Chapter 1324 - 53: The Drunkards

"The weather’s really terrible today."

"Yeah, yeah, to be exact, it’s been like this for days."

Inside the tavern, the two old fellows were sitting by the window, drinking and chatting. They looked quite tipsy, their expressions drunken.

Probably due to the bad weather, and the fact that few people come to drink during the day, the tavern was empty. Besides the bartender still wiping glasses, only these two fellows remained.

Drinking alone is so dull, so the two teamed up and drank from morning until now, getting drunk and becoming closer. They chatted passionately about everything from young people nowadays to current politics, almost ready to swear brotherhood.

"Ah, Old Dunling, this ghost place... To be honest, I’ve always thought I might have some kind of superpower," said the gray-haired old fellow.

"Ah? Tell me about it," the other old fellow, who was already bald, asked curiously.

"I can’t quite explain it, just that before every rain, my knee feels a sharp pain. Sometimes it hurts really bad, lasting until the heavy rain stops."

The old fellow rubbed his knee, easily feeling the pain beneath his palm. It was like the gears were rusty and filled with dust, each bend bringing clear pain.

"Although it’s very painful, each prediction is extremely accurate. Do you think this ability is useful in Old Dunling?"

The other old fellow was a bit dazed after hearing this. He thought for a bit and then awkwardly said.

"I think... you might have rheumatism."

"Ah? Rheumatism?"

Oscar exclaimed; he had never associated this situation with rheumatism.

"Yes, really, living in Old Dunling for a long time, many people have this condition. I usually recommend them to take painkillers or leave Old Dunling and find a sunny, warm place to live," Buscalo said seriously. "You have to trust me; I used to be a doctor."

"Doctor?"

Oscar looked at his newly made drinking buddy. Seeing his shabby, worn-out appearance, it was hard to associate him with such a noble profession.

"Yes, that’s right, a doctor. But that’s in the past."

Upon saying this, Buscalo felt a pang of pain.

"Oh? What happened?" Oscar laughed, "Tell me more."

"No, they’re all terrible memories."

Buscalo shook his head and drank heavily, trying to numb himself with alcohol.

"Come on, come on, I’m actually a writer. Just lately I’ve been lacking inspiration, so tell me, maybe I’ll have something to write about?"

Oscar persuaded, clinking glasses with Buscalo.

"A writer? Are you kidding me?"

Buscalo looked at Oscar’s sorry state and couldn’t help but say.

"Just like you were a doctor once, who hasn’t had a glorious past, right?" Oscar smiled and shook his head.

"A writer, drinking here with me? And in such a place."

Buscalo’s words were a mess. The tavern was remote, small, and not well-known. He was here entirely for the cheap drinks.

"Yeah, this is my friend’s shop. I drink here for free. Isn’t that right, Heracles!"

Oscar shouted at the bartender behind him. Heracles glared at him, made another mark on the bill, and said nothing. After all, the Stuart family would ultimately pay, so Heracles let Oscar drink.

Looking at the silent Heracles, for a moment, Buscalo truly believed him. He glanced at Oscar again, and his expression suddenly turned sorrowful.

Oscar wasn’t sure what was going on. He patted Buscalo’s back and asked.

"What’s the matter?"

Buscalo said nothing. He thought he had encountered a similarly down-and-out drinking buddy, but it turned out the guy wasn’t down-and-out at all. He drank here quite simply because it was free; the real down-and-out person was him.

Reflecting on the earlier chatter and drinking with Oscar, Buscalo felt quite ridiculous.

Ah, when one feels sad, one tends to drink more. Under the alcohol’s numbing effect, Buscalo became increasingly drunk and then started crying tears.

"My wife divorced me, and she took the child with her..."

Buscalo’s genuine emotions flowed, his expression sorrowful, listeners cried, viewers felt sad. Combined with the alcohol and the pouring rain outside, it was almost like a stage play.

"Ah, this..."

Listening to Buscalo’s confession, Oscar was bewildered. Then suddenly Buscalo grabbed him, sobbing snot and tears.

"I say, great writer, do you understand? Suddenly it felt like the sky had fallen. My motivation to work was for them, but now I’ve got nothing."

Oscar’s expression became extremely awkward. He tried to push Buscalo away, but Buscalo leaned even closer. With that fervent look, Oscar could only respond dryly.

"This... this is a bit beyond my knowledge base."

"What’s wrong?"

Buscalo stared intently at Oscar. Now Oscar regretted asking so much, why not just drink obediently?

"I... I’ve never had a wife, and I’ve never been married."

With these words, the atmosphere fell into a strange silence.

Buscalo’s expression changed rapidly, finally showing a smile amidst the sorrow.

"What are you laughing at?" Oscar asked.

"Being happy seeing you’re worse off than me in some aspect." Buscalo replied.