The Freak Show Foreman

The Tril Trilo series didn’t provide detailed settings separately.

Most of the backstory had to be guessed by the players through elements placed within the game.

In the roles the actors played,

In the songs sung by the singers,

In the pamphlets that could be collected,

In the pictures appearing in the background.

The reconstructed stories were neatly organized on the TT Walkthrough Wiki.

Count Wolfenstein.

The plot vaguely came to mind.

A young man called the Count resorted to the power of the sinister ’sorcerer’ to resurrect his deceased sister.

To obtain the materials for the dark magic, the ’Count’ seduced the kind-hearted ’Princess,’ and the Count’s ’maid’ gradually watched her master corrupt and lose his sanity.

The resurrected ’sister’ was in an incomplete state, unable to smile, and among the people who gathered to amuse her, a ’jester’ fell in love with her while she remained expressionless, leading to a heart-breaking tale.

A tragic ending where no one was saved.

It was a fitting play for the eerie and ambiguous Tril Trilo series.

I saw Ella rehearsing with Paris backstage as she played her role.

Ella, dressed as a maid, immersed herself in her acting, and it felt like a character from the play had come to life in reality.

With her complexion turning pale, she looked at the actor playing the Count and shouted.

"You’re going to seduce the princess to obtain the heart of the one you love?"

"Yes. There’s no other way. To increase the chances of the spell succeeding, we need the bloodline of the royal family, which has the most powerful magic flowing through it. The heart of the one who loves me is the condition for dark magic. To obtain it, the princess has to fall in love with me."

The actor playing the Count was a man in his early thirties with a gentle demeanor, and Paris had mentioned that he was one of the star actors in this theatre. Even for someone like me who knew nothing about acting, his expressions and gestures were impressive.

"Someday, I want to stand in that place too."

Paris mumbled, watching the Count’s performance closely.

His eyes were burning with intense passion.

Knowing the future, I nodded confidently.

"You will. I guarantee it. In four years, Paris will be standing there."

"As the lead in the Rose Windmill at 25? Haha, even hearing that is reassuring."

The Count and the maid.

Their voices grew louder, and the scene was now reaching its climax.

The maid asked the Count if he could feel her heart beating, and the Count inquired if the humble maid had the strength to replace the royal bloodline with her love.

"And then, the Count approaches. He roughly grabs the maid’s arm. And he forcefully kisses her."

Paris murmured the stage directions.

What I knew was just a rough outline of the plot that could be found in the game.

I didn’t know the specific scenes.

A kiss.

Well, for someone who takes the stage, that should be a routine occurrence.

Confessions, hugs, and such.

And since Ella had said she memorized the entire script, she must have accepted the role willingly.

"Can you prove it? Can you prove your love?"

The Count slowly approached Ella.

Ella hesitated, swaying back as if frightened.

The Count firmly grasped her arm.

Ella’s back froze as if it had hit a wall.

And then, the Count’s face...

"Ella, hey!"

All eyes in the waiting room turned to me as I shouted.

Ignoring the curious glances, I approached Ella.

She blinked in surprise as she looked at me.

I knew I had interrupted her practice, but it couldn’t be helped. This was important. I almost forgot about it.

"Why, what’s going on?" Ella asked.

"I need to talk to you for a moment, outside now!" I replied.

I led her outside the waiting room.

It was just minutes before the play was about to begin. In the busy hallway, Ella raised an eyebrow at me.

"What’s this all about, out of the blue?" she asked.

"I realized I forgot to pass something along," I said with a relaxed smile. In times like this, I was grateful for my ability to keep a cheerful demeanor.

"And?"

"Our choreographer, Mare, upgraded our seats. We’re now in the central section on the second floor. She also gave us complimentary tickets to the evening performance and a free fruit platter."

Ella tilted her head, looking thoughtful. "Hmm... But?"

"We should probably factor this into our expenses. We are incurring a debt, after all. Given that we received all this, if Ella gets asked to perform again tomorrow, can we really refuse?"

"Well... It wouldn’t be easy to turn that down," Ella said with a somewhat perplexed expression.

Despite her excitement about returning to the stage after a long break, Ella had a strong sense of responsibility. As the troupe leader, she couldn’t simply abandon the practice of her troupe members to dabble in another troupe’s performance.

"So, why are you telling me this now?"

"After your role ends, come straight to our seats. Instead of going to the after-party or debriefing, we could make plans for tomorrow and maybe catch up."

Ella nodded in agreement. "Alright, I’ll do that."

With that settled, Ella hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "By the way, this is unexpected."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Just that. It’s surprising to see you thinking about things like this now. Managing the troupe and negotiating with others has always been my responsibilities."

"Ah, I just had a sudden change of heart."

"Hmm. You should ask for my help more often, even in regular situations."

At that moment, a bell rang, signaling that the performance was starting in three minutes. The actors in the waiting room rushed out.

"I’ll be back soon," Ella said and joined the other actors on stage.

I watched her retreating figure for a moment. "You seemed quite anxious earlier."

Only Mare and I remained in the waiting room. She smirked and looked at me.

"What do you mean?"

"I noticed you were worried about Ella."

"It’s not my place to worry about her. Ella is intelligent and talented..."

"I guess you were worried about her getting involved with the Count’s role and the kissing scene?"

Mare’s words left me speechless.

Did I do that?

For that reason?

No, I had something important to say.

"Oh, my words aren’t implying anything untoward or any such nonsense. I just thought that your concern... It somehow resembled a father worrying about his daughter."

I chuckled inwardly at her words.

She was attaching meaning to things randomly.I could give a rat’s ass about her words!

She was just a piece necessary for my game strategy. To gain favour and boost my abilities, to help me complete quests.

I had no personal concern for her.

The only thing I trusted was the ’favorability’ indicator displayed in my status window.

"Heh, Ella is a capable assistant ringmaster. There’s no room for other personal emotions."

"Oh, I see. I’m sorry if it seemed that way. It just felt that way because of my circumstances."

Mare smiled bitterly.

What an odd conversation out of the blue.

I was puzzled, thinking about her setting, and silently sighed.

Mare, the choreographer.

She had a hidden backstory.

She was the concealed daughter of Yug Maroine, the director of the Rose Windmill.

Both she and Maroine himself knew this fact.

But this stubborn woman and him had never revealed it to each other until the moment of their deaths.

Resentment towards her father for abandoning her as a child and her father’s guilt for abandoning his young child.

Their intertwined destinies revolved around protecting each other, even as they transformed into monsters.

Using that pattern to shield each other made it easy for players to exploit them, and their continuing affection for each other despite their monstrous transformations touched players’ hearts and evoked sympathy for the fact that they had been unable to be honest in their lifetime.

Well, it didn’t matter.

All of that was something that happened in TT2.

It had nothing to do with the present.

Especially, the pity for parents who abandoned their children.

It was a story that was difficult to empathize with in the slightest.

Was there any way to use their relationship to easily advance through the preliminary round?

That was my only concern.

I watched the performance from the audience seats.

But around the end of Act 1,

I still couldn’t calm down at all.

The anxiety was growing.

It was strange.

At this point in time, I couldn’t predict anything.

There were six theatres’ stories that I knew of, and they all happened in the TT2 timeframe.

There was no reason for me to worry here in Luz.

"You mean they kissed?"

"Oh, yes. In the middle of Act 2. It’s the scene where the maid pleads with the departing Count not to take the princess."

Silly.

I could be sure of it.

I knew how to look at myself objectively.

I didn’t have such emotions.

But why was I feeling so anxious?

"Oh, hehe, even though she says no, he keeps touching my butt..."

"Sigh, that nobleman is at it again. He keeps doing that on stage whenever Director Maroine isn’t around."

Backstage.

Conversations between actors and staff.

When I approached, 14-year-old Shaila, who played the "princess," entered the dressing room with tears streaming down her face.

A young dancer who was still in the corridor looked at her with pity.

Paris was standing next to her, looking helpless.

"That human is trying to do that again? Filthy bastard. Keeps touching the kids."

"In Act 2, we brought Ella. I feel ashamed for bringing her here. Where’s Mr. Maroine? He wasn’t like this when he was under his watch, was he?"

"I heard Ivonne is back to her senses. But she keeps looking for Mr. Maroine?"

"Why?"

"I don’t know. She keeps saying weird things. That a ghost tried to kill her or something."

I shivered in that moment.

I finally realized the source of my unease.

A ghost.

Eureka!

***

The theme of TT2 was art and madness.

Enchanted by the idea of inspiration, artists who were captivated by gems imbued with the spirit of Wonderstein. Their insanity is at the core of TT2.

However, amidst this, there were relatively sane individuals.

In the six cities with six theatres, they acted as allies to the players.

At the Rose Windmill Cabaret.

The ally here was a man known as the "Ghost."

His face had been disfigured in an accident when he was young, and he always concealed it with a white mask. Despite his exceptional talent in art and architecture, he had hidden away inside the Rose Windmill’s building due to the scars on his face.

One day, he discovered a young talent named Shaila.

Every night, he would visit her bedroom and teach her singing, dancing, and acting.

As a "Guardian Angel."

And he retired a senior woman who stood in Shaila’s way and unalived a vile senior man who kept touching her body in an accident.

At first, Shaila had thought of him as an angel, but as she gradually learned the truth, she became frightened and distanced herself from him.

Amidst all this, the TT2 incident unfolded.

The characters appearing as allies of TT2 were all somewhat twisted individuals.

Why weren’t they as mad as other artists? The director of the series answered this question like this:

"They were already mad."

Ironically, it was because they were already tainted by madness that they could resist Wonderstein’s madness.

"That woman provided beautiful substances for my face. Giggles. The melted appearance was quite appealing."

"That guy who touched my little bird. I made sure he could never do such things again, made him flat."

In the 1st hall of the Rose Windmill Cabaret, behind the highest frame.

The masked man stood there.

In front of his eyes was a large lamp responsible for the stage lighting.

Two of the three iron chains supporting the lamp had already been cut.

The lamp swayed, but it didn’t go out.

He intentionally chose a lamp with the lights turned off.

And just below, in a perfect position for his intended target to stand alone.

He held a cutter in his hand.

The thick iron chains were also something that could be cut with enough force.

He had already cut two of them that way.

If he cut the remaining one in time...

"Please stop."

The voice came from behind.

The masked man, the Ghost, turned around.

There stood a handsome dark-haired man in a black suit with a cape.

A smile adorned his lips.

"Derek."

His lips called the Ghost’s name.

Why?

It should be a name that no one knows.

Could it be...

Could it be... my little bird?

"The show must go on."

Wonderstein’s cape fluttered.

There, the Ghost began to question his choices.

Hiding away to conceal a horrifying appearance?

He realized that there was a presence on Earth even more horrifying than himself.