On the street near the outskirts of Kandahar was a small, nameless bar that was currently open for business.
Merlin was sitting behind the bar while swinging a metal jug in his hand. With the blessing of his dexterous fingers and keen senses, the silver jug was waving in his hand as if it was alive.
The drunken guys in front of him looked on as if they were dazzled.
"Pa"
With a soft sound, Merlin placed the jug in his hand on the well-cleaned counter. He twisted the jug, poured the bluish-green liquid into the goblet, put a slice of lemon on it, and pushed it to the guy in the half-worn waistcoat with an old, cloth-wrapped assault rifle at his feet.
"Your 'chaos'."
Merlin picked up the handkerchief in his hand, wiped his fingers, and said to the half-drunk guy:
"And, $20, thank you for your patronage."
"Mmm, that's great."
It was nighttime, the militants who had slipped out o have fun picked up their glasses, took a sip, and groaned comfortably.
Under Merlin's gaze, he mumbled something, rummaged around in his pockets, and finally took out a stack of crumpled banknotes and placed them in front of Merlin's eyes.
"Well, that's all I have."
The guy's eyes drifted away and said:
"The money for this time, and last time, and the time before that."
Merlin stretched out two fingers in disgust, pinched the note, and threw it into the counter. He was lying on the table a little bored, and said to the alcoholic in front of him:
"You sneaked out to drink again, won't your superior punish you?"
"Punish? Ha, who will punish me?"
The alcoholic said with a hint of loss and despair:
"My commander was killed by a sniper yesterday, exactly like how the last commander had died, and now I'm elected leader. Those damn Americans are like crazy, seriously, I don't even know whether or not I'll live to see the next sunrise."
"Be optimistic."
Merlin comforted the militant in front of him. He took a wine glass from behind, poured wine, added ice, and pushed it to the disappointed ma, saying:
"I'll treat you to this glass. I guess that you will definitely be able to live for a long time."
"Thanks, Yuri."
The expression on the half-drunk guy's face immediately turned joyous, he picked up the glass, raised it towards Merlin, and drank the wine in the glass.
His eyes were completely muddled.
Under the influence of alcohol, his already unsteady will became shaky again.
Oh, by the way, as for "Yuri", that was Merlin's disguised name here.
"Yuri, you are really a good friend."
The drunken militant stammered to Merlin:
"If there was no war, I would definitely invite you to my house. Invite you to meet my family and have a meal together, the lamb made by my Mia is the best food in the world, and my two adorable children..."
"Oh? It's the first time I heard that you still have family."
Merlin says to the guy in front of him as if he were chatting:
"Where are they now? Your wife, and your children."
"Dead."
The drunk man's tone did not fluctuate as if he was talking about an ordinary thing:
"Killed by an American bomb a month ago. I'm the only one left, Merlin, there are no other survivors left in my village."
"..."
Merlin was silent for a moment, he poured another glass of wine for the guy in front of him, and said:
"My condolences."
"It's nothing, haha, Yuri, really, it's nothing."
The man held up his glass and said to Merlin:
"I'm going to die too, maybe soon, and then we'll be reunited. Until then, I'll fight like a man, and fight those damn Americans... hiccup, this wine really nice!"
"You've been drinking too much."
Merlin straightens his body, and says to the drunk man:
"You should go back to rest. Also, what I asked you to inquire about..."
"I found out."
The drunken militant in front of Merlin said unsuspectingly:
"The badge you showed me, I saw it once in the mountains south of Kandahar when I was with the convoy escorting weapons a few days ago. They had a lot of people, a lot of weapons, and they hid in the mountains to fight the Americans. They're heroes."
"The mountains in the south?"
Merlin nodded and said:
"I see. Thank you for sharing. Well, you should really go back, any later and your team members will rush into my poor little bar to drag you back."
"I know I know."
At Merlin's urging, the guy grabbed the assault rifle that was wrapped in cloth next to his feet, and walked crookedly towards the door of the small bar. Perhaps he had remembered something sad, because he stretched his voice and cried ashe walked.
His spirit had long since collapsed under the blow of the death of his family. What was alive now was but an indifferent body.
He says it is for revenge, but Merlin guessed that the poor man who lost everything in the war was probably only living to live now.
This is normal. After all, most people are just ordinary people. They don't have the will or the power to turn themselves into an avenger driven by hatred.
A few minutes later, a gunshot came from outside the door, followed by the exclamations of pedestrians.
Merlin continued to wipe the wine glass in his hand as he spread his dark senses outward. On another street outside the bar, his client was lying there, bleeding all over the floor as his head was shattered by a flying bullet.
He died.
As he said, he died in the same way as his commander and the commander before him.
Perhaps he couldn't fight back due to the anesthesiac effect of the alcohol, maybe it was because he didn't even notice the sniper's presence.
Anyways, he was dead.
He may not be a good person, but now, he could finally be reunited with his family.
Merlin shook his head and looked at the wine glass he wiped clean in his hand. After a while, he threw the wine glass into the garbage can.
As if the very clean wine glass had also been stained with blood.
Merlin was lying on the bar as he waited for his next customer to arrive.
He had opened this small bar three months ago, it was a very small house that was facing the street; in it were several tables and chairs, and a few chairs by the bar.
Behind Merlin was a wooden wine cabinet filled with local and exotic wines.
To be honest, to open a bar in a *** country was a very stupid and eye-catching thing to do. Initially, Merlin didn’t plan to do it, but changes oftentimes run faster than plans. The sudden change in the situation in this country over the past few months had caused Fury and Merlin's original plans fell through.
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But he soon had new plans.
The business of this small bar in the last month is really good, which was within Merlin's expectations. After all, when both sides are in the midst of an intensifying war, the soldiers would need a place to ease their emotions.
A mixed environment can always attract all kinds of people. Different people from different places carry different news, though they're mainly very fragmented news, but it can be pieced together little by little into a complete puzzle.
Merlin is not in a rush, since it was useless to be nervous with the current situation.
Ten minutes later, another wave of guests came to Merlin's small bar that didn't even have a name, but they didn't come to drink.
"Save him, Yuri."
A middle-aged man covered in blood shouted in a tone of supplication. Behind him, several young people carried an injured old man with the door panel. His belly was bleeding continuously, and he looked as if he had been wounded by a bullet.
The middle-aged man who was begging Merlin was the supplier of Merlin's bar and a businessman in the neighborhood. His name was Alef, and he was barely a friend that Merlin had met during the few months of he stay.
"Save my father! Please."
Alef kept begging, he knew that Merlin's small bar was a clinic a few months ago. Merlin initially disguised his identity as an unlicensed doctor.
"Don't worry, Alef, I'll save him."
Merlin dropped the rag in his hand, and came out of the bar; he begins to unbutton his cuffs as he checked the condition of the dying old man.
After a while, he said to the bewildered young men:
"Take him to the back room! He needs immediate surgery."
"Hurry, what are you standing around there for?"
Alef shouted to his sons in Arabic that they woke up from their daze and they immediately carried the injured old man into the back room of the bar.
A minute later, Merlin walked into the back room with a semi-worn out medical kit. He turned on the bright light to make the light source as bright as possible.
He put on medical gloves and said to the nervous businessman beside him:
"You'll be my assistant and let your kids out, they'll just get in the way here. By the way, let them wipe the blood off the floor, hell, I'm still in business! No guest would dare to come in with blood splattered all over the door."
Alef screamed and kicked his children out, he then closes the door and stands beside Merlin.
Merlin used a paper cutter to cut open the clothes of the old man's abdomen. He wiped the wound with a cotton ball, and after a few seconds, he said:
"Hand me the tweezers. Your father was lucky that the bullet wasn't lethal, but he was gutted and needed stitches after removing the bullet...it won't be difficult to do."
Alef hurriedly handed the medical forceps to Merlin, who asked while looking for the bullet in the wound:
"It should be safe over at your home since the conflict between the militants doesn't seem to have spread over there. How could your father be injured?"
"He was injured on accident."
The Arabian wine merchant said sadly:
"One of my trucks was robbed outside the city, so my father went to deal with the matter. As a result, he encountered an exchange of fire between the Americans and the militants. Fortunately, one of my sons followed, otherwise I would have lost him."
"Mmm?"
Merlin frowned and said:
"Did they fire outside the city? Has the conflict already spread to the city? That's bad."
As he spoke, Merlin gently lifted his steady hand, and a twisted, bloody bullet was clipped out of the wound. He tossed the bullet on a nearby plate, then lowered the pliers and picked up the suture.
"Yes, the situation is getting worse."
Alef looked at the bullet heads in the plate and said painfully:
"There is no way to do business here, and I was planning to move out before my father got injured. I plan on bringing my family to join my cousin in Turkey."
"You're gone, what about my bar?"
Merlin said with a trace of regret:
"I can't find another merchant to sell me wine in these chaotic times."
"I have a warehouse in town with plenty of stock there."
Alef said to Merlin:
"You saved my father, and I'll leave you all the stock at a base cost since I can't take it all with me anyways. It takes money to start life again in Turkey."
"I thought you would give me a discount."
Merlin cut the suture with scissors while joking. Finally, he wiped the old man's wound with alcohol and touched his forehead.
Fortunately, there were no fever or complications.
He threw the bloody medical gloves into the trash, looked back at Alef and said:
"Bring the old man home, let him rest, and when he is healed, you can leave this hellish country."
"Thank you, Yuri, I really appreciate you."
Alef watched as his father's breathing calmed down, and thanked Merlin:
"Getting to know you is the luckiest thing I have done in the past few years. Before I leave, tell me what help you need. My house also needs to be sold. Are you interested?"
"Well, you really are a shrewd businessman."
Merlin shook his head:
"But I have no plans to buy a house for the time being. As you can see, the conflict is escalating, this country is at the brink of destruction, and I may have to leave here soon. I'm here to make money, not to kill myself... but, now that I think about it, I do need your help with something."
Merlin took the badge of the Ten Rings from his pocket and handed it to Alef, saying:
"You have been doing business locally for more than ten years, have you seen this?"
The businessman took the badge, and under the light in the back room, his eyes changed a bit, and Merlin caught this emotional fluctuation.
"I...have."
Alef returned the badge to Merlin, and with a hint of worry and fear in his eyes, he said:
"Yuri, I don't know why you are looking for them, but listen to me, don't touch them. I heard some people say that this attack on the United States was instigated by them."
"Sounds like you know a lot, Alef."
Merlin looked at his watch, there was still some time before dinner, he said:
"Do you mind telling me everything you know?"
"Alright."
Alef looked at his father, gritted his teeth, and said:
"But you have to keep it secret, you must keep it secret, they have eyes in the city, our little conversation here might cause trouble for my family."
"Don't worry, Alef."
Merlin knew that another piece of the puzzle about the secrets of the Ten Rings Gang was about to arrive, which meant that he was one step closer to completing his mission and leaving this war-ridden country.
He pats Alef on the shoulder and says softly in a gentle voice:
"I'm good at keeping secrets."
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