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墨書 Inktalez
Ren smiled faintly, a subtle curve appearing at the corner of his mouth. His skin bore the traces of time, evidence of the countless trials and tribulations he had endured. "Lysias, I know many dream of becoming a legend in Night City, standing above all others, receiving applause and respect. But at my age, I am no longer the young man full of fantasies."
He slowly raised the whiskey in his hand, gently swirling the glass, causing the liquid to draw circles on the inner wall. The golden liquid shimmered in the light, exuding depth and warmth. "Those people you mentioned, like 'One-eyed Eagle' Jerry, with his agile figure and unparalleled marksmanship, his heroic deeds are legendary throughout the streets and alleys of Night City. And then there's 'Steel Hand' Lena, her mechanical arm is a product of her own invention, possessing technology and firepower that even some large robots cannot match."
Ren paused for a moment, as if recalling something: "But behind these glorious achievements, how many people know about the pain and hardship they have experienced? Jerry met his end in what seemed like a simple spy mission, betrayed by someone he considered a friend, a sniper's bullet piercing his heart. Lena, in a direct confrontation with a bounty hunter, won the battle but sustained injuries that left her unable to fight again. As for Tux, the 'Night Shadow King', he sacrificed himself in a grand corporate war that shook the entire city."
He placed the glass back on the bar and looked sharply at Lysias, his tone carrying a hint of seriousness: "Legends, they often come with sacrifice and tragedy. Becoming a legend in Night City is certainly tempting, but are you ready for the price behind it?"
Lysias's eyes were filled with flames, his voice carrying intense anger, each word slowly uttered from the depths of his throat, with a deep sense of oppression. "I know, Ren, I know the cost behind the legend! But are we really just doing this for a little money? In that war, how many comrades did we see fall beside us, for what? For Night City, for those officials and corporate bosses sitting in their safe offices!"
He took a deep breath, as if trying to swallow all the anger, and then slowly exhaled. Each breath made his chest heave violently. "Those people, sitting in their warm homes, controlling us like puppets, risking our lives on the battlefield for them. And when the war ends, their interests are secured, and we become a nuisance in their eyes, an obstacle to be quickly removed."
Lysias narrowed his eyes, tightly gripping the cup in his hand as if he wanted to crush it. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger in his heart: "We risked our lives in the unification war, how many brothers died by our side, we faced life-threatening dangers on the front line, all for this land, this sky. The unification war is not just for our freedom, but also for the future, for peace."
He forcefully placed the cup back on the bar, the cold liquid splashing onto the back of his hand, but he seemed completely unaware. "Ren, do you know what I dream about every time? It's the days we spent on the front line, the ammunition, the smoke, the screams, the explosions... they are all deeply imprinted in my heart. Every time I wake up, I can feel that deep pain. What did we fight for? Wasn't it for this city, for these people?"
Lysias slowly finished the rum in his hand, every drop feeling like the resentment and hot blood in his heart. He stared at the remaining liquid in the cup, as if seeing the shadow of his youthful charge in it.
"Ren, I was once the guardian of this Night City. In every street, every dark alley, I left my own footprints and sweat. I used to think that when the war ended, when I returned to this land I loved, there would be someone to welcome me, someone to commemorate me. But in the end, I just became another ordinary person in this city, submerged in its prosperity and bustle."
His speech gradually sped up, as if he wanted to pour out all the emotions deep inside. "After the war ended, all the honors, all the medals, all the memories seemed to fade like old photos thrown into a corner. Every day I wake up, I see this city's new skyline, new technology, new future, and I, it seems, increasingly don't fit in with them."
He took a deep breath, his eyes flashing with determination. "I don't want to just be a footnote in history, forgotten by future generations. I want to make every day of my life meaningful, to have my name echo in every corner. I don't want to be just a legend in a veteran's bar; I want to be a hero remembered by the entire Night City."
He clenched his fist, his eyes determined. "I want to become a legend in Night City, not the aging war hero, not the Mercenary who bows for a living. I want this city to remember me, remember everything I've done for it, remember the glory I brought to it."
Ren gazed at Lysias with an indescribable emotion in his eyes. Despite their many battles and countless encounters with death, everyone has their own understanding of life.
He silently looked at Lysias's passionate eyes, recalling his own past ideals and pursuits, as well as the changing values over the years. He agreed with Lysias's thoughts that everyone should find meaning and value in their own lives. At the same time, he also deeply understood that true happiness and peace often come from inner satisfaction and balance, rather than external recognition and praise.
Ren's hand gently rested on Lysias's shoulder, a hand filled with strength and warmth. He didn't say anything, just used this gesture to tell Lysias that no matter what path he chose, he would support him and accompany him.
He lowered his head, smiled slightly, and then said gently, "I understand how you feel, but remember, true legend is not given by others, but created by oneself. No matter what kind of life you choose, I will be by your side."
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