Work Text:
Another rainy night in Glitch city...
Art never liked the rain. It's not just because the raindrops would soak his beret drenched and drip onto his shiny bald head. From his experience, whenever the sky cries, something shitty haunts him sooner or later.
But what could he do? Blaming god about a rainy day is the stupidest thing ever. People must learn to adapt, no matter to a rainy day or an accident in life. That's the truth applied to everyone.
Still, our detective would not stop muttering before he had to go out on a rainy night.
"Damn Jesus, are you cutting an onion or something..."
"The train has arrived at, 46th, 46th lane..."
Art picked up his umbrella, put on his beret, and walked out of the cabin with the crowd.
It's risky to take public transportation late at night. But since Mr. Delay is on the blacklist of the taxi company, taking the train is still safer than walking home.
Lucky for him, there were no outlaws on that train. Being robbed is no joke in cursed places like Glitch City.
The station was just two blocks away from the city center, but this is not the area that Art was familiar with.
He came here to meet some old friends.
At the backside of an old building, you could see the only entrance to our destination, and a little metal signboard with the name on it.
"Welcome to Valhalla."
The gate was opened by a medium-height man in a dark trenchcoat. He took a plastic bag by the entrance, wrapped his umbrella with it, and put it inside the stand. It only took him less than a minute to complete the whole process.
He took off his beret, with his eyes glancing over the bar.
"Welcome to Valhalla! Sir! Ohh..."
The bartender gave the man a formal courtesy like she always does but stopped halfway after she saw the man's face and that shiny bald head.
The man's sight stopped at the bartender, with minimal expression on his face. Through his thick glasses, he began sizing the lady up like a scanner, using his professional detective eyes.
"..."
"Hmmm..."
The strange silence maintained for about half a minute before Jill finally broke the silence.
"Is...there a problem?"
"Your eyes look puffier than the last time I saw you. You haven't slept well these days, didn't you?"
"What?"
Jill was astonished by the detective's diagnosis as she stared at the man in complete confusion. But immediately after, she took out a little mirror from her pocket and anxiously examined both of the pouches with her finger.
"I can tell the difference, young lady. This is my sense of professionalism."
"Haaaaa......" The bartender put back her little mirror with a sigh and gave Art a little angry glance. "Please, no one would greet anyone by saying, 'Oh! You have a heavy eye bag, my friend.' This is weird..."
"My apologies."
Jokes aside, our Mr. detective was relieved to see Jill was still the same guy he knew.
"Long time no see." He gave the girl a smile as he approached the counter, grabbed a seat and sat down.
"So. What suits your stomach today? Big detective?"
"Beer... A small cup is enough."
"No better way to end a crAppy work day than a beer, right?" Jill giggled as she started mixing the ingredients together. No exaggeration, she could make a beer with her eyes blind-folded.
"There you go."
"Thank you, Jill."
Even though the ingredients are completely the same, beer can have thousands of tastes depending on how the bartenders add their own magic to the drink. Seems like Jill's beer was pretty much to Art's appetite.
The CO2 and the chilling liquid, could somehow make Art forgot about the shitty job business he experienced in the day.
"It's made of wood..." He muttered as he felt the surface of the table with his fingers.
Time carved the marks on the counter. Most of the surface was already smooth. That was the consequence of the touch from countless hands over the decades. The edge was also deliberately polished to avoid unnecessary collisions.
It was not just the table. The chairs, even the floor, were all made of oak wood, something that was rarely seen in the lounges at Jill's time.
"Interesting..." He turned to the double ponytail girl. "I like your new bar."
"Oh, you mean the new Valhalla?" The lady suddenly became more cheerful upon hearing Art's comment.
"This place is as old as my grandfather. It was meant to be torn down after the last owner ended the contract, but got saved after Boss bought the ownership."
The bar was located on the second floor of an old building, some ancient relic that existed even before the establishment of Glitch City. At that time, wood was still a common decoration material for lounges before log prices sky-rocketed. Surprisingly, this relic was only two-thirds the size of the original Valhalla, which was already small compared with the others. Four sofas and a six-seated counter, that's it. But thanks to the genius design of the architect, this rat hole doesn't really feel that tiny.
The yellowing lights and the crumpled leathers tell the history of this old relic. You can even see the former name of the bar on a little nameplate by the table, "The piper."
"At least this place smells better..."
"So why did Dana buy this ancient relic?"
"Well. Firstly, it was cheap." The bartender replied. " Smaller properties are easier and cheaper to manage. $5000 for an old bar, Can you believe this! That's what Boss told me about the deal."
"Secondly, Boss, she's nostalgic, to some extent..."
Jill sighed as she poured herself a glass of water to clear her throat.
"Boss was really caring to me after Valhalla closed down. I had no other job options apart from the ones in BTC. But none of them went well..."
"Life was a bit tough in those months. I know Boss can take care of herself well enough, and so do I. But Boss insisted on giving us a place to settle. Yet, I didn't expect she actually bought a new bar and completed all the decorations herself..."
"Yeah, that's more like her." Even Art would agree with this to be totally "Danaish."
"If Brian could make a negotiation, we should become a part of the BTC. We still need to pay some franchise fees, but it's much safer under their administration. And we could still use the code VA-11 HALL-A."
"Is Dana here?" The detective asked.
"She's inside. I can call her out if you want a word with her... Wait, she's here now."
From the metal door, our Red comet was taking a lazy yawn as she walked out, with her left hand holding a reaper-level spicy chicken leg.
"Wow! I did not expect you to be here, Big detective." Dana greeted Art with a smile.
"How did you know our new address? I mean, I haven't informed anyone apart from some of our very-close ones."
"Remember my job? In short, I found it myself. In details, using my relation network, particularly from those guys in BTC, I don't even need an hour to find out where you are." Art replied as he finished off his glass of beer.
"Hahaha! That was a classic answer from a detective."
Time seemed to slow down his pace in such a vintage bar. There are few places in Glitch city where you can open your heart to strangers. But Valhalla is an oasis for lone rangers like Art to settle down.
"One Piano Man..."
Cars had disappeared on the road down the bar, and the atmosphere has never been more quiet and peaceful in Valhalla.
But in such a calm atmosphere, Art felt a hole in his stomach.
"So, how was your work?"
She asked it...
Unwilling, though, Art knew he had to speak out the important words.
"Shitty..."
"I am just a fucking private detective. Why do I have to witness all these horrible deaths..."
He muttered as he put his hands on his face. Trying hard not to think about the images he saw in the last few days. But how could a man forget such shocking death with ease?
"Dear me..."
The gastric acid was flooding up to his esophagus. It felt like Art would vomit on the counter the next second, but eventually, he managed to hold back the sick.
"You okay..."
The bartender tried to comfort the upset detective but was interrupted by the rude opening of the door, from which a strong smell of perfume came through.
"Ah! the rat hole! Just like what I expected."
An annoying noise from an annoying man, an invader unwelcomed to the oasis.
More than reluctance, Jill normally would only serve the drink the man asked without giving off too many words, and politely asked him to leave if he said anything breaking her boundaries, as she actually did once in the past. There was no need to fear a fat hound who could not recognize himself. Just give them a hard kick when barking, and they will fuck off.
But today, the bartender would do her best to serve the pig. At least she would not flare up in front of the other customers. More importantly, that fat hound should behave a little better, knowing that Dana was still on duty.
"Good evening, mister Donavan. What can I serve you for tonight?"
"Hah! a nice greeting from the booty. Those bitches in my newspaper never know how to greet a man properly! Who the fuck do they think they are in front of their bossman."
He went through the bar like a german tank without a goddamn care about the world, grabbed a seat and laid his ass down, with complete ignorance of the customer right beside him.
Now Art faced another engaging and suffocating threat, a fat found with a lethal amount of cheap perfume that could make him vomit at any time. Honestly, a shot into his head is better than suffering from such an annoying hazard to the world, he thought...
Though they never met, Art already knew who that pig was. The complaints from media investors, rumors about cheating wives, blah blah blah, all about this very man, Donavan D. Johnson, the boss of Augmented eye.
"A large beer! Like always! I want you to mix that one with love, and put your faith into it, lady!"
"Roger...A large beer."
She put the drink in front of Donavan. Of course, no love in the glass, but no strange poison in it, either.
"Exactly what I needed!"
Half of that large glass of beer, disappeared within a minute into the stomach wormhole.
"I'm so disappointed!" The man started to grumble. "Those rookies I hired a week ago, none of them have balls! None of them! Even boobies! Just some lame asses and flat tits..."
"So... What's troubling you? Mr. Donovan."
"The goddamn interview, man! The interview!" He pointed his finger up.
"You know, the news is all about freshness. If the news is not NEW, how the hell would anyone give a shit about the report."
"We live in an extremely competitive environment, girl. Every newspaper wanna get the hottest first-hand interview, and dig out some shocking words from the party. Then you just need to add some more species, some magic. There you go! You get an excellent and intriguing report to publish! A report that can make your peers eat the dust. You understand what I mean?"
"Ummm..."
"It's the goddamn interview that matters the most! You can always add as many species as you want, but you need the main dish to feed your audience." The man rudely interrupted Jill before she could answer.
"But words don't come cheap! Those parties never give a damn useful word to the media. That's what separates a useless reporter from a useful one, the ability to lever their mouths and take their bottom heart words."
"Ughhhh...."
Just as the conversation became more like a sermon, the man poured another drink of beer into his tummy.
"Just yesterday. I told the two young men in my office to do an interview about the murder, and they returned with garbage..."
"Murder?" That word triggered Jill's curiosity.
"What? You haven't heard about that, girl? The appalling murders across the city?"
"Not really..."
"Everyone was talking about that shit! I guarantee it won't take long to cause enough panic in the city. But anyway, I asked those rookies to get me some impacting information about the kill. I don't care who you interview, the police or whatever. Just give me some hot spots that could blow up."
"They left, and they came back at night with a bunch of notes. I read them, and it was just garbage, none useful."
"'Oh, we can't get into the scene, sir! The police stopped us from entering, so we just interviewed some other eyewitnesses...' What the SHIT were they thinking! How were they so useless that they couldn't even get into the fucking scene! I could do that all myself when I was 20!"
The man screamed as he slammed the table, with saliva flying around. That's something you would only see in a quarrel, not in a bar at least.
"Please calm down, sir. You may scare the other customers..."
"I know! I just can't control my emotion thinking about this. Damn it, I think I got a headache..."
Thanks to the headache, the angry man eventually sat down with his frown locked.
"Useless! Completely useless... I needed to go to the Criminal Investigation Headquarters the other day and ask those officers myself. Crap, that means I have to cancel my trip to Neo-San Francisco..."
"Fantastic. Now Möller could laugh at me with his first-hand report. I was planning to get some chicks tonight after the drink, but now I aint feeling so."
Still complaining about life, the man stood up.
"I need to go now. Here's your $400. I'll just leave it on the counter. Hey, girl! I'll come back some day. I pretty much like this place..."
The foul smell of the perfume gradually faded away as the hound closed the gate.
You'd better never come back...
Still feeling awful about the man, Jill had to clean up the table and the glass. On the positive way, at least that pig gave $20 of tips, which was rare for a stingy guy like him. (A large beer is $380)
"I feel bad for those two young men..." The detective finally spoke up after 20 minutes of silence. "There's no way you could enter the crime scene without permission. I'm 100% sure that smartass will return with nothing from the police."
"Sorry to ruin your night because of that hound, big detective..." She apologized while putting the glass back in the closet.
"No need to apologize, Jill. I've seen something much worse than that man. I only wondered how that man found this place..."
"The funny thing is, he lived just one block from here. I don't know how he heard about our new location. He just came and became a regular once again." A deep sigh from the bartender. " I know he's annoying, but we can't ban him. At least he paid for every drink and did not cause any trouble enough for Dana to kick his ass."
"The pain of the service industry, yeah..."
"Do you need another drink? I can offer you a free one for compensation."
"It's OK. I think I also need to leave after a few minutes." The detective replied. "Talking about the murder, I have some information to tell you."
"Hmmm?"
"Because I was part of the authorized investigators of this very case. This case is not that simple..."
"What do you mean?" The girl raised her eyebrows with curiosity.
"Let me demonstrate."
He took a little notebook and a pen, then began drawing some sketches on the paper.
"Three kills, all young females in their 20s. The bodies were deserted at the garbage disposal station like it was unneeded. I took some pictures from... Never mind, I shouldn't show them to you. I can't give you a nightmare..."
"Why?"
The man was speechless as he could not find a word to describe the picture.
"It...It was outrageous, OK! All their internal organs were removed, and nothing was inside the chest and abdominal cavity."
The atmosphere suddenly became like a thriller film inside the bar.
"I can't tell you about the details cuz that's confidential. I just want to remind you to be careful. If you see someone suspicious following you, don't hesitate. Just run as fast as you can."
"I need to leave. Please take care and stay safe, both of you. Just keep the change. I don't need it.
"I get it... I'll remind Dana about this later. Take care, Mr. Delay."
"Home sweet home..."
The detective took off his coat, and laid his important stuff one by one on the table. That was the habit he had kept for years.
Something is missing...
Wait a minute...
!!!
It was then Art realized that he had left his beret in Valhalla.
That's why I hate rainy days. Something shitty always happens...
Anyway. I'll pick that up some days later.
"What a day..."
He muttered as he closed the lamp by the bed.
"On second thought..."
"I kinda wonder what Dana would look like on my beret..."
Fin