158. Drunken Life and Dreams.

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 some alcohol.

He wore his old battle suit, but he was now too old to fill it out. The suit hung loosely on his shrunken frame, full of wrinkles.

"You like stories, huh? Good. When I tell others about these things, they secretly laugh at me. I know they look down on me, 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 me. I'm quite interested," Alex said with a smile.

"It was a glorious battle. I personally ended those who called themselves 'heroes'."

Mumbling something 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 seemed 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.

"Hahaha! I knew... I knew this day would come. I've been waiting for forty-five years, sitting in this bar until dawn every night. I dreamed 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 something right now. Seriously, can't you just sit down and have a good drink in your final moments?" 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 name. I remember you. I still remember 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 immediately 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 resumed 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 sometimes wrong. But he seemed to take this seriously, as if preparing for the most important moment 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 Shame.