Straight Man の小説・ストーリー

old man:- what is your name mine is Tom, I know it's funny, you took tense, well you look too young for all this stress. NAMI:- I am not stressed and I just atoning for all my sins. old man:- what kind of sins. NAMI:- I grow my company on fraud and scams, I was so cruel and now I lose my both parent and my siblings. old man:- so you are telling me sitting broken will going wash away all you sins. nami:- it doesn't matter that man, who killed my family wanted to kill me by sending me into a deadly game with him, he was the one I wanted to beat by surpassing him.

Howard offered a cigarette to the man as he asked. "Not a soul," the man replied, accepting the cigarette. "No one's come to see him in all this time, and he's never left either." Howard took a drag from his cigarette and asked, "He looked pretty tough earlier. Does he practice martial arts or something?" "I wouldn't know about that. He's just a strong guy, as far as I can tell," the man said, shaking his head. Sensing something, the man eyed Howard and his companions warily before asking, "And who might you be? Why the interest in Mr. Johnsrud?"

“Who are you, Mister?” Again, the man smiled and Natalie could see how rapidly handsome he looked despite his old age. The man was a towering figure, his sheer presence commanding attention like a storm rolling over the horizon. His dark hair was streaked with hints of white at the temples and was neatly combed back, revealing a sharp widow’s peak that only added to his menacing allure. His eyebrows were thick and well-groomed and his jawline was sharp, his features chiseled like a sculpture brought to life by the gods themselves. The man caught Natalie watching and smirked even further. “Did I catch your admiration?”

Justin cracked a lopsided grin, even though he was still wincing. “I think my ribs are already broken, thanks.” He couldn’t even stand straight, pain evident in his facial features. “Jeez, do you just go about body-slamming men?” He muttered. I shrugged. “I only do that to men who are assholes.” I gave him a pointed once-over. “Case in point.” He chuckled under his breath, nodding slowly. “Fair enough. I probably deserved that.” I narrowed my eyes, already annoyed that he was taking this way too lightly.

When he says this, he lifts up his hand like a traffic officer, and right there, I see how the one who cocked his gun at me rested from poking the gun at me. “I recognize the name Tyler Harrington,” the huge one says again. In about three seconds, as he says this, I see how these men look at each other and burst into wild laughter. A mockery of me that I am confused as to why they are mocking me at this instance. “He is the foolish man who thinks he can get married to Matriarch Alessandra.” They burst into another episode of laughter, which is so loud that anyone passing by outside can hear them. “How can a man be so dumb? He was even granting interviews,” the huge one says again. However, i

Sinclair I growl down at the man before me, who is younger than I thought he would be, for one with such power. He has thick black hair and a day’s worth of stubble on his thin cheeks. The man glares up at me with dark, angry eyes and opens his mouth to speak but before he can, I slap him – hard – with an open palm. The man gasps with surprise and pain, his eyes going wide as he stares down at the floor, and I smirk. I doubt this man has been slapped anytime recently, if ever. He has the smug look of someone used to being in charge.

In the picture, Harold was listening intently to a doctor in a white coat, while Jacob sat obediently beside him. Susan's face was only half visible in the corner of the frame, but she was smiling brightly. The caption read. "I thought I'd hit rock bottom, only to realize a new path was waiting just ahead. I'm so lucky that you're always here." I thought I'd be angry when I saw the post. Yet, to my surprise, I felt nothing. It felt like I was observing two strangers who no longer had any connection to me. I liked the post and commented, "Such a lovely family. Congratulations."

I squinted. It was an old yellow sedan. Not exactly a taxi, but not someone’s sleek personal ride either. It rolled closer, headlights dimmed, engine humming like a tired animal. I stuck my hand out. The car slowed. My heart kicked. The passenger-side window rolled down halfway. The driver leaned across. He looked human enough. Tired. Eyes sunken. Slight stubble. Baseball cap. "You lost, kid?" he asked. I swallowed. "You know Lina’s Kitchen?"

He wore that same expressionless face he always had, like he’d been practicing it his whole life. A mellow rock and roll tune was playing softly in the background—something easygoing. As I listened closer, I recognized it as "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynyrd. The music added to the laid-back vibe of the bar. “Edeline, meet this little guy... the chubby one,” Conor said with a slight smile, nodding towards the older gentleman behind the bar. The man immediately defended himself, his tone light. “Conor, I already told you, I’m not fat! I just have a little extra to love, you know?” He grinned at me, proudly flashing a missing tooth, and gave me a playful wink.

I sighed, annoyed by the whole messed-up situation. As we ventured further into town, a man with a crooked smile approached us. His clothes were threadbare, his hat tipped at an angle that reeked of old, deceptive charm. "Hello, strangers! Care for a game? Win some money, lose a little, just a bit of fun, you know?" I tensed, shoving the man away. "We're not interested," I said firmly, grabbing Sebastian's arm to pull him back. I could see the curiosity light up his eyes.