158. Drunken Life and Dreams.
"I like stories."
Hearing Count Nefaria's words, Alex lifted his hood back to his neck and took a sip from the glass on the bar. He was very thirsty after the long journey.
With his eyes now on Count Nefaria, Alex took a good look at the old man who had fallen to such a state. Count Nefaria was hunched over, his body having shrunk significantly with age. His head was bald except for a few sparse white hairs on the sides. His gaunt, dry face was unkempt, with a scruffy beard still glistening with so alcohol.
He wore his old battle suit, but he was now too old to fill it out. The suit hung loosely on his shrunken fra, full of wrinkles.
"You like stories, huh? Good. When I tell others about these things, they secretly laugh at . I know they look down on , but they know nothing."
Count Nefaria's glazed eyes cleared a bit. He struggled to sit up straighter, adopting a more comfortable posture, and turned his head to look at Alex, curious about this young man interested in old glories.
"Tell . I'm quite interested," Alex said with a smile.
"It was a glorious battle. I personally ended those who called themselves 'heroes'."
Mumbling sothing unclear, Count Nefaria lifted his head and glanced at the other two hooded figures. "We were powerful and ruthless. Those heroes, those arrogant fools."
His cloudy eyes shifted slightly, and a strange energy seed to well up. Staring at one of the figures, Count Nefaria felt an inexplicable familiarity.
"Those... those..."
Breathing heavily, Count Nefaria felt dizzy. He shook his head vigorously, trying to clear his mind. Closing his eyes tightly and then reopening them, he saw, in his haze, a figure with silver hair smiling mockingly at him.
The old Count's hunched body trembled slightly. He rubbed his eyes frantically and strained to open them wider, trying to see more clearly.
"Those what?" Alex asked calmly.
"Those... that..."
Count Nefaria opened his mouth, wanting to say sothing, but no words ca out. In his vision, he really saw a silver-haired man, hidden under a hood.
"It's you? It's you!"
The glass shattered, and crimson liquor spilled everywhere. Count Nefaria stood up, but, being drunk, he stumbled and knocked over his chair.
"What's wrong?" The bartender rushed out from the kitchen.
Count Nefaria hiccuped, one hand gripping the table to stay upright, the other hand pounding his dizzy head.
"Count, you've had too much to drink."
"No! I've had enough!" Count Nefaria retorted loudly, his gaze sweeping over Alex and the others, finally settling on Pietro.
"I know you. I know you! You ca for . After all these years, I thought everyone had forgotten . God, you finally ca!"
"Honestly, I'm quite interested in hearing your story." Seeing Count Nefaria's state, Alex didn't need to guess that Pietro had been recognized. There was no point in hiding anymore since, according to their original plan, no one here was leaving anyway.
"That's not important... cough... not important at all."
Count Nefaria's labored breathing led to a fit of coughing, then he smiled broadly, excitent showing in his entire being.
"Hahaha! I knew... I knew this day would co. I've been waiting for forty-five years, sitting in this bar until dawn every night. I dread of a hero pushing that door open, and now... you're finally here!"
"You'd better calm down, Count. I'm more interested in eating sothing right now. Seriously, can't you just sit down and have a good drink in your final monts?" Alex said indifferently.
"I told you, I've had enough to drink!"
Count Nefaria shouted, his bloodshot eyes glaring at Pietro, now recognizing him. Shakily, he reached out as if to embrace Pietro.
"Quicksilver, yes, that's the na. I rember you. I still rember you. You're the young Avenger. You're still young. That's great... great indeed."
Pietro's expression changed slightly. He turned to Kara, and they exchanged a look, understanding that this old man had gone mad.
"If you want release," Alex said slowly, "I don't mind sending you on your way now."
"No, no, no..."
Hearing Alex's words, Count Nefaria imdiately protested. He stepped back, shifting his gaze to Alex, mumbling, "I'm not ready. I'm not ready. I can't just..."
The old Count stood unsteadily, trying to puff out his chest and suck in his beer belly, hoping to appear more formidable. Seeing this, Alex sighed and resud drinking. He quite liked the taste of this liquor—strong, but not burning the throat.
Count Nefaria mumbled to himself, fumbling with his battle suit. The buttons he fastened and unfastened repeatedly, his actions clumsy and sotis wrong. But he seed to take this seriously, as if preparing for the most important mont of his life, just like forty-five years ago.
...…..
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
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159. "Like Before".
160. The Final Chapter of Count Nefaria.
161. Dying at the Hands of 'Heroes'.
162. Bullseye's Log - Part One.
163. Marks of Sha.
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