Baloerin City
William's car drove on to the unknown streets as he looked outside to see a different city then the one he lives. The one he lives feels like a more sophisticated place with rich people who had desperate wives but this city was like a market which never seed to shut down as its people went on the streets and worked their shifts regularly and even did double shifts for lower wage.
"So where are we going now?" William asked.
"Sir Delmar told to bring you to the airport." George said. "From there on you will take your plane and go back to the city."
William's car smoothly entered a private lane as it approached the airport. From within the vehicle, he observed the surroundings as they made their way toward his private jet. His gaze settled on the aircraft— a peculiar hybrid of a fighter jet and a helicopter. He couldn't help but wonder which visionary had conceived this outlandish creation.
The plane hadn't undergone any significant upgrades aside from being heavily ard and possessing an exceptionally robust hull.
'Why invest so much in creating sothing like this?' William pondered. It wasn't that the plane lacked appeal— on the contrary, it had beco a status symbol among the rich.
Always keen to maintain appearances, Delmar had procured one for him. Yet, despite its popularity, William couldn't shake a subtle discomfort about the plane. What baffled him even more was that no one else seed to share his unease.
The car ca to a halt, bringing William's wandering thoughts to an end as well. George, his driver, turned to him and announced, "We've arrived, boss."
William nodded and was about to exit the car when a thought crossed his mind. "George," he called out.
"Yes, boss?"
"How do you get ho?" William asked, reflecting on how George always managed to arrive shortly after him whenever they flew to another city. He had never quite understood how George orchestrated this.
"Oh! The Beauty and I usually take the train," George replied with a smile, patting the car's dashboard.
"Oh," William said, surprised. He hadn't realized trains could transport cars with passengers still inside. "Alright then, I'll see you on the other side."
"Likewise, boss." William stepped out as George slowly drove the car away. Watching the deliberate pace, William mused, 'Is he really that ticulous about traffic laws, even in open spaces, or is he simply afraid of scratching the car?'
Shaking his head, William surmised it was likely the latter. He turned towards the plane and boarded. Despite its unconventional design— a fusion of jet fighter and helicopter— the aircraft was more spacious than a typical private jet. Inside, he noted only a few guards were present.
'Huh? I thought Delmar was supposed to be waiting for here.' William mused as he made his way to the bar area, the most probable place to find him.
As anticipated, Delmar was behind the counter, mixing various drinks and downing them in one go. He clung to the bar as the alcohol began to take effect, rendering him dizzy.
William couldn't help but smile at Delmar's antics and approached the bar. "Whisky."
"Coming right up," Delmar replied, reaching for a whisky bottle. But he froze mid-action, his gaze fixed on the counter. When he finally looked up, he saw William grinning at him.
"Boss!... Boss… Boss," Delmar stamred, his expression shifting with each repetition. Finally, he asked, "Are you really the boss, or... are you just a fignt of my imagination warning not to drink in front of the boss who might pick up bad habits?"
"Both. I am your boss, and I'm also telling you that you're setting a bad example."
"Oh!" Delmar fell silent, his thoughts drifting incoherently before he asked, "So… you don't want this whisky then?"
William shook his head. "Nope, still underage."
"But you own so many things and even have secret underground facilities with ard chanics that would be considered highly illegal." Delmar pointed out.
William shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, but it's not like anyone's keeping tabs on them. By the way, how many secret facilities did you build?"
Delmar attempted to count on his fingers, but the alcohol muddled his thoughts. "One… two… six… fifty-five… eight… anhhh, I can't rember, boss."
"Yeah, I can see that," William replied.
"So, no whisky?" Delmar asked again, shaking the bottle. When William shook his head, Delmar uncorked it and started drinking directly from it.
William observed him, eyeing the expensive bottle. "How much have you wasted by now?"
Delmar glanced at the label. "Well, this one's worth around 500 thousand dollars, so… a few million."
William's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? Why are you spending so much on alcohol? I'm sure you could get the sa quality from a different brand for a fraction of the cost."
"Yeah, I know that, boss, but…" Delmar gazed at his reflection in a nearby mirror, imagining a dashing bald figure. "Because of my heightened power level, normal alcohol doesn't pack the punch it used to, so I had no choice but to go for the premium stuff."
William understood. As a person grows stronger, their body becos more resilient, including their resistance to alcohol. So, it was no surprise that regular alcohol had little effect on soone like Delmar.
Delmar suddenly perked up, as if recalling sothing. "OHHHH! YEAHHH! Boss, how di —'HICCUP'— how did your invitation go? Was it successful? Did you get so?"
William laughed. "What the hell do you an by 'did you get so'?"
"I— I don't know. I just know that whenever soone invites over, it usually ends with scoring," Delmar said, feigning innocence.
William realized that Delmar wasn't just drunk; he was utterly wasted. Continuing the conversation would only lead to more absurdities.
"I think you should rest now, Delmar. You don't seem... well."
"But what about the invitation? Did it go well?"
"Yes, it went better than well. I'll fill you in on the details once you've had so rest."
"But I'm not unwel—" Delmar tried to act tough but imdiately collapsed to the floor. William quickly jumped behind the counter to help him up.
"Yeah, you're right, boss, I might not be well," Delmar conceded as William signaled the guards to assist him. As they lifted Delmar's large fra, he asked, "But how did you know, boss? Are you… perhaps an empath?" His eyes widened at the thought.
"No, I'm not. But it might have sothing to do with being your boss," William said as the guards carried Delmar away.
"Yeah, you might be right, boss… you might be right," Delmar murmured as they led him out.
'Well, he's down for the count. So what are you going to do now?' a voice in William's head, Anne suddenly asked.
"It's a two-hour flight, so… I'm going to get myself drunk," William said, heading behind the counter.
'Seriously?'
"Of course not. I'm not going to get myself drunk… definitely not on a plane, at least," William thought, recalling the chaos of his first flight on this plane.
'Don't worry, it won't happen again,' Anne reassured him, only to add, 'Unless they do it intentionally again.'
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