Bab 92: Plans [II]

Despite it being late in the night, the bar atmosphere in the bar was hushed and tired.

The bar itself smelled of spilled beer and worn leather, with a hint of something acrid lingering at the edges. 

It wasn't a place meant to impress.

It was a place where people came to forget about their lives.

The lights were dim, the tables were scarred, and the music came from a half-broken jukebox that seemed to be playing rock… if it wasn't for all the static.

If I wasn't wrong, it was supposed to be a modern sports bar. Or… well, it would've been modern around ten years ago.

Now this place was just broken, like the rest of the city.

I stepped inside, pausing for a moment to let my eyes adjust.

The space felt small, though it wasn't.

I glanced around slowly.

There weren't many people here, hardly more than seven.

A man at the counter was hunched over a drink, his shoulders curved like he was trying to make himself smaller.