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Chapter 319: The Taste Of Victory, Part

I was given a secluded narrow corner fitted with the least smudged mirror stand they had to put on the new set of fancy-schmancy garbs.

Guess even in the medieval ages – where diseases and plagues ran amok unimpeded – presentation was still everything. But I have to wonder, after sliding my hands through these silky-smooth sleeves, seeing the shimmer of its embedded gold lines run a perfect uncreased length around my body, is there maybe such a thing as overly presentable?

Clearly, Leon didn’t seem to think so, otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone for such a bold and brazen design. Had its own flowing cape too, it even has a little hard material woven between the fabric around the chest area for some extra testosterone points, I guess.

Speaking of – that’s a whole ‘nother I could barely wrap my head around. Staff-man describes the outfit as a parting gift, an ‘au revoir’, a ‘gg ez’ type of offering with no strings attached. Was I supposed to just take it at face value and think nothing more of it? Not question why he was giving it to me in the first place? From the goodness of his heart? Can I really believe that’s all it was?

Apparently so, ’cause I didn’t have time to contemplate on it anymore. The moment I got the frilly shirt cuffs straightened right, I was promptly chucked into a parked carriage outside already revved up and ready for a canter.

In there, as the carriage walls rumbled to life, and the wheels squealed with every gradual accelerating swivel, my ears made quick acquaintance with another boisterous show of roaring applause right across from me, with claps loud, and squeals even louder... only this time, it seemed it was a performance running solo.

“Yay! Congratulations Big Man! You’ve done near the impossible, you won, you actually did it!” spoke a familiar voice through the ovation. “Shame you didn’t get a chance to place a solid hit on my brother like you did to Leon. He certainly deserved it, but ah well... can’t win them all.”

.....

“You...” I said, in a surprised-but-should-have-expected-it tone of voice. “Tell me, there’s like – four of you minus the wizard, right? How come it feels like you’re the only host I’ve seen so far that’s actually doing their job?”

The Wicked Witch Of The Panel straightened herself, lifting her large bulky hat from her head and placing it atop her lap, allowing a stream of long raven-black locks to fall.

“That’s because, apart from the recently inaugurated Amanda, I’m the only among them that actually knows how to speak, and what to say to people.”

I nodded. “Alright, then what did you come to say to me?”

Turns out, it wasn’t really much to write home about. Just my banking info, apparently – I completely forgot there was also prize money involved – and it was a sudden whiplash to the senses when out of the blue she started spouting about whether I wanted cash or the exact amount wired directly to me.

So much for knowing how to speak to people... thought she was trying to bribe me to secrecy or something for a second there.

Anyway, after talking numbers for a little while, jotting down every minute detail in her little tablet there she pulled out from I don’t really wanna know where, the topic was suddenly slingshotted to the complete opposite spectrum of anything business... to a little grey zone she called ‘indulgence’.

If I’d be so kind to be in a photo with us both for her social media page, she’d be extremely thankful. Didn’t see a reason why not, so I went with it. But after that, my kindness was tested again, when requested kindly if she could scoot beside me just a little bit closer than she should for the next photoshoot, I’d be ‘just the best’.

When prodded why, she simply said my new look was pleasing to the eye. So yeah, that happened. Leaning in so close, it was bordering a dangerous line... the amount of ‘accidental’ brushes, seriously... there’s only so many timid ‘oopsies’ you can give before eyebrows start being raised.

She asked for a few more things of me, peculiar things – phone number, a profile page, my age, and if it was fine by me if she sends Amanda the photo she took of us... y’know for a little laugh on her expense, or so she claims anyway.

Is this what getting hit on feels like? Is it always this awkward? If so, then I think I prefer Irene’s methodology much better... it certainly was much more shameless than whatever this was.

“So, Big Man,” She went back to her seat, shifting herself all prim and proper. “I want to ask...”

“Another question...” I said, sighing.

She smiled sheepishly at that. “One more. I’ll leave you alone after this one.”

“Alright, then,” I waved a limp hand. “Say away.”

“Just who are you?”

I blinked. “Pardon?”

“Seriously, who are you?” She asked again, firmer this time. “You’re a man from nowhere, arriving from nowhere. It’s your first time here, right? Convention like this, showing up as Amanda’s mysterious boyfriend despite multiple times telling me she doesn’t have time for one. No reputation, nothing to your name... then out of nowhere, you knock out-cold the most famous individual in our community, rise through the popularity poll, and the reason why our live stream has shot up to the number one spot in terms of views. It’s like you’re meant for the spotlight or something. You’re mysterious.”

“I think you’re blowing it up way too much out of proportion, I’m not a golden goose, trust me,” I shook my head, baffled that this was something she was even thinking about. “Why are you so curious anyway?”

There was little simper to her smirk right then. “I like mysterious.”

“Well, you won’t find one here...” I simply told her. “I’m just a guy from the countryside that surprisingly can punch hard. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“No secrets at all?”

“Like what?” I snickered, drifting my eyes out the carriage window. “What do you want me to say exactly?”

“I dunno, it’s just...” The Witch frowned, eyes staring away deep in thought. “That scary time back then... did you know Amanda went missing for a few days? It wasn’t long ago, somewhere before the Sludge... she must have told you about it, right?”

“Yeah, she did,” I blanked my expression. “She came out, alright, though. No harm done.”

“But no memories either,” She said, still with the same pondering stare. “Then just weeks after came that stupid Sludge out of nowhere. Strange, don’t you think?”

“It’d be strange if I didn’t think it was strange. It’s all very scary, I remembered I was having dinner when that happened, I – ”

“No, not that, not that,” She cut me off. “I mean it’s strange, because... where do you fit in? You can’t have met when she’s gone missing... you also couldn’t have met her after, she was recouping. Then there’s the Sludge... no one’s allowed out, so not there either.”

“We were neighbors,” I said at once. “I know, I know, cheesy right, but – ”

“But not anymore?”

“I moved out.”

“When? Before she went missing? After?”

“I moved after, I think, look I – ” I had enough. It was all getting very, very borderline conspiracy, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh no, you think I’m involved somehow, aren’t I? Oh God, the jig is up! My kidnapping days are over! Don’t turn me in just yet. I’ll give you another photo, you can even scoot in a little more, I swear! Please, I have a vampire to feed, a phoenix to wake – what are they going to do without me?”

I made sure to sound as absurd as possible, to make her sound as absurd as possible. This girl hadn’t a clue how close she is to barging in on the truth... and I rather she doesn’t come knocking anytime soon.

Thankfully, that little chuckle snapped her back to her senses, giving one of her own too, with a small bashful smile. “Sorry, sorry, I just love a good far-fetch theory. But you can’t blame all of it on me. Random guy shows up, make waves in the community, refuses to elaborate, and is on his way to a commemoration in his name... leaving the convention with all the spoils kept to himself. But don’t worry, face like yours... you won’t need to kidnap Amanda to get her. So you’re crossed off the suspect list. For now, that is.”

We shared another bout of laughter... but it was kinda too little too late. The mood’s been dampened thanks to the sudden gear shift into conspiracy lane. Didn’t talk much after that, seems the conversation well has dried up, but luckily that awkward silence didn’t linger on for too long.

The carriage slowed, and noises could be heard. Loud noises, jovial noises. Laughter, cheers – the buzz of chatter rang loud and lively – coming to its peak, as the carriage stopped with another squeak.

“Aww, seems that’s all the time I have with you,” said the witch, sounding sincerely disappointed. “Ah well, can’t have you all to myself, I suppose. After all, you already have others waiting for you, don’t you?”

Someone outside, the driver maybe, swung open the carriage door for me, gesturing politely forward with a bow. I stuck my head out, stared... smiled.

“Too long,” I answered.

Fountain spewing sparkling water. Cobble-paved paths where the hustle of countless feet stepped and danced. Huge banners draped over buildings, vibrant streamers swaying on awnings, a jolly band on march winding through the crowded streets... and looming above them all was the ever gargantuan tower echoing a bell’s toll, and somehow in its fading echoes – it sounded just as mirthful too, in celebration, commemoration.

“Well, are you waiting for, dear Hero of Mysteries?” asked The Witch, smiling wide in the shade of the carriage. “Don’t keep them waiting any longer already. Let them celebrate proper – go.”

So go, I did. And the moment my feet landed on the pavement, it started again.

The cheers ever as abundant, their smiles ever as wide... and Tyler, somewhere in the midst of things, still clinging onto that mic, ever as loud.

“Someone certainly took his damn time!” He said, still unseen, but definitely not unheard. “Ladies and gentleman, in case you haven’t noticed – I am pleased to announce our Hero has finally arrived to join us as we get shitfaced and possibly get kicked out of the building! What do you say, Big Man? You up for a bit of fun?!”

I stepped in, squeezing in, waddling through the sea of people to get deeper in. No way he could hear me, no way I could reply – so I just raised my hand to the sky, and stretched my thumb up high.

There’s your answer.

“ALRIGHT!” Tyler boomed into the mic. “THEN LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!”

Everybody immediately raised their arms too, with screams and with joy, and like a violent wave raging forth, I was swallowed by the sea, keeping me well below the surface... until I made good on that promise.

Forget racing, forget fighting... this is where the true battle of attrition begins.

With one bottle at a time.

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