Chapter 188 - Blazing Fire (3)

The Earth Spiritfolk have a “word for all things.”

Roughly a thousand years ago, a word was born that truly encompassed joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure—a language that embraced and cared for everything in existence, from life's tender happiness to its festering wounds. Whether happy or sad, the spirits of the earth came to utter that same single word.

"Fuck!"

Today had been a fucking day for quite a few people.

"It was just getting good! It was getting really fucking good! Motherfucking, goddamn pieces of dog shit!"

One-eyed Arika poured out a rich stream of profanity. The other actors joined in the furious denunciation.

"Exactly. Of all the times to interrupt, why did it have to be right at the climax?"

"Refunding the customers isn't enough. We deserve refunds too. Do you know how many beatings we took for today's performance? Thanks to you, all that work went straight in the trash."

The senior actors fumed. They were annoyed that the performance had been interrupted. Above all, they were probably furious that their [immersion] had been broken.

"Well, we have to act when we receive a report..."

The Hobgoblin security officer was sweating buckets.

From his perspective, this must have felt unfair too. Who could have imagined it? There were all sorts of insane reports in the world, but someone reporting a play because they [mistook it for reality]?

"I-it wasn't just one or two people. Five people made the exact same report at the same time."

Apparently, the reports had even been highly credible.

"When five reports of arson and indiscriminate murder come in at once, how can we not respond...?"

"Ugor? Are you saying this was our fault?"

"I-if you'd just made your acting a little less realistic..."

"Is that supposed to make sense, or is it bullshit?"

Accused of spouting bullshit by people whose troupe was named Bullshit, the officer looked aggrieved.

"Hmm. I understand your situation."

We were currently at the security station for questioning. Although we had been cleared of wrongdoing, they said they still had to conduct an investigation, if only as a formality.

A sign hung on one side of the building: [Prevention Beforehand Is Better Than Judgment Afterward]. Was that the security force's own motto?

"But we'll still need reimbursement. We have to recover our costs. We can't run a business eating nothing but dirt. You may not have known, but our troupe is in a terrible financial state. Oh dear. If this performance fails too, we really will have to close our doors."

"Ugor..."

The officers looked miserable.

They had already finished investigating me, starting with [Can this person really produce aura resembling flames?], then [Is this person powerful enough to overturn the entire theater with aura?], and even [Is it true this person can play music freely using aura?].

Naturally, it had all proven true. I'd demonstrated my aura right there at the station.

Their gazes now held a measure of astonishment that said, “Where the hell did this monster come from?”

"However."

I smiled gently.

"As I said, I understand your position too. So if you agree to just one condition, we'll ask for only a very small amount of compensation."

"A condition...?"

"I'll give you complimentary VIP tickets. Please come to our next performance."

The actors whipped their heads around to stare at me.

"Boss Junior! What kind of bullshit is that?"

"Even squeezing them dry wouldn't be enough, and you're giving away VIP seats?"

"I don't think that's right either, Boss Junior."

Good grief. These seniors really didn't know how to do business.

I beamed.

"Now, now."

"..."

They stopped dead.

The actors pouring out complaints shut their mouths and began cautiously watching my expression. Over the past week's hellish special training, they had learned when to push and when to back down.

"Where was I? Ah, the VIP invitation."

The officers gave me peculiar looks.

The sight of fully grown Hobgoblins addressing a delicate elf as “Boss Junior! Boss Junior!” was... how should I put it? Like a young mafia heir with his flunkies? At any rate, it was anything but ordinary.

"Our troupe would like to invite the security force. Officially. I know you're very busy, but we'd appreciate it if at least four or five of you could make time to come. In return, we'll truly keep the compensation to a minimum."

"Why...?"

The officer looked somewhat bewildered.

"No, I mean, if that's all you want, we're delighted. But why would you formally invite us?"

I lowered my eyebrows a little, trying to look as forlorn as possible.

"Well... seeing the customers curse at you in the theater earlier really hurt my heart."

"Ugor? Hurt your heart?"

"Yes. You were only doing your duty as security officers. When I thought about how citizens must curse at you all over the place every day, I wanted to do something for you... We're actors, aren't we? I hope watching our performance can offer you some comfort..."

This was my killer expression, which Raviel had praised by saying, ["Like the eyes of a rain-soaked puppy, they rather tickle the edges of my heart..."] It had earned me no fewer than four head pats.

Sure enough, it worked. The Hobgoblins were deeply moved.

"Unbelievable."

"What is this fairy? Could this be an angel?"

"We stopped a young person like this from performing. We've done something terribly wrong!"

You trust people far too easily. You're making your father worry. How will you survive this harsh world with personalities like that?

"Zombie... you little..."

'Yes? What is it?'

"... Nothing. Right, what could I possibly say to you?"

The attendant spirit heaved sigh after sigh. What was his problem? Could ghosts go senile too?

In any case, the officers happily accepted the invitation. Even if their schedules prevented many of them from coming, they promised to repay our kindness.

On the way back to the theater from the station, one-armed Yumar muttered,

"I had no idea. To think Boss Junior had such an admirable heart..."

We'd been dragged away in the middle of acting, so we were still in our costumes. As we walked with nothing but cloth wrapped around our waists and pitch-black tattoos covering our bodies, passersby glanced at us with curiosity.

"Right. That was a little unexpected."

"Until now, I thought Boss Junior was a devil that crawled out of Kekereukker's stomach."

"We were just angry that the performance got interrupted... Seeing Boss Junior made me ashamed."

I clicked my tongue.

"Do you really not understand? We've come away with an enormous reward."

"Ugor?"

"Money's no big deal. We can earn it with a few more performances. We could put on another one tomorrow if we wanted. But what we've just created is [bait]."

All three senior actors tilted their heads in unison.

"What's that, Boss Junior?"

What was this? They were adorable.

Reminding myself once again that the Earth Spiritfolk were the cutest race in the universe, I calmly explained.

"We have talent. We have a production to perform. All our troupe needs now is public attention. And by tomorrow, probably everyone in the city will be talking about what happened today."

「The security force heard there was a fire and rushed over in a panic.」

「But it turned out to be nothing more than a play.」

「The aura was so vivid that the audience thought it was a real fire and reported it.」

"That's what I mean by bait."

In other words, something to talk about.

"Every member of the Earth Spiritfolk is a potential customer. Everyone watches Cavefire plays, regardless of age or gender. If you heard that [the aura was so vivid people mistook it for a fire], wouldn't that pique your interest?"

I added one final piece of bait.

"And what if word also gets around that our troupe, the injured party, invited the security officers to sit in the VIP seats?"

"Ugor..."

"I see."

The actors looked as though they only half understood.

"You mean more people will come to watch?"

"Of course."

That wasn't all.

"Besides, I'm a fairy. You don't think anything of it, but if I keep riding this wave of success, some Earth Spiritfolk will secretly become jealous. Definitely."

Cavefire plays were a culture unique to the Earth Spiritfolk. And now some random rookie elf appeared and stole the spotlight?

It would be hard to expect a positive response.

"They'll try things, twisting truths and making up lies, so we should get on the security force's good side beforehand. We're merchants too, selling our acting. It can't hurt a merchant to have good relations with the officers."

"..."

"Who knows? If trouble comes up later, they might quietly take our side. At the very least, from now on they'll cheerfully ignore ridiculous reports."

"Amazing..."

The senior actors marveled.

"Sometimes Boss Junior doesn't seem like a fairy. But that kind of cunning proves it beyond doubt."

"Boss Junior is a talent with an Earth Spiritfolk heart and a fairy's brain."

"With a little muscle on top of that, it'd be perfect..."

I wouldn't take your muscles even if you offered them for free.

Unless Raviel suddenly developed a taste for muscular beasts of men.

'Gongja,' Raviel would whisper in my ear. 'I would like you to put on a little more flesh.' Gently. 'Just a little more.' In a murmur. 'I want to see your arms thicker than they are now.'

Hmm.

I'd immediately pay the most successful trainer on the Tower's first floor a fortune if I had to, and start special training. What? Internal muscles? Bullshit. Throw them out.

"Boss Junior is grinning like an idiot..."

"Sometimes that silly grin appears without a single word."

"I don't know what thoughts cause it... Honestly, it's unsettling..."

"Scary... Creepy..."

You're noisy.

What do you know of love?

Even if you know love, you don't know Raviel, so you effectively know nothing of love, my children.

"There they are!"

It happened then.

"Ah!"

"The actors are back!"

Quite a crowd had gathered in front of the theater. One spectator raised a finger and pointed at us. At that, the Hobgoblins milling around the entrance came rushing over.

THUD! THUD!

Dozens of Hobgoblins as big as hills converged on us at once.

"Wh-what is it?"

The senior actors were frightened.

"What's all this fuss..."

"When is the next performance?!"

A Hobgoblin shouted as if screaming.

"We paid for our tickets! We're victims whose viewing was unjustly interrupted!"

"That's right!"

"We have the right to priority seating at the next performance!"

"Tickets! Give us tickets!"

They clamored like a horde of hungry ghosts. The senior actors were dumbfounded.

"Uh, ugor, wait...!"

Someone struggled out through the crowd. It was the troupe director. Perhaps the customers had been tormenting him until our return; his wrinkles had deepened in the meantime.

"Huff. These people... I told them if they requested refunds, uh, huff, we'd definitely pay them back next time, but..."

"We don't need refunds!"

The Hobgoblins shouted.

"Right! We're not here for refunds!"

"Just give us tickets for the next performance! There's going to be one, isn't there? A performance!"

"I heard the VIP seats cost six times as much as regular seats. Can I upgrade my seat now? Naturally, I'll pay the difference."

"Just tell us how many VIP seats are left!"

The director was sweating profusely.

"I-I keep telling them we haven't even set a date yet, but they won't listen. I simply can't..."

The troupe's actual authority currently lay in my hands. Merely dealing with the customers until now without rashly promising another performance meant the director had truly done his best.

"Everyone."

I bowed with a bright smile.

"Thank you for enjoying Theater Troupe Bullshit's performance. Did you have fun?"

"It's not about fun! Ugor!"

"I've never seen aura like that. But it wasn't just the aura that was incredible..."

"Anyway, it was amazing! Fierce as fire! There was something there!"

The audience was excited.

I thanked them and bowed again, but the senior actors reacted differently. More dramatically.

"Our acting..."

"..."

Yes. For one-eyed Arika, one-armed Yumar, and one-eared Sakum alike, this was probably the first time they had received such positive attention.

They didn't know what to do, like children seeing a present from Santa before them for the first time.

"We're still scheduling our next play. Unfortunately, we hadn't planned to perform Wild Dance of Flaming Swords again."

"That's absurd!"

"This is tyranny by the security force!"

"But hearing your praise makes me want to repay you, even if we hadn't planned on it."

I put on my sales smile (created by the Black Dragon leader).

"Next Saturday, we'll perform Wild Dance of Flaming Swords once more!"

"Ooh!"

"And that's not all! Theater Troupe Bullshit always puts its audience first! We won't open it to the general public. Only those who watched today will receive tickets! A special performance just for you! A secret performance!"

The audience members who had missed the Cavefire play's climax went wild.

"Thank you for your fiery support! Now, anyone who wants a tattoo, please come forward in order. We'll apply them ourselves."

The Earth Spiritfolk had an autograph culture too. Rather than signing paper, however, they marked designs on bare skin.

Actors painted their individual signature patterns with soft mud. As a result, theaters featuring popular actors often attracted crowds of fans wearing identical designs.

"However!"

I grinned broadly.

"There's one condition for receiving our designs."

"What is it?"

"Before you get your design, please shout, 'The Flame Emperor is a son of a bitch.'"

The audience laughed. They apparently thought I was joking.

But I meant it.

"The Flame Emperor is a son of a bitch. Like that?"

"Yes, thank you."

"The Flame Emperor is a son of a bitch!"

"Thank you."

"The Flame Emperor is a fucking bastard!"

"Oh my, you're too kind. You're a truly wonderful customer."

The audience chuckled, thinking they were trading jokes with me, an actor. Then everyone left looking satisfied, with designs painted on their shoulders, chests, or backs.

For the record, the design I painted was a dog.

It promoted Theater Troupe Bullshit while also impressing upon people that the Flame Emperor was a son of a bitch. Truly, a design that killed two birds with one stone.

"Zombie... you little..."

'Yes? What is it?'

"... Nothing. Right, what could I possibly say to a lunatic?"

The attendant spirit sighed again.

This ghost had gone senile. Definitely. Poor thing.

[The influence of heretical sects among the Earth Spiritfolk is weakening!]

The Tower's voice rang in my head.

[A 'return to antiquity' is beginning to gain popularity among the Earth Spiritfolk.]

[The possibility of a renaissance opens for the Earth Spiritfolk.]

[The quest 'Theater's Warring States Era: Classics in Crisis' progresses.]

[Current Heretical Encroachment Rate: 86%.]

Well, now.