In the irresistible, lively Mexico music moving along with the beats, drinking a large cup of Mexican beer, Phoebe lazily began reminiscing about the past.
He has never been a talkative person and rarely speaks to others about himself, this was the first time in many years.
Maybe it was because the music was too enthusiastic, maybe it was the taste of the beer in the cup that had been missed for a long time, he drank while talking, starting from the waves of the Gulf of Mexico, his first ship obtained there, challenging the local boss to protect his ship, talking about being thrown into the sea covered in blood after his ship was destroyed by the opponent…
Fifteen listened intently, and only when Phoebe raised his glass to ask the servant for more beer did she interject with a question.
"When was that? How old were you?"
"Thirteen," Phoebe replied in a flat tone, "I remember that day was just my birthday."
Fifteen raised an eyebrow.
