The establishment was rancorous with laughter, music, and joyous shouting for it to be easily recognized as the infamous El Barril even from a distance. With its trademark soporifics that can even make the most sullen sailor quiver in drunken haze and uproarious brawls, it was a biased environment that only a few reveled in.

Luckily for Crisanto, he was one of them.

Not only known as a regular but as an esteemed patron, befriending the owner himself; it was unbecoming of most henerals to even enter bars but it was where his reputation was meld. Fleeting whispers of his alcohol tolerance and expertise in combat whilst drunk, a silent thick sense of grudging respect against the young man, and more than enough titters and hushed flirts that were aimed at him.

In one of these nights, Crisanto would spare his affections to a female bartender vying for his attention, but tonight was unfortunately not the time. His wary eyes flitted around the chaos of the pub, searching for the man he was supposed to meet a few hours ago. "And here I thought Guelio was the punctual one." Crisanto grunted as he took a sip of his beer.

Eventually, he finally spotted the figure he was looking for, his mug of beer quarter-full. Crisanto estimated the time as he groaned. It was already two hours late, and here was his friend just about to enter. The heneral rubbed his temples, willing away the warm haze that was threatening to loosen his tongue as he sat back. Only then did he see Guelio, his face betraying no emotion but his eyes outwardly poising the apparent anger at him; Crisanto couldn't resist a grin at his expense.

As Guelio pulled himself a chair, Crisanto merely finished the rest of his beer silently, eyeing the man as he sat right across his table. Murmurings from around the bar gossiping about this person who sat directly in front of Crisanto himself.

"Came to finish me off?" Crisanto commented, a smart-ass, almost condescending tone tipped in his lips, "I bet you say that to all the men you meet."

Guelio stood his ground and only offered a small, uninterested smirk at Crisanto's little dig. "Actually yes." he confirmed, applying the same tone that the heneral used. "Now pray tell, who the hell is this Casanova person?"

Crisanto's eyes were unreadable, his face a perpetual mask of what seems to be dedicated to snidely tormenting the curious native. "A common adjective."

Guelio scoffed, not buying the heneral's blatant difficult attitude. "Give up Heneral," he emphasized the title, "Tell me where is Casanova or I swear to God I'm gonna make you do so with your sorry ass prostrated over the ashes of your own kind."

The heneral simply smoothed the wrinkles of his uniform as he stared directly into Guelio's unwavering eyes. "Shove that poor excuse for a threat up your rectum and pull it out along with your numb prostate because they're literal bullshit." Crisanto said, all pretenses of amusement gone, leaving only barbed wire.

Guelio slightly flinched at Crisanto's sudden change of attitude, of a face as serene as Nirvana yet words as poisonous as acid, but he didn't back down. Instead a small sparkle of recognition was flared as small bits and pieces were found as it formed into one clear image of a face once forgotten.

"Wait, hold on." Guelio stammered, trying to pin the image to a distinct person. And then it clicked. "You... I know you." he stated, slightly shaking but still firm with confidence.

Crisanto raised his eyebrows, awaiting the inbound question that was all painfully expected. "B-but it can't be. You're Casanova?" Guelio asked, still not believing it despite the contrary evidence.

"And here I believed you were smart enough to know immediately who I am." Crisanto groaned, gravelly voice mellowing from the beer, a façade of frustration hiding the fact that he was elated that despite all things, he was still recognized by a friend.

"You were captured, we saw you being apprehended." Guelio tried to reason, "You should be dead."

Crisanto's grin turned a notch brighter, "Haven't reached my expiration date yet."

It was as if a plethora of burdens was lifted from Guelio's shoulders as it all finally made sense as he accepted that this wasn't a mirage. "Dry sarcasm." he mused, "Now I know it's him." He inched closer to the table, clutching the letter that was dispatched to him. "I ask for parlez."

Crisanto saw the letter from his peripherals and he knew what he meant by parlez, but he didn't acknowledge its existence; instead, pushing his mug towards him. "I ask for water so you can have my sarcasm wet."

Guelio poured his glass of water onto the mug and immediately splashed it onto Crisanto's unsuspecting face. This action did not go unnoticed by the pub's patrons as they gasped, wondering if the heneral will retaliate.

Crisanto's eyes flashed dangerously before it disappeared into elation, erupting into a belated laugh, to which Guelio joined in on the fit. El Barril stood in confusion before it laughed along, inwardly relieved that a brawl did not go out. The heneral was not a fighter to be scoffed at.

"Come on, kapatid." Guelio snipped, in between laughter, "You dared me." He offered his hand in apology, to which Crisanto took, a semblance of his composure returning.

"Suck a fat one, asshole." Crisanto cracked.

"Gladly." Guelio affirmed.

As they both sat, Guelio immediately cleared his throat, ready to finish the pleasantries and get down to business. Crisanto noticed this as he casually wiped his stubbled face with a handkerchief and slowly relaxing back to his chair.

"It says in your letter you have a plan on how to get the printing press." Guelio informed Crisanto, to which he nodded in confirmation. "You've promised to tell me all about it now, so I'm calling in a chip now."

Crisanto tapped his fingers on the table, his perpetual grin lying in his face. "You know, I would've told you sooner if you just came in here at the promised time."

Guelio sighed, "Not everyone knows essentially where all the bars here are."

"Touché." Crisanto conceded, as he stood up straighter in his seat, hushing his voice into an almost conspiratorial volume. "A promise is a promise though."

Crisanto flickered back to his serious persona as Guelio immediately leaned in, readily scribbling mental notes. "There's a printing press in Intramuros that can easily support whatever you're planning."

"Wait, Intramuros?" Guelio asked, concerned, "isn't that place heavily guarded?"

"I've considered it and it's our best bet." Crisanto said, as if no lives were at stake. "But don't worry, I wouldn't suggest it to you if I didn't have a plan."

Guelio could only nod as he allowed Crisanto to continue. "I know a man who can easily have access. His epithet's Agila and I'll send him to the town square immediately tomorrow at noon. He knows who you are and will go to you."

Crisanto tapped his forehead as if telling Guelio that this bit of information is important. "Once you hear the words 'Pilipinas niyaring dibdib', then you'll know it's him. Give him one of those flyers you're giving away and walk out the square as fast as inconspicuously possible."

"What's he gonna do with the flyers?" Guelio inquired, to which Crisanto simply smiled.

"He has access and he has propaganda that's insinuating the instigation of a revolution. You can put two and two together." Crisanto answered.

Guelio racked his brain for any relevant ways that those two factors may apply before his eyes widened, with Crisanto drinking what was the remainder of the water that was in the mug. "He's going to plant the flyer at the printing press."

Crisanto grinned, "Hey what do you know. Lost boy isn't so clueless after all."

Guelio grunted but still grudgingly smiled at the compliment, silently telling Crisanto to continue. "Once that flyer's there, I'll go to Intramuros myself with a decree to lock down the printing press under the stipulation that they're printing propaganda to overthrow the government."

The young heneral's smile involuntarily grew wider as his eyes darkened at the prospect of hitting the Spaniards where it hurts from the inside. "Then I'll round up any official and guardia civil there and ship them out of Intramuros because me and my squadron will be in charge of locking up the printing press," Crisanto chuckled, "when in reality I'm letting you in."

"And since the squadron will be focused on not letting people in, they wouldn't take notice about the people who are already in it." Guelio finished the blank, incredulous at the ingenious plan.

Crisanto only stretched, "And if they ever do, well they'll have to go through their commanding heneral."

Guelio sighed, mulling over the plan once more. "I believe I've underestimated your capabilities."

Crisanto scoffed as he placed the empty mug back on the table, "That's what all the ladies say."

"I'm sure all the ladies also say that your sarcasm is insufferable, but I believe that's part of the charm."

(... ..- ... - .- .. -.)