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 seemed 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 me 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 armed and possessing an exceptionally robust hull.
'Why invest so much in creating something like this?' William pondered. It wasn't that the plane lacked appeal— on the contrary, it had become 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 seemed to share his unease.
The car came 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 home?" 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 meticulous 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.
William understood. As a person grows stronger, their body becomes more resilient, including their resistance to alcohol. So, it was no surprise that regular alcohol had little effect on someone like Delmar.
Delmar suddenly perked up, as if recalling something. "OHHHH! YEAHHH! Boss, how di —'HICCUP'— how did your invitation go? Was it successful? Did you get some?"
William laughed. "What the hell do you mean by 'did you get some'?"
"I— I don't know. I just know that whenever someone invites me over, it usually ends with me 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 some rest."
"But I'm not unwel—" Delmar tried to act tough but immediately 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 frame, 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 something to do with me 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.'