Late at night on a street corner, the dim lights were down and the atmosphere in the pub was very peaceful, with only the strong smell of alcohol lingering in the air.
This is a newly opened pub. Perhaps because there is not much publicity and its remote location, there are very few customers in the pub and there is no conversation. Everyone sits in their own shade, tasting liquor, and after resting enough, walks out into the wind and rain.
Lorenzo sat at the bar, with a sword bag full of spiked swords hanging beside him, revealing a cold corner that frightened anyone who noticed it.
It seems like I didn’t do anything today, but it also feels like I experienced a lot.
Lorenzo stared at the wine in the glass. His face was reflected on the azure surface.
After drinking it all in one gulp, Lorenzo did not feel much drunk. As a witcher, his physique meant that such numbness could only last for a short time, and he could not even indulge himself completely.
"You look troubled."
The bartender came over. There were not many customers at the moment, so he was quite free.
"It's okay, but I just feel like something is wrong, like I lost myself at that time."
Lorenzo responded lazily, looking up and smiling at the bartender.
"The new store is pretty good, Hercule."
"I think it's not bad. Although it's a bit remote, at least it's far away from the downtown area." Hercule put his hands on his hips and looked at his new store with satisfaction.
"The downtown area is full of mixed people. It's easy to make money, but there are a lot of things to do. Those guys fight in the tavern from time to time, and sometimes a few of them die. It's really annoying."
Feeling the harmony in the tavern and the soft songs playing slowly on the phonograph, Hercule enjoyed the beauty of peace.
"Where is the old store?" asked Lorenzo.
"I sold it to someone else."
Hercule said as he picked up several wine bottles and poured them back and forth. The different colored wines mixed together and were poured into the glass. Fine bubbles kept floating on the surface, and the color was dark green, like the saliva of some monster.
After doing all this, Hercule pushed the wine glass towards Lorenzo. Lorenzo glanced at it. Although he was reluctant, he still took the glass and said "whatever happens" because Hercule waived the bill.
"So Mr. Holmes didn't come here just to get a few drinks from me, right?"
Hercule asked, and at this moment the sound of footsteps was heard, very light, but it did not escape Lorenzo's ears.
Poirot leapt up onto the bar, and Lorenzo tried to grab it, but it leaped up again and landed on Hercule's head.
It made a squeaking sound, as if mocking Lorenzo.
"Dead rat."
Lorenzo cursed inwardly, then looked at Hercule and spoke uncertainly.
"I always feel like... I seem to have forgotten something."
"The memory palace. I taught you that," Hercule said.
It was a magical palace with countless corridors and doors. The bookshelves in the rooms were filled with books, recording in detail all the events in life, waiting for the owner of the palace to consult.
It was with the help of Hercule that Lorenzo regained his lost memories.
"No, it's a little different. I encountered antimemes at the end of the world, and I was also trying to use the memory palace to avoid them..."