EVERNA Arcel Raine's
New Friend
Arcel Raine wakes up in his cell at Adler von Bachmann Prison.
The first thing he felt was excruciating pain and aches running all over his body. Arcel groaned slowly, a deep injury from an error in the energy practice of yoga still afflicting him. But at least this pain is not too severe as almost dying.
“Ah, apparently you are already aware,” said a man's voice from behind Arcel's back.
Arcel did not look towards the source of the sound. He just grimaced.
Thinking Arcel did not recognize himself, the man who had just spoken inched before the red-haired young man. This time Arcel only recognized the handsome blond man in front of him.
“D-Dean... Vizier?” arcel said weakly.
“Wah, it turns out that either your memory is good or my appearance is rather conspicuous so that it is easy to recognize people,” Dean said with a smile and a grunt. “But it's okay, frankly I'm glad to see you're alive.”
“Lho, why is that? I ‘kan not who are you!”
“Indeed. But think about why we both got dragged into prison like this, and now I'm being made into a cell with you. In fact, as a street fighter I never had to deal with the authorities.”
“How can? Aren't you a street fighter not a recognized and legal profession in Centronia?”
“Indeed. At least, based on my experience, I only appeared in certain districts that are prone to fight, for example in the Entertainment District. But it turns out that in the last fight I didn't expect the Syndicate to go that far, by putting us in a prison full of cronies.”
“Yes, I do not really understand how political and legal intrigue works in this city, and the level of law enforcement in each district,” said Arcel. “But I ‘kan acted in a mission on behalf of the Agency. So, if it wasn't the Syndicate playing behind this, I wouldn't have been touched by the law in any district of Centronia. It could be even all over Archelia and all over the world.”
“Yes, but you're bound by all the Agency's rules and codes of conduct, whereas I'm a freelance agent and informant. We are not entirely free together. If we were really free, maybe we wouldn't be in this place. And what has taken away our freedom is none other than.”.
“Syndicate,” sahut Arcel and Dean together.
After that, there was silence.
Suddenly, the laughter of the two men exploded.
Whatever their adults, no matter how abundant the experience of the two men, both Arcel Raine and Dean Vizier certainly feel happy and entertained when they know the two turned out to be one-minded, in line. Although not enough to prove anything, at least the atmosphere in the concrete-walled cells is very thick so not boring.
After the explosion of their laughter subsided, Arcel again groaned in pain and the atmosphere returned to silence.
Sitting slightly bent in a somewhat relaxed manner on the edge of his steel bed, Dean resumed the conversation. “Well, at least I volunteered and recovered with my inner energy intake. Of course after you got first aid from the guy Arcapada at the clinic.”
Arcel frowned. “How did you know about my injury? Isn't the training I'm running completely secretive and secretive to outsiders of the Agency, let alone you?”
“That's because one of the prison guards who apparently was one of my partners with VOLSUNG Agency deliberately told me about your condition to myself and the members of Bloodfeast. He warned, if you die we excommunicado will lack support to survive from ‘court through fight’ Syndicate style later.”
“So that's why you helped me in time, yes,” Arcel sergeant, his tone was a little cynical and booed Dean's feelings. “For you to get a greater chance of sustaining life.”
“To be clear one of the reasons is so. And I have a very strong reason and more than just survival, ” Dean replied with his eyes closed.
“I want to help and help as many people as possible, from my own family, even to strangers who need help.”
“If you may know, are you upset with Cross, Faust, Onyx and Toxin for plunging you into this prison?”
“Yes, but they are not my friends,” Dean said. “Cross saved my life when I first competed in the MAUL Tournament, Martial Arts Ultimate League. I lost that semi-final and was dying. But Cross, my fellow fighter gave me first aid with so much strength that my life was saved. After that I never got in contact with him again, but I still remember having a debt of gratitude towards him.
And so, after I became famous, Cross called me and then met me with a Bloodfeast group I didn't know before. He asked for my help, but he didn't bring my debt to him. But even if I don't owe him anything, I choose to follow my conscience and still help him.”
“But does your family not mind?” ask Arcel. “Didn't you have an established business anyway?”
“Yes. My wife, Melinda Carter-Vizier is a former professional fighter like me, so she doesn't mind. He alone is enough to look after our two children, Wynn and Michael. As well as taking care of my business, the Vizier’s Pizzeria pizza restaurant.
Since the beginning of our meeting, Mel has understood that fighting is my way of life and all the risks. But I had to try to survive in order to go home to a family that desperately needed the role of a father. So I decided to help you out so that the chances of survival are greater. And I want to be your best friend.”
“Oh, so so it seems.” Arcel nodded, “Now I understand the situation. I'm really grateful to you, Dean. But does that mean I have a debt of gratitude to you?”
Dean shakes. “Having a tough friend like you is enough for me. I'm not interested in the calculation of debt and profit and loss. This is a battle strategy and I don't want to go lower than that.”
Arcel laughed weakly. “Oh, so it seems. It turns out you're very interesting, Dean, because you've been taking everything into account in the future in planning a life's journey. I should try that anyway.”
“Good for you, Arcel. I don't mind you following the path of my life, just don't you plow.”
“Of course not!”
The two men laughed. The preoccupation of finding friends with a line of thought is part of a world that perhaps only fellow fighters can understand who respect each other.
“Well, then it's your turn to talk,” Dean Vizier said. His style of sitting changed so leaning against the wall, as if he was ready to listen to a long story last night.
“Tell me about your origins and how you became a VOLSUNG agent. Because I see you're still a little awkward with high-tech devices. I think you're from outside Archelia. Your log is like a Lore, but it could be that you are not from an urban area, but rather a rural or a rather remote area.”
“Well, I am a newcomer to Hyperpolitan Centronia, but I come from a time and place you never expected, even from your wildest imagination.”
Blonde was surprised. “What do you mean?”
“I don't think you've read the history books of the Kingdom of Lore, the Land of Heroes in the Age of Magic. It's okay, I just told you my origins from the beginning. But it's a very long story.”
Dean Vizier snorted, then sat leaning against the wall, still on his bed. Still putting on an enthusiastic expression, he then said, “No problem, anyway I have time all night to listen to an exciting story, strange but real. Please, make me dumbfounded and gaped.”
Arcel who was still a little weak leaned back on his bed and started telling stories.
“I am from Lore, right at the transitional point between the Late Magic Age and the Machine Age. In fact, I am considered the originator of the Machine Age for having exterminated the Demon King, Mephistopheles when he overthrew Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life which was the center of the existence and glory of the Magic Age Everna.”
At the starting point of the story alone, Dean Vizier was already agape.