Upon hearing old Dusa's insightful comment, the musician froze for a moment, then hurriedly fumbled to pull out a small notebook and a feather pen from his pants.
Without ink, the musician dipped the pen in the liquor in his cup and quickly jotted down old Dusa's words.
"The solitary hero, who wouldn't even deign to tell the smallest lie. But at the end of the story, will he also head for his own downfall because of it." The musician scribbled away frantically while mumbling to himself: "Such classical essence!"
And Gerard studied the blond young man closely, as if he recalled something.
He unconsciously curled his lips and sighed, "The last time I saw someone so 'proud' was two years ago, and now that person is already..."
Just as he was halfway through his words, old Dusa suddenly stopped, slapped his own cheek, and didn't continue.
The musician wouldn't let it go, asking eagerly, "Now what's already happened to that person?"
