The Freak Show Foreman

Minova continued with similar ramblings several more times.

It was a detailed explanation of how the wild and aggressive fighter, who used to shoot through the world without hesitation, ended up folding his wings and staying with them. He described in detail how his beak and claws, once used to torment others, were broken.

’Minova harbors a vague anger towards the world and jealousy towards others, with nowhere to vent his resentment.’

So much detail has been omitted in his description.

I silently criticized the indifference of the Tril Trilo production team.

"Is it okay to reveal such personal matters to someone you’ve just met? Especially if it’s a story you haven’t told your daughter. What if I use this as a weakness?"

At that moment, his expression, which had seemed carefree, became rugged.

His warm gaze flashed sharp, like that of a predator.

"Hey, you… are you going to tell Ruelle?"

A mix of hot breath and growling came out of his mouth.

A fierce light that only someone who had experienced all the ups and downs of back alleys could emit flickered in his eyes.

I was surprised internally but, thanks to the smiling man, I could maintain a calm appearance.

I raised both palms and shrugged.

"Haha, there’s no way. I won’t tell anyone. But we were talking about curing Ruelle’s disease, weren’t we?"

Upon my words, he made a surprised expression.

His attitude wasn’t that of someone making a request.

I bit my tongue silently.

Even if he softened because of his daughter, it seemed his fiery temperament hadn’t disappeared.

The crazy brawler didn’t vanish from the world that day.

He scratched his head, which still had a mohawk, as if thinking deeply.

"Uh, sorry… I didn’t realize my old habits were resurfacing unconsciously…"

"It’s okay."

As I shrugged my shoulders, he looked at me with a slightly admiring gaze.

"Your skills are impressive, but your courage is remarkable too. When I spew out my anger, everyone freezes in shock…"

"A person imitating a crazy fighting rooster is not as intimidating as you think."

At my joke, he sighed deeply and shook his head.

"Ugh. This attire, seriously…."

At that moment, Ruelle’s scream echoed.

"N-No, don’t look!"

Minova’s head snapped back like lightning, still wearing the fierce expression of a fighting rooster he had just demonstrated.

I turned my head towards the source of the crying.

A child, sitting on the floor, holding her head and sobbing.

The three of the members of my group, exchanged awkward glances as they surrounded her.

Ruelle’s animal-themed pajamas were far from ordinary. Rich yellow fur covered it, with chicken-foot-shaped shoes on the legs, wing decorations on the arms, and a hood resembling a chick’s head, allowing it to be worn like a mask.

It was more like a costume for a doll than pajamas.

The first time I saw her, I even mistook her for a chick doll.

But now, the hood covering the part resembling a chick’s head was removed.

"Don’t look!"

Ruelle shouted with a voice mixed with tears.

Her head, hidden beneath the hood, was revealed.

Whispers could be heard from all around, gossiping about her.

According to Minova, she was over four years old.

However, her hair was sparse, resembling that of a newborn or an elderly person.

She clutched her hair and whimpered, "Uwuu," shedding tears.

She was a girl, not a boy.

Could that be a symptom of the disease too?

"R-Ruelle…."

Ella stood by her side, unsure of what to do.

In her hand was the chick head that Ruelle had been wearing.

It seemed like she did it out of curiosity or mischief, unveiling something the girl wanted to hide.

"S-Sorry. I didn’t know…."

Ella quickly put the chick mask back on Ruelle’s head.

Then, she took out a handkerchief, wiped away the tears on the girl’s cheeks, and comforted her with a trembling voice.

Minova let out a deep sigh.

Seemingly relieved that his daughter hadn’t suffered any harm.

"Because of a medicine called ’Milky Way’ made by the Alchemy Guild. It’s developed as a cure for the ’Curse Plague,’ but it’s said to have effects on tumor suppression as well. However, as you can see… the side effects are severe. It makes the stomach uncomfortable and sometimes causes bleeding. Losing hair is nothing compared to the pain she’s going through.

Oh, of course, the child is most saddened by the loss of her hair…."

He embraced the exhausted Ruelle, who had cried a lot and lost her energy.

She seemed frail, and even this much seemed to quickly tire her, as she began to drift off to sleep.

"Ruelle… I’m sorry about earlier," Ella apologized.

Ruelle shook her head in response. "It’s okay… I’m sorry too… I screamed because I was startled…"

Ruelle smiled widely as she spoke.

"Sister, will you show me your skills in taming later?"

The answer came not from Ella but from the animals she raised. Chick climbed onto the owner’s shoulder, extending its front paws and showing a thumbs-up gesture, while Dub sat on the owner’s hat, making a V-shape with its two wings.

Sometimes, it made me wonder if those really were animals.

Without seeing what they did, Ella nodded as if she already knew.

"Yeah, they like the idea too."

"Hehe, then see you later… Goodbye, little ones…"

That way, Ruelle, with her face buried in her father’s shoulder, fell asleep.

Minova gently stroked her back and said, "A daughter is the only connection between the world and me. Without this child, the world has no value to me. I can do anything for her sake."

He repeated the last words once more.

"Anything."

I understood well what he wanted to say.

He would pay any price to cure his daughter’s illness.

I nodded, reassuring him not to worry.

"We can discuss the details after the event is over."

"Got it."

Minova and Ruelle left for their seats.

Ella stared blankly at their backs, tightly gripping the handkerchief that wiped away Ruelle’s tears.

I recognized what it was.

It was the item I picked up for her from the mansion.

"Great. Family, huh…"

Her voice contained a poignant emotion.

I could understand her feelings now.

I, too, grew up in an orphanage.

Just like she grew up in a circus school.

Most of my friends from the orphanage died when the director went crazy.

Just like she lost most of her friends to Wonderstein.

A wanderer who lost the place of birth and upbringing.

She was in a situation similar to mine.

I was about to throw some comforting words at her when I stopped midway.

I became aware of who I was.

I wasn’t the boy who survived in the orphanage anymore.

I am Wonderstein.

Her enemy.

Me comforting her would only seem like a desperate pretense.

Claiming to understand her would sound like mockery.

There was nothing I could do for her.

Just smiling silently, that’s all.

"What are you looking at?"

Ella extended her lips unevenly, glancing at me.

I shook my head.

"No, I just thought you still kept that handkerchief well. You know, at the hotel, they give you a luxury handkerchief as a gift every day."

Ella looked down at the handkerchief in her hand, then spat it out.

"It’s my mom’s heirloom."

I nodded.

I thought it might be something precious just because she said so.

"Do you have memories of your mother?"

"No. Master said so. The dying woman entrusted me to Master along with this handkerchief."

Ella suddenly frowned deeply and then shook her head as if she didn’t want to talk anymore.

I understood.

I was Wonderstein.

Not the right person to share such stories with.

In the somewhat subdued atmosphere, we took our assigned seats.

***

The preliminary event proceeded in a more subdued atmosphere than the opening ceremony.

There was no music, spotlights, or shows.

Amidst the murmur of the crowd, the organizer, Bouvalle, stood on the stage.

As an experienced host, he skillfully captivated the audience’s attention.

"What do you think is the most important thing in a performance?" he asked abruptly.

A sudden question.

Participants seemed momentarily startled, but quickly each voiced their thoughts.

Unlike an academy presentation or a corporate executive meeting, there was no one hesitating or watching their words.

They were all the people on the stage.

Accustomed to attention and living to be noticed.

They expressed their opinions without hesitation.

Some spoke about acting skills,

some mentioned the importance of the script.

Someone emphasized individual talents and skills,

while another argued that originality was crucial.

Bouvalle listened quietly, nodding his head.

"Yes, everything you’ve said is important. However, I think the most crucial thing is…"

He drew a circle with his thumb and forefinger, revealing a slight smile.

"Money."

A sense of disappointment and ridicule passed through the participants.

Yeah, money is important.

Without it, how can you stage a performance?

But what’s the big deal?

This is a competition, right? Shouldn’t you freely showcase your skills regardless of money?

Come to think of it, why did a manager take charge of today’s event? I thought Director Maroine would be here.

Bouvalle remained unfazed by the hostile attitude of the people.

Those who considered themselves artists were always like this.

They would get angry if you openly talked about money in their creative activities.

These naive individuals who didn’t know how the world worked.

Nevertheless, Bouvalle found it pleasing that at least one person at each table was calmly listening to his words.

Even without checking name tags, it was evident. They were probably the leaders of each circus troupe.

After all, dealing with ’management’ must be a headache for them every day.

"Oh, the young one over there seems to understand, despite her age."

The young deputy head of the Wonderstein Circus.

It was known that she got along well with his employees.

She was also the possessor of the talent that Director Maroine coveted.

Could she possibly understand management too?

"Hmm, does it sound a bit vulgar when I say money? Then shall I say ’success’?"

The commotion subsided a bit.

Bouvalle wore a satisfied smile.

"When I talk about success here, I’m not simply referring to attracting a large audience."

He pointed his finger at the snacks and drinks on each participant’s table.

"I mean, me. I’m a liquor seller. Haha, it’s okay. It’s not a wrong statement. In fact, the majority of our theater’s revenue comes not from admission fees but from what people consume. The entrance fee is just enough to cover the basic expenses.

Sometimes we even give away tickets for free."

Free admission tickets.

Profits from what people eat and drink.

Both Wonderstein and Ella recalled the same memory.

When they came to see the Rose Windmill Circus in the past, wasn’t it because of free admission tickets?

It sounded good being free, but they ended up spending a lot at the food stands.

"Free to Enter, Pay to Enjoy."

A smile formed on Bouvalle’s lips.

"How much profit can you generate when the entrance fee is free?"

He spread his arms wide.

Thud, thud, applause!

With the same lively movements seen during the opening ceremony, Bouvalle lightly tapped the stage like an excited calf.

Then, behind him, a long scroll unravelled from the ceiling to the floor, displaying the title he had just revealed.

He shouted towards the participants.

"That is the challenge of this test!"