No need to touch this "blonde"

Some of the locals may call this place a bar until they're hoarse, but Erron sees a familiar saloon. He doesn't even remember how many times he has been in such places. And how many times he killed fools in exactly the same walls who sat with their backs to the exit. Here's another one of this kind ... Chuckling at the fact that the wind god is in the Outside World, whom he recognized by the braid and the glowing shit on his shoulder, Black takes a step to his table and sinks into a chair, pushing his hat so that it covers his eyes. Complete tranquility, great music and cute waitresses, obviously specially recruited from the beauties from the former Edenia. "Honey, bring me a drink to your taste," he orders softly when a tall brunette with sky-blue eyes approaches him. She rolls her eyes. Well, yes, of course: a proud girl from Edenia works in an institution for all sorts of scum, and the soul wants beauty and wealth. Erron knows the perfect solution to the problem, but the hole in the pretty girl's head is of little interest to him at the moment. Besides, he's done three orders today, and now he wants to rest, and the conditions for that exist here. While waiting for a drink he looks around the saloon and finds no danger. It is known that harmful Scarlett only dreams of the moment when she will bring his head to the customer, who for some reason is not there. "Your drink, mercenary," the waitress mutters, banging a tall glass of beer right in the middle of the table, "You don't have to pay, as you know very well." "I'm not stingy," Erron shakes his head, dives his hand into his pocket and pulls out some gold coins. "Keep it if you don't want to give it to the owner." Noticeably thawed, the girl cautiously takes the coins to hide them in her pocket. Then she nods gratefully and quickly leaves. Smiling, Black tastes the beer and does not grimace, although the taste is quite nasty. Over the years he has lived in a strange world, he has already got used to the fact that sometimes people drink shit of varying degrees of lousy here. At least there are hops, which is commendable. A company of newcomers stumbles in. God! It's hard to look at them. Arrogance above the roof, weapons for show, pride and disregard for their safety. Five faces. He had not seen any of these faces on custom posters — so let them live. The guys are twenty years old, they will still have time to gain experience, if they survive, of course. Mentally wishing them not to die in a ditch at night, Black takes a sip. The swill burns the esophagus, but at least it does not corrode, as he has seen more than once. As the Edenians say — bless One Being this girl who could have poisoned him, but did not. After lighting a cigarette, Black closes his eyes. "I'm telling you that this blonde is just hot!" he hears the barely legible exclamation of a red-faced, obese man. Yeah, brown—haired slightly for fifty kopecks in appearance, a bandage on his left eye, shaved temples - a shopkeeper, sells all sorts of trinkets until noon, and then falls in here and scolds Kotal Kan until the evening. He was fined more than once for verbiage, but by the grace of the emperor he is still alive and even supports his family: a daughter of about thirty years old, who, because of a nasty character, will not find a husband in any way, and a wife who openly welcomes lovers in a two-story house. He turns his gaze to the "blonde" who was poked by the victim of adultery and chokes on beer. No, well, even he, with all his love for flat humor in order to infuriate the enemy, did not dare to call the whole god a "blonde"! "Well, come up," his younger friend answered the peasant, "You will at least take revenge on your wife, otherwise the whole city already knows..." "Shut up!" the deceived husband begins to yell, his face turning dangerously purple. Black heavily gets up from the table and silently approaches them, holding a paper with tobacco between his teeth. Preoccupied with their conversation, they do not notice him. And Black with a smile puts his favorite revolver to the man's temple: "Ladies, don't spoil my rest. It's life-threatening." "Hey, man, chill out," the younger of the two drunks abruptly sobers up after seeing death over the shoulder of a comrade. Inexperienced mercenaries as one turn to them and watch what is happening. So, they are not completely hopeless. They are ready to step in if anything. "I'm completely calm, friend. And that blonde is mine, okay? And I don't recommend looking at it, especially for such mediocre people like you. However, she'll give you a hard time herself if she hears. I hope my words have reached your tiny mind."he presses the gun to his temple harder and smiles as if he is having a conversation at a luxurious reception. "Man, we understand, stop it. She is already looking at us with displeasure,"the guy is trying to protect his friend. And he is stubborn, Erron even likes such courage.   "Okay, I don't want to upset my love. Live," — abruptly removing the weapon from his face, Black, with a smile of a well-fed wolf, hides the revolver in a holster on his belt and supports his victim's chin with his fist, "and rejoice. By the way, your product is average, change the supplier."   The man nods cautiously, not taking the suicide bomber's gaze off Black, and he smiles maliciously and lets out acrid smoke in his face, puts out a cigarette in a glass with swill and turns around, rightly not expecting an attack from behind. He sees the surprised eyes of the wind god who has sat down at his table, lifts his hat with his fingers in greeting. Every step towards Raiden's younger brother is easier than the previous one. Falling opposite, Black says hoarsely, without ceasing to smile: "Hello, God Fujin. What have you forgotten with us? And just try to say that shit is happening in Earthrealm again." "I wanted to evaluate the local service," the god of wind drops in tone to him and takes his mug without risking drinking, "Do you think this can kill me?" he asks with malice, looking at him in an unusually confused way.     What does he even know about Fujin? Yes, it seems like a lot of everything and at the same time very little. The younger brother of the thunder god himself, who managed to get to the livers of every second acquaintance of Black. An excellent crossbow shooter. A close friend of Bo'Rai Cho, with whom Erron himself will never sit down to drink in his life. He doesn't seem to be involved in any nasty things. And Black now really wants to know what the hell brought the defender of an alien world to the Outworld. Well, it will probably be fun to flirt a little, as well as to get into bed, if possible. He hasn't had a lover for a long time, and he's not interested in girls today.    "Take a chance," Erron shrugs in response, "And how do you like the service?"   He thinks for a couple of seconds, looks around the room, shrugs his shoulders with the words: "Two out of a hundred. As a sign of respect for the alien world." Erron raises his eyebrows with interest, not taking his narrowed gaze off the interlocutor. There is something intriguing about him. He evaluates with a look from the bottom up. Capricious slightly plump lips, strong-willed chin, sharp cheekbones, perfectly correct nose, long colorless eyelashes and the most amazing eyes in this fucking world. He can't even see the pupil, not to mention the iris, which is flooded with a slightly greenish glow barely perceptible in white. A few hairs come out of the braid, falling on a forehead devoid of wrinkles.    "So your blonde, Black? Somehow I don't remember giving a reason." Erron's laughter startles those drunkards who tried not to even accidentally look in the direction where the mercenary with a bad reputation had gone. Well, bad for them, Black himself was proud, proud and will be proud of his reputation until his last breath. "Mind you, I wasn't the first to say about the blonde. But it became unpleasant to me that some crooks allow themselves to insult you, God Fujin. And about mine or not mine... don't you understand jokes? Proud to meet you, so to speak," slapping him on the shoulder, Erron takes the mug from him and tastes the sour wine, "Phew! What a disgusting thing you ordered! Hey!"— he sees the beauty who served him a beer, —"Dear savior, repeat your choice for my friend. This filth is simply impossible to drink." Shaking a wave of hair, the girl leaves. Black hesitates to break the silence, noticing that the wind god is thinking about something of his own. And only the appearance of the waitress makes him return to reality and nod in response to the mug placed in front of him. "Mr. Black, you are a very good client, but it seems to be forbidden to carry a weapon with you," the girl whispers, leaning towards Erron, as if deliberately demonstrating a bold cleavage, and winks.    "You can tell that shit to those guys over there," lowering his voice, Black looks at the company of guys that he noticed because of their inexperience, "and don't even think of hinting at this to me. Thanks for the drink, baby," he finishes louder.    The girl leaves without showing her attitude to what was said. "Are we friends, Erron?" Fujin asks, frowning. "Only a friend won't let you get poisoned by what all sorts of crooks pass off as wine here, Fujin. But I don't mind getting your opinion on whom you think I am." Fujin thinks funny. He props his cheek with his fist, lowers one corner of his lips and looks at him as if scanning. Black even wants to shudder from such a look sometimes, but not at this moment, now he looks back, unconsciously mirroring the interlocutor's pose. "Gods, I didn't even imagine how much is hidden in you," the wind god says in a barely audible voice and closes his eyes, slightly turning his head away. "   You found out all my sins," Black grins, leans back in his chair and swings on it,"well, sorry, I've never seen myself perfect." "I wasn't fooled about you either, Erron." "Apparently, you were wrong," Erron crosses his arms over his chest, lifts his chin and does not take his eyes off the man. He is really curious about what he saw inside him, how he will put these observations into words. "I was wrong. I didn't even imagine that you were so adventurous," the wind god answers hoarsely and suddenly looks at him with flashing eyes. Black notices faint pink spots on the cheekbones. With a bang, he puts the chair on all its legs, bends down to the god of the wind and whispers: "I'm terribly gambling, but I usually don't lose my head. You saw something else, didn't you? Don't be surprised, a lot of people like boys here. Especially beautiful ones like you." "You'd be surprised, but I've known for a long time that a same-sex relationship exists," the wind god absently drops, seemingly still focused on the contents of Erron's inner world. "A point in your favor, Fujin. I thought you were a hothouse flower who had heard very little about various sexual things," Erron twitches his cheek, "I won't hide it — I'm interested in you, but I'm not going to lose my head. If you agree, I will be sincerely glad, if you refuse, I will not be hysterical." And yet, Erron Black waits with a frozen heart for an answer from Fujin, who is confused by his directness.