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Kyle was lying on the bed, the air in the room heavy and murky, filled with the pungent smell of alcohol and a faint tobacco scent. He felt every cell in his body protesting against the madness of last night. His head throbbed like a drum, each heartbeat feeling like a heavy hammer striking his skull. His stomach churned, his throat was incredibly dry, and a bitter taste of alcohol lingered in his mouth.
He tried to turn his head, but every small movement felt like a huge effort. The other people in the room seemed completely unaware that a new day had begun. Some were still lost in drunken dreams, while others mumbled incoherent words in a drunken stupor. It was like a space devoid of any sense of time, everything plunged into disorder and chaos.
Kyle tried to focus his thoughts, trying to recall the events of last night, but his memory was shrouded in fog. He could only vaguely remember Diego's exaggerated stories and the laughter and chatter in the bar. His heart was filled with guilt and confusion. He knew he shouldn't have let his guard down at this crucial moment, but now everything had already happened.
He remembered Eira and Bozi, he remembered their final gaze, a mixture of love and sacrifice. A strong sense of sadness surged from the depths of his heart, intertwining with the physical pain, making it almost hard for him to breathe. His eyes moistened, and tears quietly slid down his cheeks, dropping onto the pillow.
Kyle tried hard to calm himself down, but the pain and regret in his heart seemed like indelible marks deeply engraved in his soul. He knew he couldn't stay here for long. Despite feeling extremely unwell, he had to leave as soon as possible to continue his escape, for Eira and Bozi, and for himself. In this chaotic and lawless world, he was alone, but he had to stay strong for those who loved him and whom he loved.
Kyle struggled to stand up, with every cell in his body seemingly protesting against this sudden movement. His head still throbbed heavily, and the surroundings appeared blurry, as if shrouded in mist. He looked around, searching for any sign of Diego and Ray Jin, but both were nowhere to be found.
His heart was filled with an urgent feeling, a need to escape from here, to escape from Sunset star, and a strong desire to seek the truth. He pondered the past of the broken sword, the mystery of his own identity, and how to seek revenge against the Darius legion and Selena. These thoughts were like invisible whips, driving him to overcome his physical discomfort and move forward steadily.
He carefully made his way through the crowded room, avoiding stepping on anyone. His gaze remained unfocused, occasionally rubbing his eyes, trying to dispel the blur in front of him. Nevertheless, his vision still seemed covered by a layer of white mist, the clear world right in front of him but out of reach. Every step felt like walking on a tightrope. He felt that every part of his body was unresponsive, and every step required great effort.
Finally, Kyle arrived in front of the door, trembling as he grabbed the handle and slowly pushed it open. Behind the door was a staircase leading to the bar's main floor, but the stairs were also littered with intoxicated patrons, some groaning and others lying quietly, seemingly lost in a deep drunken stupor. Kyle gazed at the scene, feeling helpless and bewildered. He knew that in order to leave this place, he would have to navigate through this sea of people, which was undoubtedly a difficult challenge for him in his current hungover state.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his swaying body. Then, he cautiously began to descend the stairs, each step requiring extra care to avoid stepping on the fallen patrons. In this alcohol-laden and weary atmosphere, Kyle felt as if he were walking down an endless staircase, each step filled with pain and struggle.
Kyle carefully stepped on the stairs, each step appearing particularly cautious. His body was still struggling with a hangover, making every movement extremely difficult. The drunken men around him had limbs placed haphazardly, creating many obstacles. Kyle had to remain vigilant at all times to avoid accidentally stepping on their hands or feet.
When Kyle reached the middle of the stairs, an even more severe challenge appeared before him. He was shocked to find a large puddle of vomit on the stairs ahead, with a heavily intoxicated fat customer nearby, clearly the source of the vomit. The disgusting sight made Kyle's stomach churn, and he felt a strong urge to vomit.
Faced with this situation, Kyle knew he didn't have many choices. He had to walk through the vomit in order to continue forward. He took a deep breath, trying to suppress his disgust, and slowly stepped onto the sticky, nauseating substance. Kyle felt every nerve in his body resisting this action, but he knew it was the only way to leave this place.
Kyle's shoes got covered in vomit, the thick liquid slowly creeping up the surface, bringing an unbearable sensation. His face involuntarily twisted, but he continued to walk forward with determination. After passing through the vomit, he finally reached the bottom of the stairs. Although he had escaped the nauseating scene, the stench and stickiness still clung to him tightly.
Kyle stood at the bottom of the stairs, still feeling extremely uncomfortable in his body, his mind filled with confusion and haze. He paused for a moment, trying to steady himself, attempting to slowly move forward by leaning against the wall, but his head continued to spin heavily, with the surroundings occasionally spinning and blurring. He struggled to maintain balance, with every movement feeling like a battle against gravity. The foul smell emanating from the vomit stuck to his shoes constantly irritated his senses, making him feel extremely uncomfortable.
As he slowly moved forward, he felt the acid in his stomach churning constantly, as if it could surge up his throat at any moment. His mouth was filled with a bitter taste, and his lips were so dry they were almost cracking. He kept swallowing his saliva, trying to suppress the urge to vomit.
With every step, Kyle feels like he is struggling with his own body. He knows deep down that he needs to leave this place quickly and find a clean place to give himself a chance to recover. But in this state, every step feels like climbing a mountain.
Kyle's thoughts start to become muddled, and his body feels utterly exhausted. Despite this, he continues to push forward, hoping to find a quiet place to rest and regain strength and clarity as soon as possible. His heart is filled with an urgent desire to escape this painful state.
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