"Yes, yes, yes, it's not the first time, but this time is not bad."
Polo lifted his head, glancing at the slightly chilly night.
"My fur is too thick, this temperature is just right. Compared to the scorching sun back then, this is more reassuring for a mouse."
The man and the mouse sat closely together, behind them a city ablaze, and before them an endless black ocean. Thinking carefully, this scene was actually quite interesting.
"Interesting, my ass! No... no way, you are the second Polo, the first Polo died long ago."
Heracles felt his mind start to unravel, remembering that the first Polo had died at sea; so where was this second Polo's memory from?
"Polo? Polo is just Polo, Heracles, perhaps you're the one with the problem in your head?"
Polo said a bit helplessly.
"My... problem?"
Heracles pondered for a moment, and was surprisingly persuaded by Polo's words.
"Yeah, I'm actually talking to a mouse, maybe I am the one with the problem..."
