vncnus Chapter 183 Prison Friendship?
Chapter 183 Prison Friendship?
Chapter 183 Prison Friendship?
A strong smell of alcohol emanated from the two of them, and Sweet buried its head under its paws in disgust. It didn't even smell as good as the black tea and donuts its owner carried; this alcohol stench was unbearable.
There was no light inside the cell, only in the corridor, but Sweet's cell was right at the corner and couldn't be lit. It was pitch black; all you could see was a deeper blob of black.
Even so, Sweet didn't want to face the two extra people who had suddenly appeared. Out of sight, out of mind, Sweet turned his head away.
But after a short while, he turned back.
One of them moved.
The man took out a tinderbox from his person, lit it, and used it to light the torches on the prison wall as well.
With the firelight, the prison cell became much clearer.
The one who lit the fire was an old man with a white beard and hair, wearing a shirt and knee-length shorts, with a cloak over his shoulders and slippers on his feet.
I don't know him, I've never seen him before.
But when he turned his gaze to the other man, Sweet's initial unfamiliarity with the old man turned into disdain.
The other one was none other than Cracker, with his three tufts of purple hair, half-exposed shoulders, and that familiar sword.
The smell of alcohol was too strong to see, and Sweet didn't even recognize it. He stood up, walked over to the cracker, and poked it with his forepaw.
no response.
I poked it again.
Still no response.
Sweet bared his sharp claws, ready to slap him to wake him up.
The old man chuckled and said, "I made him drink ten jugs of wine; he won't wake up no matter what I do." With that, he pulled out a small silver wine jug from behind his back, opened it, and continued drinking.
Sweet looked at the old man, then at Cracker, with a look of utter disbelief. "Drinking so much when you can't even hold your liquor, how stupid!"
"Hey wolf cub, do you know him?" The old man leaned against the wall, somewhat bored.
Sweet glanced at him but didn't say anything. He pressed his head to the ground, crawled under Cracker, and gave him a hard push, flipping Cracker over so he was facing away from the ground.
"You're pretty good to this kid." The old man was really bored, so talking to Sweet was a good idea. "Hey, do you want to know how this guy got drunk?"
Sweet didn't want to pay any attention, but the old man didn't care what Sweet thought at all. Since they couldn't understand each other's language, the old man couldn't understand anything Sweet said.
And so the old man began to speak.
Not long after, he heard about a huge entertainment complex that offered everything from food and drinks to entertainment, including the world's finest wines and gambling.
Fine wine and gambling happen to be his favorite things, and here they are.
However, he wasn't very lucky.
He always lost more than he won, and seeing that he had no hope of getting money for drinks, he started looking for a solution.
He saw Cracker on the gambling table. The kid looked silly and easy to fool.
So they chose him as their target.
At that table, Cracker had won more often and had been chosen as the leader by the onlookers who were betting, and everyone followed his lead. The old man, however, chose the opposite and still won every time.
The conman was furious when all the glory he had worked so hard to achieve was taken away from him. He challenged him to another three hundred rounds of gambling.
Seeing that the fish had taken the bait, the old man prepared to haul in the net.
The old man said, "I don't want to play anymore. I want to have a drink. If I drink, I'll be in a better mood and maybe I'll want to play again."
Without a second thought, Cracker dragged the man to the tavern.
The old man got to drink the wine as he wished, but he didn't expect Cracker to get any benefit from it either, and he made another bet with him.
Without a doubt, Cracker lost again.
"I don't believe it anymore, let's try again!" Cracker was getting a little carried away.
The old man waved his hand, "Drinking alone is no fun..."
"..." Cracker hesitated a bit because he wasn't a big drinker, but since he was already here, he figured a couple of sips wouldn't hurt to beat the old man. "I'll drink with you, and you have to keep drinking with me."
"Deal." The old man looked at him and readily took a big gulp.
While drinking and playing, Cracker got drunk.
This was something the old man hadn't expected; such a strong and tall young man had such a poor alcohol tolerance.
Cracker said he'd already drunk ten jugs, what's the limit...?
Cracker got drunk, and the old man had a great time, but here's the problem: who's going to pay for all that alcohol?
The old man had no money on him, and even if he did, it wasn't enough to pay. And Cracker was drunk; who knew where his money was?
The two of them, being so pretty and fresh-faced, were accused of trying to drink without paying. They were reported and arrested.
Sweet was speechless after hearing this. Not only was it stupid, but its stupidity was also obvious to everyone.
I was speechless at the old man's behavior; he was so drunk he forgot everything.
"Hmph." Sweet scoffed.
The old man could hear the disdain in his tone, but more than that, he thought, "So, you little wolf cub, you've finally decided to speak?"
"I know what you're trying to say, but as an adult who's come here, I just want to ask this kid for a drink."
"Charlotte Linlin's son really does look quite like her."
The old man's laughter echoed through the prison cell.
Sweet didn't understand why he was so happy, so he could only watch him smile quietly.
“Little wolf cub, your master is Charlotte Katakuri, right? Then you should know that… what was his name again?” The old man stroked his beard, thinking seriously. “I remember now, you know Yu, right?”
“Ouch—” Sweet’s tone was unpleasant as he scrutinized the seemingly harmless old man in front of him with a wary look.
People who seem harmless are sometimes not without threat.
At least for now, the old man Sweet is facing is no ordinary person.
The old man wasn't afraid; he was still smiling. "You and your master are really the same; neither of you can hide your feelings."
I've never met Katakuri, but I've heard of him. I wasn't entirely convinced at first, but now I do. This wolf cub takes after its master.
Sweet stopped talking and looking at him. The old man was unassuming and seemed to know quite a bit about him and his master; the more Sweet looked at him, the easier it was for him to find out.
Seeing through the wolf cub's thoughts, the old man took a sip of his wine, smiled, and leaned against the wall without saying anything more.
Cracker had a dream in which his brother Katakuri beat him up, saying that he was a troublesome guy and that he was going to come to jail to bail him out.
This is a dream, it must be a dream.
Cracker was absolutely certain that his brother wouldn't lay a hand on him. He was joking; his brother would only verbally abuse his younger siblings, never physically harm them.
Practice doesn't count!
Thinking this way, Cracker felt that the person hitting him must be his fake brother. Since he was a fake brother, he had to defeat him.
Cracker slapped him across the face.
"Ah! It hurts!"
He felt liquid flowing down his face, followed by a burning pain. Cracker cried out and opened his eyes. There stood a large head, glaring angrily at him, baring its teeth.
"Sweet! What are you doing here!" No wonder he felt so heavy and tight in his chest; it turned out that Sweet was lying on top of him.
Seeing that the man was awake, Sweet huffed and moved away from him, his eyes filled with undisguised disgust.
"Ouch, my face hurts!" Cracker touched his face; it was sticky. Then he saw bright red blood. "Did you hit me while I was asleep?!"
"Puff." Sweet flicked his tail and rolled his eyes at him.
Cracker wiped away the blood, rubbed his bare, sleeveless arm, and wanted to go up to Sweet and show him who was older and who was younger. "You're really giving me attitude!"
"Awoo!!"
Cracker immediately ducked into a corner, keeping a safe distance from Sweet. "Let me tell you, I'm just letting you off the hook!"
Sweet didn't bother with him; he was an idiot.