"I feel like I've seen you somewhere before, but no—there's no way I'd know two pathetic guys like you."
Lieben and Mike stood frozen in front of the man, too shocked to even comprehend his words. Mike, in a rush, started thinking to himself:
(Even if I tried to create an opening for Lieben to escape, in this state it'd take him two seconds to catch up to us. Maybe if I weren't injured, I could stand a chance… but right now? Impossible.)
Mike's thoughts were completely on point. The deal he'd made earlier was with the very person who was now ordered to harm him. In short, the contract stated:
If Mike lost, his opponent's physical capabilities would be equal to his own for a full day, allowing them to hurt him as they pleased.
The only reason Mike had managed to take that man down earlier was because his opponent had let his guard down. Otherwise, the contract's effect—making their strengths equal—would have made that impossible.
(The guy being called "Boss" clearly means he's on a completely different level. As long as I'm bound by the contract's effects and we're equal in strength, our odds of escaping—or worse, beating him—are zero.)
Every passing second Mike spent thinking only seemed to irritate the "Boss" even more, judging from the way his expression changed.
"Brother, chief, look—yeah, we just got here. From your point of view, we beat up your guy, we're the prey, we don't exactly look friendly—but this is all one big misunderstanding, okay? We didn't mean for any of this to happen. The guy was just too aggressive, we didn't even get his name yet. Why don't we talk first, maybe get to know each other—your name, ours, all that?"
"You talk too much. You just stole thirty precious seconds of my life. My first impression of you—complete waste of time."
(Motherfu—yeah, okay, trying to sound classy only goes so far before it turns into pure bullshit.)
"Alright then, I'll keep it short. I'm Lieben. What about you?"
"Me? I'm Boss."
(What kind of name is that? If I wanted to know your rank, I'd have asked, genius.)
"Wait, 'Boss' as in… that's what you are? I was asking for your name."
"Boss is my name. Always has been. Why would I need another?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
"Names define people—their identity. If a person is a book, their name is the cover. Mine's Boss. It defines who I am—what I was born and made to be. I don't think anything else could describe me better."
(I was this close to making fun of him, but… damn it, he actually made a fair point.)
"Well, sure, that makes sense. But isn't it more like nicknames—or names given by others—define who we are?"
"I think I worded it wrong. I don't talk much, so I'm not great at communication, to be honest. You're right—but what I meant is: I never gave myself a name, nor do I need one. My only purpose, my entire being, revolves around what I do—'being the Boss.' I've lived this life since birth, and as long as those around me call me that—my subordinates, my men—it's who I am now."
While all this was happening, Mike could do nothing but watch, wide-eyed, and think:
(I'm starting to think this isn't part of any plan anymore… they're just chatting at this point.)
Just as he was shaking off his confusion, something caught his attention—a scar across the Boss's forehead.
(raising his hand)"Boss! Mind if I ask you something?"
"Oh, right—you were still here. I got carried away chatting with your friend. Go ahead."
"Which village are you from?"
"Which village...? Hmmm… now that you mention it, it's been ages since I last talked or even thought about it. The village doesn't have a name, but if I say west of here, I'm probably not wrong."
"No way…! Do you happen to remember the village head's name?"
"Of course, of course—just give me a second to think… hmm, it was something like 'Ha—' no, no, maybe 'Hak—' or—"
"Han!? Wasn't it Han, the village chief?"
"Ah, yes! That sounds right—if my memory serves me. How do you know? Don't tell me you're from there?"
"Yeah—kind of. I used to live there… not in your time, obviously. But a few years back, I was one of the village kids. You're… what, around fifty now, right?"
"Fifty!? You're calling me an old man already? Look at me—do I look fifty to you? Idiots. What would you do if a lady was standing in front of you?"
"I didn't say anything… Besides, we don't have much experience with ladies anyway."
"No, no—I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't talking about how you look. It's just—based on what I've heard about you, I guessed you'd be around that age. You actually look pretty young, though. So how old are you, really?"
"Thirty. Barely hitting middle age."
(Thirty?! I'd say impossible—but honestly, he doesn't look old at all. Still, judging by the stories, I'd have guessed at least forty.)
"So, which stories made you think I was fifty?"
"Oh, right—sorry about that. When I was a kid, I used to hear things like this:
A boy who grew up alone, abandoned by his parents at a young age. When thugs came and took over his village at sixteen, he couldn't stand by. One night, around 11 p.m., he stormed their den alone. For seven straight hours—until dawn—people heard nothing but screams and crashing. When morning came, he walked out wearing the gang leader's coat and claimed the crew as his own.
They said he traveled to different lands for years, bringing order wherever he went—over a hundred tales about your generosity and strength. When I saw your photo and now you standing here, I recognized you instantly. The only thing that threw me off was—why would a man people called a hero do something like this to us?"
"There were so many stories, it was hard to believe someone that young could have achieved all that. That's why I guessed high—no offense meant."
Lieben, who had no clue about their shared past, just stood there, amazed:
(Holy crap… We called him Boss, and turns out he's some kind of hero. This might actually be the first time I've seen Mike show this much respect to anyone besides Faust.)
"You're right," Boss said, almost smirking. "It's only natural you wouldn't see someone like me as one of you."
He paused—then added with a cold grin:
"Not everyone's born to be a man, after all."