Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 130: The Punishment

Goliath's cabin was dimly lit, a contrast to the vibrant light outside. Inside, the air was heavy with a sour smell, a mix of spilled alcohol, sweat, and an unmistakable trail of dried vomit. In the center of the small bed, Lambert and Goliath were half-embraced, completely unaware of the mess they had created. Their bodies were tangled in the messy sheets, and both stank of both the previous night's excess and the shame that would inevitably follow.

The rooster's crowing was a torment to their ears. Lambert, with a shaking hand, tried to cover his ears as he muttered something incomprehensible. Goliath made a guttural noise, clearly upset, and hid his head in the sheets, which stank as much as they did. Their hangover was a merciless punishment, as if his entire body was demanding explanations for the night of excess.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a low creak, but enough to make them groan. The light from outside slashed through their half-closed eyes. Lambert turned awkwardly to the other side, while Goliath growled in a low, hoarse tone.

Narinder stood in the doorway, watching them with his arms crossed, his expression a mix of disapproval and exhaustion. He moved forward carefully, avoiding stepping on a broken bottle that had been left on the floor. As he spoke, his voice carried a hint of irony and seriousness:

"Did you have a bad night?"

The comment resonated like a sentence for the two of them. Lambert barely raised his head, his red, watery eyes staring at Narinder as he tried to find some composure.

"Nari... your words... normally I would enjoy them more," he said weakly, a grimace of pain crossing his face, "but right now... I have a migraine... and..." He made an effort to sit up, but his arms and back instantly complained. He let out a small groan before letting himself fall back onto the bed.

Goliath, for his part, seemed less willing to admit weakness, although the pain in his legs and back was evident. With a hoarse voice full of poorly concealed pride, he said:

"Narinder... everything last night was crazy!" He let out a small laugh that quickly turned into a groan of pain as he tried to move his arms. Despite his state, he smiled, as if he still considered his behavior a praiseworthy achievement.

Narinder arched an eyebrow, looking at them with an air of disbelief.

"Find them a chiropractor?" Goliath added, like a request he needed.

The two of them were visibly weak, sunken into the bed as if they were unable to face the day. Lambert turned to cover his face with his pillow, while Goliath made a pathetic attempt to get up, only to fall back onto the sheets.

Narinder took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. Despite his irritation, he couldn't help but feel a slight hint of compassion at seeing them so miserable.

Narinder let out a long sigh, one that carried both irritation and resignation. With a serious look, he watched them for a moment before saying in an authoritative, yet relaxed tone:

—You are very lucky to be special to me. This time you will get your way...

Although his words were indulgent, the tone had a slight edge to it, an implicit warning that they should not repeat the spectacle of the previous night. As he said this, he turned on his heel, walking to the door and carefully closing it, allowing darkness and silence to fill the cabin once again.

Inside, the atmosphere was still a mess, both because of Lambert and Goliath's physical state and because of the smells and traces of the previous night. Goliath was visibly shaking, his muscles resentful of accidents and drunkenness, and a thread of saliva hung from his mouth, unable to control it in his condition.