(8) Sweet Illusion

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"One day everything will be well, that is our hope

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"One day everything will be well, that is our hope. 

Everything's fine today, that is our illusion."

-Voltaire

The pub reeked of sweat, smoke, and rum

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The pub reeked of sweat, smoke, and rum. Soren wrinkled his nose as he scanned the crowded, worn-down bar. Work in the plantations of Orica was done for the day, leaving most of the men in the place coated in soot from their coveralls to their boots. Their choosing to get drunk instead of getting rest for the next laborious day was one of many reasons that Grimm preached the uselessness of their ordinary human existence.

Soren could see it - their carelessness, the selfish glare on their faces as they asked for another pint of ale or a shot of whisky, the lustful gleam in their eyes as their gazes ran over the women around them.

Women were scattered throughout, some of their doe eyes still lingering on Soren after he had walked through the door. Their skirts hiked up high around their thigh and their small tops were pulled down low, leaving not much to the imagination. Makeup was painted thickly on their faces, disguising what they actually looked like underneath. Boring. He would be more interested in a roach crawling up the wall than their desperate gazes.

Gruff laughter rang over the purrs of the women, echoing through the small pub, pulling Soren's attention to a table in the corner. Just the group Grimm sent him to find.

He merged through bodies to go to the table where four men sat hunched over, taking turns rolling dice in a cup. Mounds of metal betting chips sat next to each man on the table, a new mound building in the center. The biggest man, farthest away from Soren, had the cup in front of him, the loudness of the pub deafening his voice as he spoke to his friends.

He lifted up the cup from the table, revealing the dice underneath. Throwing his hands up in the air, he let out a cheer of triumph, the men around him sighing in defeat. Soren was right behind them now, but no one was paying attention.

"You're cheating, Rex!" yelled the smallest man, slamming his fist against the table. A few towers of chips toppled over. The other two men stayed silent, scooping up their chips that had fallen from the little guy's outburst.

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