“Boss. …Boss? Don’t mess around, get up. Boss!”
“…Jonathan.”
“Hurry and get up. If you sleep in a place like this your face’ll get paralyzed. Don’t you cheese-eating American guys get that? Why are you pulling a prank you never pull and making people worry? Seriously.”
“Jonathan, stop.”
“Stop what? Hey, do you not see the people outside waiting? It’s a whole uproar—how long are you going to keep dragging your feet?”
His friend’s vacuous voice rang in the hollow air….
Lucas covered his face with his hands.
“Stop it. Timi is dead.”
“Ha ha… What’s this Utah hick even, what are you… talking about…?”
No way.
Jonathan let out an awkward laugh and stumbled back. He retreated in a daze and bumped into something with a thud.
He turned and saw a teammate’s face, silently sobbing.
The vision that had narrowed from shock slowly came back.
Guild members stood here and there, struck dumb, fixed in place as if nailed down. Lucas was gripping his face so hard it’d leave handprints. And—
And….
Timothy, his face at peace as if in a deep sleep.
And…