Brother, Alpha, I've run away. All good things must come to an end, this feast has reached its final moments. The delicacies have long been consumed, leaving only cold leftovers and a mess. The smart ones have already had their fill and quietly left the table, while you, still unaware, refuse to leave. Clinking your chopsticks against the bowl, you fantasize about the next delicious main course, only to ultimately face the hefty bill for this feast. Someone always has to foot the bill, and this time it's you.