different stance, then Yoren could barely classify him as an extremist who had been persecuted.
But Yoren no longer wanted to classify Theresis—he just wanted to tear his face apart.
Theresis had obviously just come in from outside, a roasted sweet potato in his hand. Maybe he and Hong Dao had agreed to meet here, or maybe they had come to this place together and, finding the sweet potatoes out of stock, Theresis had gone out to buy one himself.
Yoren no longer cared about the reason for the damn sweet potatoes. The moment he saw Theresis, his rationality snapped. There's a limit to how much logic a person can hold onto when faced with true anger. Some people remain composed because they have never been pushed far enough.
Yoren had never been that kind of person.
He had just learned of Frost Nova's death. Now, Theresis was standing right in front of him. His mind made the connection before he could stop himself.
Hearing Yoren's curse, Theresis froze. He stared at the bald young man in front of him, his expression shifting as if searching his memory.
Then he took a half step back, a flicker of panic crossing his face.
"It's you!"
Yoren shot up from the barstool.
"Yeah, it's me, you bastard."
Hong Dao rose with him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Kid, don't be impulsive. Have you already forgotten what I just told you? This is Columbia."
"I know it's Columbia!"
Yoren's fingers trembled with rage. He didn't even need to cut himself—his anger alone was enough to stir the dark power inside him. It was begging to be let out.
The bar owner finally noticed something was wrong.
"Hey, if you three wanna fight, take it outside. If you start something here, don't blame me when the military and police get involved."
Yoren wasn't planning on backing down. Hong Dao pushed down harder on his shoulder, trying to force him back into his seat, but Yoren didn't budge.
At one of the restaurant's tables, three men suddenly stood up. Some wore scarves, others sunglasses. More Black Sen members. This wasn't a large-scale attack, but anyone who could move alongside Theresis and Hong Dao had to be dangerous.
Snowsant and Ifrit noticed the shift in atmosphere.
With her mouth full of roast goose, Snowsant called out, "What's wrong? Did that guy mess with you?"
Ifrit stood up, rolling up her sleeves as she wobbled toward Theresis. He barely spared her a glance—too caught up in Yoren to care about a little girl.
Then, without warning, Ifrit raised her foot and kicked him hard in the ass.
Theresis lurched forward, nearly dropping his sweet potato. Spinning around, he snarled, "Who the hell are you? What's your problem?"
Ifrit crossed her arms. "You're so damn ugly, and yet you dare to show your face in front of my Lord Ifrit? You've offended me, you stinking bug! I should burn you to ashes right now—"
"Ifrit!" Yoren's voice was sharp.
"Huh?"
"This isn't your fight."
"What? But don't you want to beat these guys up? I can help!"
"You and Snowsant—go wait outside."
"Why—"
"Now."
Ifrit looked stunned, but Snowsant, hearing the steel in Yoren's voice, quickly grabbed her hand.
"Big Windmill, we'll wait outside. Just hurry up, okay?"
Strength is something everyone desires. When you're weak, you get trampled.
So, what do you do when you become strong?
It's simple.
Whether it's revenge, saving a friend, changing history, or ruling the world—it all comes down to one thing:
Doing what you damn well want to do.
Yoren knew his mission was to get Ifrit to Victoria safely. But fate had other plans. Fate was always throwing obstacles in his path.
Like right now.
Sure, he could unclench his fists, suppress his rage, walk out of the bar, and pretend none of this mattered. He could swallow his emotions, let rationality win, and ignore the fact that Frost Nova was dead.
He could submit to fate.
But then what was the point of fighting? What was the point of all the pain, all the suffering?
What was the point of the iron rod?
Yoren locked eyes with Theresis and laughed bitterly.
"Still got the nerve to eat roasted sweet potatoes, huh? You must be living real easy since Mandel City, Theresis."
Theresis's expression darkened. Lowering his voice, he said, "Kid, I don't want to deal with you right now. Exposing me does neither of us any favors. If you want to settle something, let's go outside the city and do it there."
Yoren tilted his head. "Oh? You calling Red Knife and Big Bob too? Or is it just you three against me? You still sore from the beating I gave you?"
"You can try me."
Yoren cracked his neck. "That's exactly what I intend to do."
"This is downtown. Get a grip."
Yoren grinned, sharp and wicked.
"Oh, rationality? If I were rational, I wouldn't be infected with oripathy. If I were rational, I wouldn't have run into that burning hell to save Ifrit. If I were rational, I wouldn't even be here. Rationality? Don't talk to me about rationality. I—Yoren—have none."
Hong Dao's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Kid, I'm warning you one last time—don't do anything stupid."
"Stupid things, huh?" Yoren chuckled.
Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it wasn't.
But it was necessary.
Yoren grabbed his wine glass off the bar, downed the drink in one go, and slammed the empty glass down.
His voice was ice when he spoke.
"I want a damn explanation for Frost Nova's death."
Theresis blinked, confused. "Frost Nova? What does her death have to do with me?"
"You used her from start to finish. You fed her hatred of ordinary people and used her strength for your own gain. Tell me, did you know her daughter was still alive?"
Theresis visibly recoiled. "Her daughter's alive? I didn't know!"
"Bullshit."
"I'm serious! Frost Nova died from oripathy. I ordered her to unleash a large-scale spell attack on the Colombian army—that's it! I didn't know she'd die doing it. She killed so many before she fell. Her death was worth it."
"Shut up."
Yoren had had enough. The rage boiling in him finally reached its breaking point.
He wrenched free of Hong Dao's grip and smashed the glass in his hand against Theresis's skull.
The impact sent blood and shards of glass flying.