Walking back to his hotel, Logan projected a small hologram from his watch and pulled up the news.
After finding one of the local news feeds, he nodded slowly.
"So this was indeed classified as a medium-scale battle," he mumbled, remembering the A-rank crab.
’I wonder if this place has had to face a large-scale battle yet,’ he thought, swiping away the news feed.
Curiosity piqued, Logan quickly searched for older news from previous months.
’Here,’ he thought, eyes lighting up as he found a feed from months ago. ’An S-rank Leviathan joined the siege once.’
When he tapped the feed, several clips of a massive blue whale on the horizon appeared.
Logan’s eyes widened as he found a news clip of a massive wave, towering several dozens of feet above the shore.
The next second, several figures appeared in the sky as ice started spreading in several locations, completely freezing the wave as it hung above the beach and the city’s barrier.
’Just a few S-ranks managed to stop something like that?’ he thought, stunned. ’And that Leviathan... to think an S-rank creature is so significantly stronger than an A-rank.’
If S-ranks were that strong, Logan couldn’t even begin to imagine the power of catastrophic-class monsters.
Logan looked up from his hologram, catching sight of his hotel up ahead.
"I can finally get rid of all this dried blood," he mumbled, looking at his clothes in disgust.
It was only as he reached the hotel that he noticed the respectful, awed stares around him.
"Like Arnar said," he smiled, stepping into the hotel. "Being a mercenary feels pretty amazing."
Unlocking his door, Logan quickly dumped his clothes and got under a shower.
An hour flew by before he texted Arnar and left his room again.
"It’s already one in the morning," Logan yawned, feeling slightly tired as he walked out of the hotel.
Logan’s eyes scanned the streets, searching for the location of the bar.
Finally, in the distance, he saw a shining billboard with the name Steel & Beer.
Stepping through the cozy wooden doors, a smell of alcohol, grilled fish, and smoke entered his lungs.
Inside the bar, Logan saw countless hunters just like him, laughing or drowning their sorrows in beer under dim lights.
’A real hunter’s bar,’ he thought, glancing at both military soldiers and mercenaries.
Towards the back, Logan spotted Arnar.
His head hung low, two empty beer glasses already stacked around him.
"You started without me?" Logan asked, trying to sound offended as he sat down beside Arnar.
"Oh? Colin?" Arnar said, his voice weak as he looked up.
He took another sip, then looked down again. "Didn’t think you would show up."
Logan raised his hand, calling over a bartender while looking at Arnar.
"I promised you that I’d go drink beers with you," Logan said, shaking his head. "What kind of guy would I be if I skipped out on that?"
As the bartender came over, Logan ordered himself two hydration beers with extra dosages of alcohol.
Glancing at Arnar, Logan understood why he was down. ’The person he lost must’ve been important to him.’
Silence fell between them as Logan waited for his beer and Arnar continued drinking his.
After the bartender placed the beers in front of them, Logan immediately took a sip.
"Still thinking about him?" Logan asked.
Arnar didn’t answer right away. He just gave a tired nod and drank the last bit of beer he had.
"We’ve lost people before," he said eventually. "But it never feels normal, no matter how many times it happens."
Logan remained quiet, listening patiently.
"He was like an older brother to me," Arnar added, ordering another beer for himself.
"Joined the mercenary group together. Got beers together right here after every skirmish."
A small smile appeared on his face, memories flooding back to him.
"Even after he got married, he stayed with the group... just for me."
Logan took a slow sip, eyes fixed straight ahead.
He couldn’t imagine how Arnar felt. He’d never really lost any family or close ones—only the feeling he had when Livia laid half-dead in the cave shot up.
Downing another beer, Arnar looked up.
"The worst about all of it... I had to explain to his wife and children that their father wasn’t coming home anymore," he said, clenching his teeth while a tear rolled down his cheek.
Logan shook his head, looking down.
His throat tightened, but no words came out.
What could he even say?
Arnar stayed quiet for a few seconds, then downed the last of his beer and slammed the glass back onto the table.
"You know what scares me the most?" he muttered, voice tight. "It’s not dying."
Logan glanced at him.
"It’s the thought of someone else having to tell my girlfriend... or if she was right beside me as I died."
Arnar stared ahead, his eyes filled with sorrow and emptiness.
He rubbed his face with both hands, his voice cracking a little.
"I had to look my friend’s kid in the eyes, man. Tell him his dad wasn’t coming home. And now I keep thinking... what if someone has to do that for me?"
Logan stared at him, unsure what to say.
But one question came out before he could stop it.
"Then why stay?" he asked quietly.
Arnar blinked, leaning back in his chair.
For a moment he didn’t have an answer.
Then, he let out a slow breath.
"That kid."
Logan stared at him, confused. "What?"
"The one earlier that gave us the candy." A faint smile grew on Arnar’s face. "That’s my reason."
"I stay... because someone has to stand between kids like that and whatever crawls out of the ocean next."
Logan stared at him. It was the first time he’d ever come face-to-face with someone so... real and selfless.
There were no politics involved with every move made, no secret purposes, no constant vigilance for reputation.
Just a man shattered by the death of his close one— and still choosing to stay and fight for completely unrelated people.
That night, Logan lay in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
He didn’t know why.
He just... couldn’t sleep.