"Clang!"
Glass goblets clinked together, producing a crisp and pleasant sound. The pale golden champagne liquid frothed with fine bubbles, looking exquisite under the lamplight.
In contrast, Caesar's glass, which only contained plain water, was a bit lacking. Because of seeing two dead people after drinking before, he no longer dared to easily try alcohol.
"Hey, Caesar, isn't this a bit much? This dinner party is in your honor, and you won't even take a sip of wine?"
Leonard teased with a smile.
"Ah, sorry."
Caesar could only explain, "After I drink, my mental state tends to be unstable, and I see strange things, so I can't drink."
The atmosphere immediately cooled by a few degrees.
Loss of control—something every Beyonder dreaded most. And Caesar just happened to be on one of the most dangerous Pathways. After his explanation, no one pressed him further, but the awkwardness lingered. Even Leonard, usually so carefree, now wore an embarrassed expression, as though he had said too much.
"It's alright, everyone doesn't need to mind me."
Caesar smiled to ease the tension. "Most of the time I'm fine; it's just after drinking that problems arise. Maybe I just need to continue master the potion to reduce its side effects. In time, it should be fine—and then we can drink together."
After this, he frequently raised his glass, symbolically making a round with each colleague, exchanging a few jokes, which slowly improved the atmosphere. When Caesar and Klein clinked glasses, the latter's expression seemed a bit hesitant, wanting to say something to him. But he quickly covered it up, and Caesar didn't ask in detail.
Captain Dunn was the last to clink glasses with him.
Captain Dunn was the last to raise his glass with him.
"Old Neil sent me a letter." Dunn chuckled. "He said working in the Goddess's church puts him at ease. He's come to terms with his regrets and sleeps soundly now."
"That's wonderful then."
Caesar replied.
"If Old Neil were still here, he would definitely rave about this steak." Rosanne cut off a piece of juicy steak, and after tasting it, she sighed with emotion. But despite saying so, she put down her knife and fork, neither eating nor drinking, only her eyes fixed on the meat on the table.
"It's a pity he's not here." Ms. Seeka Tron, who had the air of an author, said, "So, for his sake, eat a bit more."
"But I still need to lose weight."
Rosanne was a little swayed.
"It's alright. Think of it as eating for Old Neil."
"Ms. Seeka, you're right!" Rosanne affirmed, then lowered her head and began eating in earnest.
The meal carried on with chatter and laughter, everyone sharing recent events and daily life. The scene grew lively.
Caesar returned to his seat and focused on his food. Training fatigue had dulled his appetite, but he knew he had to eat. He cut his steak into small pieces, forced them down with soup and water, chewing just enough to swallow. In this way, after slowly eating for a while, his appetite gradually improved, and he finally managed to clear the food in front of him.
Waiters brought dessert after the meal, and the full colleagues began to chat. Seeka was discussing the difficulties of writing her novel with Rosanne, Klein and Leonard chatted about poetry, and even the aloof Ms. Reideen was saying something intermittently with the stoic Frye.
The wine was good, the banquet was good, but there was always an end. Seeing that everyone had eaten enough, Dunn, as the Captain, raised his glass again, "Alright, everyone, to close the banquet, let's toast Caesar once more."
Everyone heard this and raised their glasses simultaneously, all looking at Caesar, smiles on each of their faces.
Caesar picked up his glass and stood, looking at the smiling faces of his colleagues, and gently let out a breath.
"Thank you, everyone," he said sincerely.
— — — —
Besides appetite loss, another result of training was muscle soreness. The next day, Caesar awoke in agony—even sitting up was a struggle. Luckily, his younger sister Cecilia had once studied massage to care for him, and her hands loosened his stiff muscles until he could move again.
Because of the Lanevus incident, they had missed the theater last weekend, so they rescheduled for the coming one.
In the following days, Caesar's life became more regular. In the morning, he would report to the company, then study mysticism knowledge until lunch and a break. In the afternoon, he would first go to the shooting range to practice, and then go with Klein to their combat instructor, Gowan, for training.
"Your mysticism foundation is nearly complete," Klein told him one morning with a smile. "It's time to combine it with practice."
"Oh? How so?"
Caesar heard him say this and immediately became interested.
"Don't be so excited, it's just an underground trading market related to mysticism." Klein smiled, "I'll take you there to look around, buy some materials, and then when we return, I'll teach you how to make a Sleeping Charm."
"That's a great idea."
Caesar said happily. He knew about the Sleeping Charm; Ms. Reideen had used this charm to control Hanass at the time. Although he himself had the more convenient servant's bell, its origin was suspicious, so he preferred not to reveal it.
The two took a public carriage, chatting casually as it swayed along, until they arrived at Tingen's docks.
"How's your control over the potion recently?"
As they chatted, Klein casually brought up the topic of the potion.
"It's alright, as long as I get normal rest, I don't hear any strange sounds."
Caesar also answered casually, but he began to wonder inwardly what his colleague was going to say.
"Hmm."
Klein walked a few more steps, then turned to him and said, "You know, I've been working as a Seer at the Seer Club recently."
"I've heard others mention it."
Caesar nodded. For Klein, as a genuine Seer with magical powers, going to such a place was practically a dimensionality reduction strike. And since he went so often, he must have earned a good amount of extra money.
"When I'm at the club divining for others and guiding them, I always feel that the potion's influence in my body lessens."
Klein continued.
Hmm?
Caesar sensed something was off and couldn't help but stop, looking at Klein.
Is he hinting at the Acting Method to me?
"What do you want to say?"
"I mean, when I act according to the name of my potion, the potion seems to adapt better to my body." Klein smiled, continuing to strongly prompt Caesar, "So I thought, perhaps you could also try acting according to the name of your potion. Perhaps this way, the potion's influence on you will be much smaller."
He really does know the Acting Method—and he even shared it with me!
Ah, right, he probably had similar thoughts during the last dinner party.
Caesar thought to himself, finally understanding the meaning behind Klein's peculiar hesitation earlier.
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