The tapping sound of steps echoed throughout the street David and Jonathan walk. The sun hid itself under numerous clouds and the quality of the air seemed to have improved compared to the quality in the morning.
David enjoyed observing the people around him. They each lived their own life, full of obstacles, problems and difficulties. He liked to imagine what they are thinking, what their priorities are and what is going on in their lifes.
He turned his head to Mr. Hill, who currently stared at a small bakery at the corner of the street. Mr. Hill seemed to reminisce about something or at least that is what David speculated based on the look on his face.
Mr. Hill returned his gaze and David felt strangely caught. As if he had stolen a bonbon and his mother looked at him with a disapproving stare.
Jonathan Hill had apparently noticed David's feeling and thoughts. An almost unnoticeable smirk hid itself in his lips. He was sure now.
"I suppose your father's name was James Smith, wasn't it?"
Jonathan Hill stroked his small mustache and gently nudged his monocle on his left eye. It felt uncomfortable lying that way.
The old David's memory triggered almost immediately in David's brain. However no headache came with them. The memories were just the old David often hearing his father's name, nothing overly spectacular.
'So, he actually has a connection to David's father. The memories I saw just now didn't contain anything about Mr. Hill. What was his connection to him?'
David wondered while strolling around. He shot a quick glance at Mr. Hill, who didn't change his expression at all. He felt like he was staring at a stone sculpture.
"I am indeed James Smith's son. It has been some time since someone addressed me that way. At that time they were still alive. I wasn't older than seven years, then. What is it that you want to know?"
David met his friend John when he was ten years old. Some years before that, his parents died and he lived because of their inheritance. When he met John, the inheritance money was at its end and he was desperate.
Maybe due to pity or other reasons his friend took him in and taught him how to live without wasting too much money. John, in contrast to David, grew up without parents in the East Borough and he did never like to talk about that time.
Now they had a stable income. As far as being in a gang stable is and the old David also had a job. The influence of the Beyonder Characteristic then led to the old David's death and losing his job. Simultaneously, I, a normal guy from Earth was transmigrated into this victorian world.
Now, the life of the old David was no longer a mystery to him and he had a better view on the world, he was in.
"I was once a friend of your father, David. However, I lost contact with him a little less than two dozen years ago and due to special means I've come to know that he died."
It seemed Mr. Hill had noticed David's contemplation and misunderstood it for him trying to remember if he had ever seen Mr. Hill. His statement made it obvious that David couldn't be old enough to know him.
'He is one of his father's old friends, but the old David doesn't seem to have any memories regarding his father's friends. I can't prove or disprove his statement.'
David sighed internally as he stopped searching in those unsorted things called memories and switched his mind back to reality-mode.
He stopped when they reached the corner of the street with the bakery. The smell of bread and other pastries became extremely apparent as they stood at the door.
Jonathan Hill now turned to David, clearly wanting to ask something, but it seemed stuck in his throat. He wanted to ask how James Smith had lived. Was he happy? However realizing it could hurt David, he let it be.
"I agreed to tell you the way to the Sparebeer Bar. Just follow the way forward and go right after the second street on the right side of this street. Sadly, I am stopping here and won't follow you further."
David was surprised. He had thought the old man would follow him and didn't he say he also needed to go there? Curious about Mr. Hill's answer, he asked him.
"Sir, didn't you also want to go there? Was that just an excuse?"
"Though I said that I'd be on the way there, it is more like I would walk in the same direction. I am sorry if I disappointed you by accidentally saying a slight inaccuracies."
He had already suspected something like that. A rich-looking, old man going deep into East Borough was almost impossible. David should have expected it, he scolded himself silently without anyone noticing.
"It is no problem, Mr. Hill. It was nice talking to you and I hope we can see each other again soon. I still have some questions about my father."
'As do I, young Smith.'
Jonathan Hill then decided that they shouldn't let fate decide their next meeting.
"I also happened to own a small bar in Sherwood Borough. The name of the street is Gustav Street. Just ask the people there for the way if you have problems finding it, most of them are very good people. Now let this old man enjoy these pastries. Their smell alone is very tempting."
Jonathan Hill opened the door of the bakery and the sounds of the doorbell were ringing until the door closed itself behind Jonathan Hill.
'He doesn't seem to be a bad person. Talkative and not really complicated. But he definitely isn't the typical old man, that is apparent.'
David turned his back to the bakery and thought about Mr. Hill. Thanks to him, he now knows the way and he is also a friend of the old David's father.
Sauntering his way along the right side of the street, David inspected his surrounding with interest. He began to like it here.