sbdcsierra Chapter 506 [Empire] Mission Hall
Chapter 506 [Empire] Mission Hall
Chapter 506 [Empire] Mission Hall
I pulled the familiar medal from the inside pocket of my uniform. It was a bit worn, the metal surface slightly dulled from long exposure to sunlight and wear, and the surrounding runes had lost their original luster. I gently grasped it, feeling the power I once possessed, as if it were still flowing through my palm. It was the symbol I had exchanged for all my resources on the Capital Planet—the Mercenary Medal. It represented my past, my identity, my experiences. With its appearance, the atmosphere around us seemed to linger for a moment, as if even the air had grown silent.
The man's expression instantly became complex, as if he saw something, as if he were weighing something. He glanced at the mercenary number that flashed across the medal, and his gaze froze. Even in this seemingly casual tavern, the identity of a mercenary still carries a strong sense of authority, and the medal I hold represents the status of a high-ranking mercenary.
I didn't give the big man time to think. I simply placed the medal gently on the bar counter, making a low clink. My voice was calm and steady: "The most distinctive cocktail, points will be used to settle the bill." This was my usual practice on the Capital Planet. Although mercenary points were expensive, they allowed me to exchange them for something that temporarily made me forget my worries.
The large man's eyes flickered, as if he were quickly determining my identity and guessing my true purpose. He glanced at the medal, then glanced at me, as if wondering why a young man like me, seemingly just an ordinary military cadet, would suddenly produce such a medal. He clearly hadn't expected me to use it in a place like this.
Seconds later, the large man slowly reached out and took the bottle. His movements were fluid and expert, seemingly unconcerned with my identity. The dark liquid slowly flowed into the glass, followed by a strong aroma, a tinge of distinct sourness and a hint of something foreign. I could tell from the man's eyes that he didn't harbor hostility towards me. Instead, he seemed to be filled with emotion, as if he had encountered something he hadn't seen in a long time.
The wine's color gradually deepened, and the aroma seemed to carry an ancient flavor, penetrating my nostrils and reaching my heart. It felt mysteriously connected to this cold planet, as if every drop told the story of this world, a story of unspoken history. The flavor was a blend of hardness and blood, much like the plasma wine I once tasted in the Capital Star Tavern: intensely stimulating and yet with a certain intoxicating ethereal quality.
"Uncle, give me a refreshing drink," I said softly, my tone light and relaxed, as if I were speaking to an old friend. While the situation outside remained complex, at this moment, I didn't intend to suppress my relaxed mood. I looked at the big man and smiled slightly, my gaze meeting his with a hint of provocation.
The big man said nothing more after hearing this. He silently picked up another bottle, slowly poured the wine, and lit a cigarette. The smoke drifted around his face, adding a touch of melancholy to the scene. The wine glass was already in front of me, the metal rim reflecting the dim light. I took it and took a sip.
The taste remained intense, like the moment ice and snow melt, a cold air intertwined with the heat of alcohol. The sour, astringent sensation tickled the tip of the tongue, then slowly slid into the stomach. After a few seconds, the taste faded, leaving only an indescribable fragrance, like the scent of some ancient herb, that instantly cleared the mind of distracting thoughts.
I put down my glass, feeling slightly dizzy. That feeling made me smile, and I turned to look at the big man: "This wine is really good." His tone was flat, but I knew the wine had begun to flow through my body, making me relax a little.
The big man looked at me with a complicated look in his eyes: "You are a high-level mercenary, why are you staying in a place like this?" His voice was low, and seemed to carry some hidden curiosity.
I shrugged, my eyes relaxed and firm: "Just came to take a look." In fact, I knew in my heart that I was not here simply for the wine or the mission. I wanted to find something, perhaps about myself, or perhaps a little understanding of this strange world.
The big man was silent for a moment, didn't ask any more questions, and turned back to mix my drink. In that moment, the atmosphere in the bar suddenly became much quieter, as if the whole world was lost in some kind of contemplation.
The ice cubes in the wine glass tinkled crisply, seemingly breaking the silence of the room. I looked down at the crystal-clear liquid as the ice cubes swayed in the glass, their subtle vibrations creating a tinkling sound like a wind chime. With each clash, my consciousness gradually faded.
A layer of hazy mist seemed to rise in front of my eyes, a feeling of being far away from reality, as if I had traveled through time and space and returned to another world.
Suddenly, a blurry figure emerged from the thin mist, then gradually became clearer. It was a woman, her figure bent, seemingly looking down at something. Beside her was a baby carriage adorned with colorful wind chimes. The wind chimes swayed gently in the wind, producing a melodious note that blended with the sound of the wine glass, like a call of fate.
The woman's face was blurry, but I could almost feel her gentle presence. She whispered, her voice soft and gentle, almost drifting into my ears: "Ruyuan, your father is a hero." These words carried a touch of nostalgia and warmth, like a heartfelt confession to a man on a distant battlefield.
She looked out of the stroller into the distance, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Perhaps she was looking forward to something, or perhaps she was reminiscing, but that emotion permeated the air, and one could almost sense her deep dependence and expectation.
The sound of the wind chimes swaying rang out again, clear and crisp yet tinged with a hint of sadness. That "wishful thinking" seemed to have failed to fully materialize, leaving behind a sense of unspeakable loss.
I stared at the blurry figure, a chaotic jumble of images swirling in my mind—a battlefield, gore, the silhouette of a hero. The figure gradually faded, leaving only the sound of wind chimes echoing in my ears. It was like an echo through time and space, gradually fading away, leaving only the clinking of ice cubes in the wine glass.
The last sip of wine slid down my throat, a warmth and a slight bitterness spreading through my mouth. The wine's power instantly and clearly surged through my heart, and the intoxication dissipated like foam. In that instant, my thoughts were like a broken rope, pulled back to reality by an invisible force. The glass was empty, the transparent liquid had long since dried up, and a few drops of water clung to the wall, gleaming faintly in the dim light.
"Wake up from the dream." I muttered to myself. The name of this glass of wine seemed to perfectly fit my current situation.
The intoxicating fog dissipated, bringing with it a clearer mind, and the hazy visions in my mind gradually faded. I looked out the window. The snow was still falling, but the sounds of this world became clearer, and everything around me became more real. Even the unique smell of blood in the air began to become pungent.
I looked away from the wine glass, and suddenly felt an unfamiliar calm. The boundary between dream and reality seemed to become clear after taking a sip of wine. The hazy illusions that had spread with the alcohol seemed to shatter at this moment, leaving only the reality before me, cold and hard.
Just like the name of this drink, what did I experience between "returning from a dream" and "awakening from a dream"? Perhaps it was all an illusion, perhaps just a brief moment of lapse, but it made me realize that every time I lost myself, it was just a fleeting dream, a self-invented illusion. What I truly had to face was still what lay before me. There was no escape, no turning back.
I put the wine glass back on the table, narrowed my eyes slightly, and made a decision secretly.
The air in the bar was still thick with the scent of alcohol. The moment I stood up, the surrounding noise seemed to instantly cease. My gaze focused on the worn mission board, then glanced at the large man, a plan already silently prepared in my mind. I walked to the bar, my footsteps echoing softly on the wooden floor. I glanced back at the gradually quiet corner, and I felt that I was no longer a stranger isolated from the world.
"Boss, I want to issue a task and settle it with points." My voice penetrated the noise of the bar, calm and direct.
The burly man raised his head, his scarred face still fierce, but when his eyes fell on the mercenary medal I held in my hand, a complex expression involuntarily flashed across his face. He seemed caught off guard by such a confident request. Perhaps it was because it was rare here for someone to directly issue tasks using points.
I watched him slowly put down the cocktail shaker, a slight smile on his face. "I'm going to collect samples of plants and combat plants from this planet. One sample of each type, one sample of each part, first come, first served," I continued, my tone steady, my words concise and clear.
My request may seem simple, but it's actually incredibly complex. This planet boasts a vast array of plant life, especially combat plants, whose species are ever-changing. Requiring every part of every plant makes the task exponentially more difficult. Furthermore, the conditions for collecting these plants are far more complex than one might imagine. Not only do we need to find them in dangerous environments, but we also need to extract each part with pinpoint precision.
The large man was silent for a moment, his eyes glancing at the badge on my shoulder, then back at my face, as if considering whether my request was in accordance with the rules. Finally, without further questioning, he simply nodded, stood up, and walked over to the notice board nearby. After a moment, he picked up a piece of chalk from the counter and began writing the task on a piece of ancient paper.
"Your mission will be interesting, but..." He paused and looked away from me, "You know, plants don't like to be disturbed, especially those combat plants." A barely perceptible smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, as if hinting at the danger of the mission.
I glanced at his whispered expression, as if reminding me that he was a seasoned veteran who had seen many confident newcomers like me. I didn't respond, but simply curled my lips slightly and waited for the task to be announced.
The big man seemed to recognize my attitude and said nothing more, simply listing the task on the notice. At this moment, the atmosphere in the bar grew quieter. My words had begun to spread throughout this small corner, like the breeze before a storm.
I adjusted my stance slightly and glanced at the crowd around me—some had already started whispering, seemingly preparing to leave, while others remained near the bar, observing this sudden quest announcement. To make my request sound more tempting, I couldn't help but smile harmlessly, as if this entire quest was just a trivial little game to me.
"You can submit one sample at a time," I added casually, "but I'll only accept one of each type." This was my way of further reducing the difficulty of collecting, giving those mercenaries who might be skeptical about the mission a compromise option. My goal was to both encourage their participation and ensure the smooth progress of the final mission.
I understand that this approach might pique the interest of some, especially those young people eager to earn points. They don't want to be burdened by overly onerous tasks, and my adjustments cater precisely to their needs. However, I also understand that the dangers of the mission cannot be ignored. Collecting plants, especially combat plant specimens, still requires tremendous effort and carries corresponding risks.
I paused, watching the mercenaries prepare to depart. My gaze swept over their hurried steps, and a sense of loss welled up inside me. This bar, this city, even this planet, seemed to have nothing left that could truly stir my emotions.
"However, I might not be able to check the results frequently at school," I said again, this time in a lower voice with a hint of apology. "Could you please accept and pay for me, boss?" As soon as I finished speaking, my slight smile turned into a subtle anticipation. It was a compromise, one that didn't make the task seem too demanding, while also allowing me to avoid being confined by complex tasks—a good compromise, in my opinion.
The large man stood behind the bar, silent for a moment. His face, unshaven and weathered, remained, his gaze downcast, as if he were silently considering my proposal. The air in the bar grew stagnant, the surrounding noise seeming distant. His silence made me nervous, as if this deal wasn't as simple as I'd anticipated.
Finally, he put down the bottle and turned to walk towards the notice board. The mercenaries nearby were already whispering to each other, occasionally casting curious glances. I stood there, a tinge of anticipation rising in my heart.
"Okay." The big man said in a deep voice. His voice was deep and powerful, a bit tired, but also revealed his decision. "The mission is issued. I will inspect it on your behalf."
As he finished speaking, I nodded slightly, feeling a sense of relief. This was an opportunity. With the release of the mission, the bar gradually returned to its former bustle, but the uneasiness in my heart seemed to be blown away by a gentle breeze, and I felt much more relaxed.
I turned and walked out of the bar, toward the snow-covered street, my steps light. This was no longer a lonely battlefield, but a new starting point.