Chapter 616: Just a random talk between two me

He looked directly at Amon. "Didn’t you suffer?"

His voice became quieter with heavy guilt. "Even if you became stronger... even if you found people you care about... that doesn’t change the fact that you nearly died because of me."

Amon raised his mug and took another drink.

Gulp.

"Ahh..."

He lowered the mug with a small smile. "Worry yourself not. I am not so easily frightened of the death."

Arnold chuckled at his reply. "Are you ?"

Amon raised an eyebrow as why the bastard laughing at him.

"I remember the look of you on your first day in the academy. Screaming like a stuck pig, pissing yourself and running from a projection cast by professor Aria." Arnold smirked, "And you claim you fear no death?"

Amon’s expression froze as his cheeks grew warmer. Whether it was embarrassment or the alcohol, even he wasn’t sure.

"That..." He cleared his throat. "That was me running away because I wanted to survive."

He straightened his back proudly. "But if death comes knocking regardless..." His gaze hardened, turning cold as flint. "Then let it come. I’ll not tremble."

Arnold smiled. "You really are unique... and maybe even kind."

Amon blinked at those compliments. He was unique, he was handsome and also amazing, but kind? Nope, he was not. "Kind?"

"Yeah."

Arnold leaned back in his chair. "You’re friendly, you’re willing to help others, and somehow, you’ve gathered so many people around you who come from noble families. A trick I could never manage with all my blood and gold." He paused, his jaw tightening. "And there is that girl, Seraphina, who looks at you as though you hung the stars."

Amon’s expression softened slightly at the mention of her.

"And if memory serves," Arnold muttered, hesitation bleeding into his words, "there is another... a woman who gave you her heart upon that dangerous island."

Amon choked, a spray of ale catching in his throat. "Well... that much is true enough."

Arnold laughed before his expression gradually became calmer.

"But seriously... you are merciful, I guess. After seeing how easily you forgave me, I can’t help but think that."

Amon looked down at his mug.

"Me? Kind? And when, exactly, did I grant you forgiveness, you bastard?"

He shook his head. "So why do you consider me kind? I’m not, to be honest and besides, I expect compensation from you for everything you’ve put me through so far."

He pointed his mug at Arnold. "When this bloody business is done, I want a good amount of money."

"Of course I will give it to you, kind Amon."

Amon went silent. He stared at the ale inside his wooden mug for several seconds. The noisy tavern suddenly seemed distant.

"You know..." His voice became quieter. "I’ve seen a lot of people die."

He paused. "My parents." His fingers tightened slightly around the mug. "The people from the village where I grew up."

His gaze remained fixed on the drink. "And later, when I was living alone in the city..."

Amon’s expression became distant. " At that time a man must eat or die. I put a knife into the bellies of a pair of drunken thieves simply to keep a roof over my head for another moon."

He took a slow breath.

"Then..." A faint smile appeared on his face.

"I met someone who took me in and saved me. They gave me bread and a blanket. Now, when I look back at the deaths of the people I knew, I mourn them, aye. It hurts. But it does not drag me down to rot in the mud, into some depression."

He slowly raised his mug. "For me, death was never the final words."

"Then what is it?"

"The end of this life..." Amon smiled faintly. "...but the beginning of another one. Maybe under the same sky, or perhaps in another. Somewhere far beyond."

He took another slow sip. "I only pray the next one tastes sweeter for them."

As a reincarnated person himself, Amon genuinely believed in those words.

Arnold stared at him for a moment. "That’s a good belief to have... it is a wonder you did not shatter entirely, that you can sit here and laugh after walking through the fire, those nightmares."

Amon grinned. "My mother taught me to squeeze every drop of happiness from the cup while it was still full. She used to tell me to enjoy it to the fullest when I was a boy."

He shrugged. "So that is what I do. If the butcher comes for my head tomorrow, he’ll find me with a big smile."

"Oh? You’ll enjoy yourself even while facing death?"

"Yup." Amon grinned. "Even my death will be one where I’m smiling. Hehe~"

"You have the mind of a madman, Amon."

"So be it." Amon took another drink. "At least I’m better than you. You’re obsessed with power. When was the last time you actually felt happy?"

Arnold fell silent.

"I..."

He looked down at his drink.

"I don’t remember."

He sighed. "Years ago, perhaps. Or perhaps not until the system took hold of me. I recall the first trial I broke, the power I got as reward.. that was likely the last time."

Amon clicked his tongue. "Bastard. You’re definitely going to suffer more than me in the future."

"Your mouth sure is foul."

"Yup."

Amon nodded without hesitation. "You’re the one who spends your entire life looking toward the future. Worrying about what might happen and thinking about it every single day."

"That’s what everyone should do."

"Not really."

Amon leaned back in his chair. "Why worry about a future that hasn’t happened yet? And why grieve over something that already happened and can’t be changed?"

He raised his mug. "Just focus on the dirt beneath your boot, the smell spread around you in air... live in present and do what you need to do."

He took a sip and smiled. "Like me. I’m enjoying this moment, drinking ale and having a good conversation and listening to your whine." He glanced at Arnold. "That’s fun enough for me. While you’re too serious, bland protagonist of your own life.

Arnold’s lips twitched at the last remark. He took a sip of his ale. "Hah... I guess you’re right."

A small smile appeared on his lips. "Maybe I should focus more on the present... and try to enjoy the little things."

Amon immediately stood up. "Look at you, slacking off. We still have an investigation to do."

He stretched his arms. "Now, let’s go talk to some drunkards in the village." Amon looked toward the tavern around them. "Tch. I almost forgot why we came here in the first place."

Arnold’s grip tightened around his wooden mug. He really wanted to throw it at Amon.