SZAR Chapter 53

“Cointreau, a Margarita, please.”

The sound of the door opening came from afar. Young Master Song pocketed the Aston Martin keys in his hand, then took off his coat and tossed it casually to the waiter, winking and teasing: “The usual, you know how it goes.”

This was a bar hidden in an old residence in Kyoto. The outer courtyard walls still retained their original look, but inside, the décor had been completely redone. The screen wall had been turned into a wine cabinet with clusters of postmodern design, and the bar counter was made of German-imported blue-gold sand marble. The entire bar exuded a sense of hidden in plain sight. The patrons were either wealthy or influential, and Young Master Song was one of them.

The bartender, called Cointreau, was a handsome young man. He leaned partly on the marble counter, his peach-blossom eyes full of tender emotion, giving everyone he looked at a gentle, affectionate expression: “Double the lemon juice again?”

“Yes.” Young Master Song rubbed his not-quite-long hair in slight frustration. “I’ve drunk so many Margaritas, but yours are still the most flavorful. I spent the past few days in France, and the bartenders there made it taste weird, like they added mop water into the drink. Your technique is far better.”

Cointreau kept a gentle smile, skillfully spreading the salt rim on the cocktail glass. Two minutes later, he pushed forward a glass of glacier-blue liquid. “Try it.”

Young Master Song lifted the glass and took a sip, then gave a thumbs-up. “Still you, as always.”

He lived in the west of the city but had come all the way to a bar in the south just to order a drink. Yet after one sip, he set the glass aside and, shifting his fingers slightly, covered Cointreau’s hand with his own.

The bartender’s fingers were long and slender, and under the dim bar lights, they glowed with a subtle sheen.

Cointreau calmly withdrew his hand, smiling: “I forgot to add a lemon slice just now. I’ll pinch one for you now.”

Young Master Song felt a slight disappointment.

But he quickly recovered. Cointreau was a hot figure in the scene, handsome, charming, and skilled at making drinks. Rumor had it he was good in the kitchen too. He would accompany someone for drinks and chat, caring and attentive, yet he never agreed to step beyond that. Even if a boss in the circle offered a huge sum, he wouldn’t comply.

In short, this kept bartender would accompany, serve, and entertain, but he would never cross the final line,.

He pulled back his hand and changed the topic: “Cointreau, I saw you switch cars in the garage, a Porsche 911, huh? Quite bold.”

Cointreau smiled. “Last time I went to a party with Boss Wang, I helped him mix drinks for his business partners. They liked it, signed a contract on the spot, and Boss Wang gave me the car.”

Young Master Song nodded. “You driving home tonight?”

Cointreau replied, “Yes. I won’t drink tonight. I’ll pour some tea to celebrate your return.”

He poured golden tea into a wine glass and drank it in one gulp. His Adam’s apple moved slightly, making Young Master Song’s eyes widen.

Coughing lightly, he stood up and carried away the Margarita. “I’ve got plans with friends too. Well then, Cointreau, see you?”

Cointreau bowed politely. “See you.”

By the time Cointreau stepped out of the bar, it was almost 1 A.M.

Cointreau in service mode and out of service were very different. While working, the corners of his mouth always held a smile, as if he were constantly tender and attentive. Off duty, however, he appeared cold. Tall with long legs, he stood there expressionless, giving off a strangers keep out aura.

Cointreau started the engine and swiped on his phone. “Navigate to the Guyue Banyan Manor in the west of the city.”

The electronic female voice responded, “Okay, navigation set to Guyue…”

Before the mechanical voice could finish, a sharp ringtone cut in. Cointreau glanced at the incoming call, swiped to answer, and tossed the phone onto the dashboard. The case hit the windshield with a biu, then bounced back.

“Speak.” He held the steering wheel and slowly drove out of the underground garage. “What is it?”

“Xiao Xiu, it’s Dad.” The man’s voice came over the line, timid and tense, his throat tight. “Um… how’s work going?”

The phrasing was awkward, clearly hiding something. Cointreau snorted. “Work’s fine. Laugh a little behind the bar, deal with old men groping me now and then, what’s not fine about that?”

“Then…” The man hesitated.

“Coming after you again, huh?” Cointreau’s voice was flat, unreadable. “What’s the deadline?”

“Two weeks.” The man swallowed. “They said if we don’t pay, they’ll break mine and your brother’s legs.”

Chu Xiu slammed on the brakes. The Guyue Banyan Manor was in the western suburbs, requiring a drive through a winding mountain road. The Porsche 911 was now halfway up the hill.

He scrolled through the manor owner’s messages. The 911 had been a popular model a few years back. Now, with so many luxury cars on the market, it wasn’t as valuable, and his had been driven for a while, it wouldn’t fetch a good price.

“Got it.” Chu Xiu covered the phone with his hand. “I have a car. I’ll sell it first, then figure out the rest.”

“Eh…” A timid voice came through. “Xiao Xiu, I promise—” His tone suddenly spiked, then quickly deflated, muttering almost under his breath, “I promise this is the last time.”

No gambler’s oath was worth trusting, not even a father’s. Chu Xiu’s face was cold, his expression at peak scorn. Yet the words that left his mouth were calm: “Got it.”

“Yes, yes.” The man’s voice on the line lit up with joy at that reply.

Chu Xiu pressed the end call button and slammed the phone heavily onto the car seat.

He didn’t believe it, but what could disbelief do? This man was his only family in the world, the only one who ever called him by his real name. Chu Xiu had dropped out of college before finishing, working as a bartender while navigating all kinds of people. To everyone else, he was just Cointreau: peach-blossom eyes, gentle and attentive, always smiling, never showing a cold face, never frowning, never losing his temper. As for Chu Xiu, who was he to anyone else?

Only this man still called him “Xiao Xiu.”

Lose this man, and he would lose his only connection to the real world.

Chu Xiu drew a deep breath and restarted the engine.

In fact, if he wanted to make money, being a mediocre bartender wasn’t the fastest way. Public relations would earn more in one night than a bartender could in ages, especially someone like Cointreau, so famous that many people would want a fleeting spring breeze encounter with him.

But Chu Xiu couldn’t do it. He had a sense of purity.

He could accompany someone shopping, have meals, drink together, but when it came to going all the way, he couldn’t cross that mental line.

Cointreau was very skilled at controlling his emotions. He just held the wheel and adjusted for a moment, then restarted the engine. But beneath his calm surface, Chu Xiu’s frustration hadn’t eased at all. Through gritted teeth, he thought, “Damn it, I wish a meteor would just hit me.”

At that moment, a streak of dazzling light cut across the sky, rushing toward the winding mountain road.

Five hours later, the local radio news channel: “Reporter on site: At 2:35 a.m. today, a meteor fell on the western city’s mountain road. The meteor broke apart while passing through the atmosphere, and debris accidentally struck a moving car. The driver was killed instantly…”

Meanwhile, far beyond the interstellar space, in the Imperial Central Hospital’s VIP ward for the zerg race…

The life-monitoring device beeped softly. The medical staff turned and smiled. “Your Excellency, you’re awake.”

Chu Xiu’s face remained expressionless.

He wished to be hit by a meteor, he was really hit by a meteor? Why didn’t he get that kind of luck when it came to making money?

A nurse handed him a small watch-like box, gesturing for him to wear it. “Your Excellency, this is your light brain. You were about to undergo vital-sign monitoring, so we removed it.”

Chu Xiu nodded and instinctively smiled; but the moment he raised his hand, the smile froze on his face.

This hand… isn’t his.

Chu Xiu was a bartender, and his hands were as valuable as a pianist’s. Many patrons traveled thousands of miles just to watch the liquid arrange itself in his aesthetically pleasing hands, forming wondrous, colorful patterns. Among his regulars were plenty of hand enthusiasts. He cared for his hands even more than his face, slathering them with the finest skincare products without thinking. His knuckles were well-defined, the touch delicate. But now, these hands…

These hands were proportionate, but still hadn’t fully grown. They were slightly fleshy, like a high school student’s.

He said calmly, “Give me a hand mirror.”

The moment the mirror was held up, Chu Xiu could no longer stay calm.

The face in the reflection bore an 80% resemblance to his own. Peach-blossom eyes, gentle and affectionate features, just younger. A trace of Cointreau was visible, yet… the hair was rainbow-colored.

Male zergs had never had great aesthetic sense, and this hair was worse than a glam punk disaster. Tufts of purple, red, and gold stuck straight up like cones, covering half the eyes, resembling a multicolored exploding sea urchin. It made him look absurdly tacky.

Chu Xiu took a deep breath.

As a high-level bartender in the bar scene, famed as a kept bartender, Chu Xiu’s professional standards were impeccable. Anything could be sloppy, except taste and hairstyle. He could not tolerate this explosion of hair. He planned to ask the staff if there was a nearby barbershop.

But when he looked up, the room was empty, the medical staff had all left.

Newly awakened male zergs generally had short tempers, especially those with head injuries. The medical staff treated Chu Xiu like a ticking time bomb, unwilling to linger in his room.

Chu Xiu had no choice but to look down and fidget with the light brain in his hands.

It looked high-tech. The moment his fingers touched it, the contents popped up, spreading a fluorescent-blue holographic screen in front of him. He tapped with his fingers and first opened a massive stack of bills.

⟬ Imperial Central Hospital: Neural Repair Surgery — 2,560,000 Star Coins ⟭

⟬ Imperial Central Hospital: ICU Basic Care Fee — 125,800 Star Coins ⟭

⟬ Imperial Central Hospital: Medication Expenses — 56,230 Star Coins ⟭

Chu Xiu nearly lost his breath.

He opened his personal account. ⟬ Balance: 1,380 Star Coins. ⟭

Expenditures for underage male zergs always went through their parents’ accounts. Chu Xiu hadn’t had his secondary awakening yet; his personal account indeed had no money and didn’t need to.

Yet Chu Xiu didn’t realize this, he thought he was completely broke.

He hadn’t expected that after carrying huge debts in the human world, he would land in the zerg world still under massive debt. This world really was screwed.

Chu Xiu had never had a proper job before. To repay debts, he chose a not-so-honorable path, putting all his skill points into bartending and reading people. Now that he was in debt again, his first instinct was to find work in a bar.

His fingers unconsciously stroked the light brain, a habit from his past life, handling bottles.

The male zerg’s light brain was specially designed by the Empire. To increase fertility, links to matchmaking websites were placed on every male zerg’s homepage. A swipe of his finger opened it.

Chu Xiu looked down and saw countless photos on the site.

Then he noticed filtering options at the top right of the page. He opened them, and the first option was wealth ranking. For a kept man who navigated between all sorts of powerful people, sensitivity to this ranking was extremely high. He tapped instinctively, and the interface refreshed.

The top photo immediately caught Chu Xiu’s attention.

The man in the photo looked slightly older than Chu Xiu. Fine lines traced the corners of his eyes, yet he did not appear aged. Instead, he radiated a calm elegance, the kind shaped by storms weathered. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and gave a polite smile to the camera, looking refined and cultured.

It hit Chu Xiu’s sweet spot perfectly.

Scrolling down, Chu Xiu discovered that this man’s name was Yi Xi, the head of a group called Stellar. His wealth was followed by countless zeros, too many for Chu Xiu to count. One glance was enough to know: a lifetime of bartending wouldn’t come close to matching this fortune.

Chu Xiu closed the interface.

A bigshot of this level existed in a completely different world from someone like him.

A bartender needed not only skill in reading people but also self-awareness. He knew exactly which level of boss could be approached, and which were only for distant admiration.

Yet on his way out, Chu Xiu’s finger accidentally tapped [Send.]

In an instant, an invitation message went out.

He frantically tried to find a retract button, but after searching, there was none. Chu Xiu clicked his tongue and thought, “Forget it.”

A bigshot like this probably received countless invitations every day, surely they wouldn’t notice a tiny shrimp like him… right?

Meanwhile, Yi Xi was holding Stellar’s quarterly meeting.

He had been working overtime for days, staying at the office until midnight, ignoring the flare-up of his stomach illness as if he wanted to finish the rest of his working life in one go. The executive directors attending with him all had dark circles under their eyes, weary and drained.

During the meeting, his light brain dinged with a notification.

⟦ Male Zerg Chu Xiu (not yet secondary awakened, level unknown) has sent you a date invitation. Accept or Decline? ⟧

Yi Xi’s finger froze mid-air.

He stared at the name for a long moment. His blood seemed to run cold. Finally, he closed his eyes and let out a helpless, bitter smile.

Secretary Lin, who stood beside him, looked up. “Boss?”

Yi Xi said calmly, “Postpone the quarterly meeting. Everyone may leave.”

The directors were completely confused, but when the superior gave an order, they gathered their folders and exited. Soon, the meeting room was empty, leaving only Secretary Lin and Yi Xi behind.

Secretary Lin was puzzled. “Boss, the quarterly meeting determines next quarter’s investment direction. You haven’t reviewed the financial reports yet. Why stop now?”

Yi Xi lit up the screen and pushed it toward him with the back of his hand. “Take a look.”

“A date invitation? No one outranks you anyway. Just decline it.” Secretary Lin leaned closer, confused, and looked at the text on the light brain. The moment he saw the sender’s name, his expression changed drastically. He blurted out, “Chu Xiu? How could it be Chu Xiu?”

He raised his head in alarm. “Didn’t the doctor say he wouldn’t wake up for another half month? How is he already awake?”

Yi Xi shook his head. “It seems the doctor’s judgment was mistaken. His Excellency has awakened earlier than expected.”

Secretary Lin’s face turned grim. “Then what do we do next? I’m afraid we won’t be able to settle everything before he starts asking questions.”

Yi Xi did not answer. He adjusted his glasses, closed his fountain pen, then half-draped his suit jacket over his shoulders. Standing up with his back to Secretary Lin, he remained silent for a long time.

This was simply an unsolvable problem.

Secretary Lin felt so distressed he could not speak.

He looked up. Yi Xi stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of Stellar’s headquarters, watching the neon lights and the constant flow of traffic below. Countless emotions churned in his heart, but in the end, they turned into a helpless sigh.

“What is meant to come cannot ultimately be avoided.”