The Next Morning
Damon forced himself to return to his normal routine. He couldn't afford to be absent from work too often—people might start asking questions.
As soon as he arrived at the office, his co-workers greeted him and asked how he'd been. He simply explained that he had been dealing with several personal family matters, keeping things vague but believable.
His explanation seed to satisfy them, and no one pressed further.
He sank into his office chair, let out a deep sigh, and muttered to himself:
"Back to reality... another day working just to earn enough to cover bills and survive the daily grind."
A few monts later, a familiar voice called out to Damon—one that made him smile imdiately.
It was none other than Lara.
"Damon! I brought you so coffee," she said cheerfully.
Damon didn't hesitate to accept it, and the warmth in his eyes showed just how happy he was to see Lara slowly recovering, her smile finally returning.
Their other co-workers glanced over, clearly envious that Lara had personally brought coffee to Damon's desk. The two exchanged casual greetings, and Lara expressed how happy she was to see Damon back at work and slowly returning to a sense of normalcy.
A few monts later, one of their colleagues—soone who had previously joined Lara during her investigations about The Fool—spoke up.
"Hey, Lara, how have you been? I've got so new updates about The Fool if you still want to chat with us soti," they said excitedly. "Apparently, he saved a bunch of people that night. Sure, a lot of people died, but if you ask his supporters, they'll tell you—those people deserved it. Most of them were corrupt candidates running for office."
Lara simply gave a polite smile and replied, "I'm not that interested in The Fool anymore. But I am glad he saved those won."
What her colleagues didn't know, however, was that Lara had been one of those very won... saved by The Fool himself.
After a long day of work, Damon found himself fully absorbed in catching up on the codes he had been working on. When he glanced at the clock, he realized it was already three in the afternoon. He felt the exhaustion creeping in, and more importantly, hunger beginning to gnaw at him. Though it was still a bit early for dinner, he figured it wouldn't hurt to take a quick break.
He thought about inviting Lara to co with him, but when he looked over, he saw she was still on a video call. She caught his gaze and quickly gestured that she couldn't leave yet.
With that, Damon decided to head down by himself.
As he exited the elevator and stepped out of the office building, he was greeted by the sight of nurous food vendors lined up outside. It was the perfect place to grab sothing cheap and filling—exactly what he needed with his tight budget.
There were plenty of options to choose from, but one thing that irritated him was the overwhelming number of people smoking in the area. The smoke drifted through the air carelessly, ruining what could have been a peaceful break. Damon frowned slightly—there was a designated smoking area nearby, yet these people clearly had no regard for it. They just puffed away, oblivious to anyone trying to enjoy a al nearby.
Damon smirked to himself with a trace of malice when a thought crossed his mind—he could easily use his Tarot card ability to make every single smoker here burn themselves as punishnt for their lack of decency.
But he restrained himself.That might be a bit too cruel, he thought. Besides, he wanted to stay under the radar for now—no need to draw unnecessary attention.Your day will co... all of you rude smokers, he ntally muttered.
He decided to walk a bit farther, hoping to find a quieter spot with fewer people but still with sothing decent to eat. After a short stroll, he spotted a familiar face—an old man running a modest food cart, selling fish balls and iced drinks.
It was none other than Sir Niel, the sa man Damon once saw crying helplessly, tornted and broken over the disappearance of his daughter, Patricia.
But now... there was a glow in Sir Niel's expression. Even though his posture showed signs of fatigue from standing all day, the smile on his face was genuine—lively, even.
It was the smile of a father who had been reunited with his daughter.
Damon approached and called out, "Sir Niel! What brings you out here? I'll get an order of fish balls, please. How have you been?"
Sir Niel's eyes lit up in recognition, and he imdiately began preparing the order. With a cheerful tone, he started sharing his story.
They had just moved into a small apartnt nearby—finally getting a fresh start. Patricia, now safely ho, was even helping him with the business. The pain he once carried was still there in his voice, but it had softened—now layered with warmth and hope.
Damon couldn't help but feel a deep warmth in his chest—sothing rare, sothing pure.Sir Niel's smile, his hopeful words, the energy in his voice... it all reminded Damon of one thing:
Patricia.
One of the won he saved that night during the massacre at the VIP candidate's "celebration."
That mont etched itself in Damon's mind—If I have to be the one to stain my hands just so people like them can smile again... then so be it.Let the world call him a monster, a murderer, or a vigilante.As long as people who deserve happiness could find it...As long as those who fight life with honesty and heart could keep on living without being crushed by power-hungry demons...
That was enough for him.
After finishing his serving of fish balls and giving Sir Niel one last respectful nod, Damon politely excused himself.
"Take care, Sir Niel," he said with a calm smile.
Then, with his coat slightly swaying in the afternoon breeze, he turned and made his way back to the office building.
Back to work... back to pretending to be just another face in the crowd.But deep down, Damon knew—The Fool was far from finished.
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