‘I was assured by those bloodsuckers that this was an easy job. Appeal to the people’s overgrown sense of self, bait them with the grand prize, ensure the game was set up right and watch as the gems rolled in. So how did it come to this?’ Kraki lamented, gnawing his nails in worry. Previously, it had been enjoyable work watching these entitled fools throw their wealth away for something they had no chance of obtaining. How often could someone like him stick it to the high class that lorded over the city?
But that had all changed when that accursed child had made an appearance. As much as he had wanted to turn the boy away, he perished the thought. He wouldn’t dare spit on the Illugi name in private, let alone when a large crowd was there to bear witness. Everyone had heard the rumours, fools that dared misspeak or challenge their authority always graced by misfortune. They truly lived up to their name, a dark fog that kept watch over all, ready to execute their master’s vile commands. So when that boy came up, he didn’t dare turn him away, lest he had a death wish which was not the case last time he checked. A choice that he has been regretting ever since.
The boy scored thirty-five points against all odds and expectations, a very respectable score. But if it were just that, he wouldn’t be at his wit’s end right now. The problem was that he figured the game out. Despite his theatrical showmanship, he kept a close eye on everyone here, the boy being one of them. He was initially confused when all the child did, was stand and observe the game, blending in with the crowd so well he would have been missed if not for a sharp eye.
However, all his questions were answered when the boy threw the first ball. The thing spun and curved in the air like nothing he had ever seen before, for a moment looking like it had a life all of its own, before completely wiping out the pyramid. Cowbells flew into the air, wailing in pain, his heart joining them soon after. People always followed those with superior ability and strength; it was one of the rules of life he had learnt at an early age, keeping him alive since then. Others would surely follow in the boy’s footsteps after displaying such a spectacular result. And it was only a matter of time before they started getting suspicious about the true nature of this game.
Seeing another pyramid getting knocked over, Kraki realised this man only needed to do it once more to win the earthbound weapons. ‘Fuck!!! Fuck!!! Fuck!!! If I lose those weapons, the Mole Whistlers will have my head!!! I beseech thee, oh revered Great Guardian!!! Deliver me from this predicament, and I will dedicate myself to your cause!!!’ he silently prayed, pleading the failsafe would hold.
A well-shaven man held the stone ball between calloused palms, eyeing the last pyramid with fervour. The luxurious fur coat draped upon his shoulders, paired with the regal aura his chiselled body exuded, pointed out that he was a warrior of some sort. All high-class families expected their descendants to keep a respectable image in the public eye, but it was more so for the warriors.
They were the sole force keeping walking death at bay, adored by all citizens, and held high authority within the city. Many took the warrior’s words as that of the house they were affiliated with, so it was of utmost importance that they acted accordingly. Of course, this didn’t stop them from abusing their power, but as long as it wasn’t outrightly egregious, most turned a blind eye.
War bitten hands fondled the round stone in anticipation as the warrior took aim at the target. Taught muscles snapped, propelling his arm forward, the ball departing on its journey at the cusp of its arc. The only proof of it ever leaving his hand was an audible sound left in its wake, reaching the climax of its spiralling trajectory in less than the blink of an eye.
BOOM!!!
Before the crowd had even registered man’s actions, the final pyramid erupted, sending splintered wood and metal shards in all directions. Peopled ducked and jumped for cover, thinking they were under assault, shouting and cursing at non-existent assailants. A timely gust of wind swept the pooling dust cloud away, revealing the warrior, standing tall, with complete confidence in himself. Gasps and exclamations soon followed those few that hesitantly got to their feet, admiring the fruits of his work. A cowbell still lived, teetering dangerously over the edge of the now ruined stand.
Kraki slowly raised his head from the turtle position that had almost become second nature, peering warily at the now ruined stall. Bits of shrapnel had torn apart anything unfortunate enough to bar their path, entrenching themselves into every conceivable area. Most of the prizes had been spared by dumb luck or merciful blessing, and though a few were ruined, it was still salvageable. There was a gaping hole in the back wall, the exit wound of the stone turned cannonball, fresh with crumbling debris. The signboard hung limply, creaking in the breeze, a reminder of the destruction wrought upon this humble stall.
The stir of the crowd broke Kraki from his stupor following their line of sight, finally noticing the teetering cowbell. It brought a tear to his eye, and he silently promised to light some incense in thanks to the Great Guardian for answering his heartfelt prayers when he got home. Just thinking about what those dirt munchers would have done to him if he lost the knives sent a shiver down his spine as he scrambled to his feet. He had to wrap this up fast while things were still in limbo, lest people start questioning the outcome.
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“Marvellous throw, sir!!! Your mastery over the earth is a sight to behold. It has been my honour to host someone such as you… Unfortunately, one bell still remains in defiance of your outstanding performance.” His verdict arrested the attention of the rest of the recovering mob, which closed in around the stunned warrior, bodies pressing up against each other for a closer look.
“I don’t believe it!!!”
“Let me through!!!”
“Stop shoving me!!!”
“Who just grabbed my bottom~.”
The increasingly rowdy crowd did nothing to abate the warrior’s embarrassment, lashing out in annoyance, “ENOUGH!!!” His outburst manifested into a ripple that sent the nearby earth roiling. For the second time today, those nearby found themselves once again on the floor, the ground seeming to have jellified.
Catching himself on the now trembling counter, Kraki sent forth another prayer, pleading for the stall to remain standing after this round of abuse. The tribulation eventually passed, his prayers miraculously being answered for a second time. Making a mental note to offer not just incense but some food as well, he quickly acted, unwilling to be subjected to any more life-threatening mishaps. “Good Sir, please do not be discouraged. For achieving the highest score today, I humbly offer these two special edition miniatures,” he brought forth two small transparent figurines, “moulded from the finest glass marble one can find,” Kraki urged with a conclusion in mind.
Grabbing the items from his outstretched arm, the warrior gave a knowing nod to Kraki, hinting that he was somewhat appeased. The crowd parted as he strode off, trailed by a few of his companions. Sighing in relief, Kraki turned to the rest, clapping to signal their attention. “Ladies and gentlemen!!! I know we are all still reeling from the feat that kind warrior graced us with, but I have some displeasing news. Sadly, the stall could not withstand his might and has taken serious damage. With the public’s safety in mind, I will be closing the stall for the remainder of the day,” the crowd groaned and booed, “I know you are displeased but do not worry. We will be up and running tomorrow, so be sure to stop by if it tickles your fancy.”
Though unfortunate, the people understood the situation, so they dispersed without much fuss. Wiping away the cold sweat that had formed on his forehead, exhaling, thankful that he managed to bring this turn of events to a peaceful end. Taking out a large sack, he started to throw in anything that still held value, intent on leaving as soon as possible. ‘Damn it, with this much collateral damage to the stall and items, I’m gonna lose most of my pay… I even had to use the special figures so that warrior could save face!!! This is all because of that damn kid!!! If I see him again, I swe—’ a knock on the side door interrupted his grumblings forcing him to stomp over and throw it open.
“WHAT!!!” he exclaimed, today’s proceedings having weathered his poise.
“That’s a rather rude greeting for one such as you, don’t you think?” a childlike voice replied. Standing there with a face splitting grin was the cause of this whole mess, causing a bad feeling to bubble in his already wearied heart.
“I apologise for the outburst. What can I help you with, little boy?”
“The same reason as everyone, I want those shiny knives,” the boy chirped while trying to take a peek behind him.
His already thinning patience made the boy’s antics all the more unbearable. Intent on stifling the conversation, Kraki responded in a tone much like when a parent disciplined their mischievous child, “Regrettably… that won’t be possible. The stall has been closed until further notice for repairs. Please leave.”
The boy paused, slowly looking up at him with a dumbfounded look. ‘Get out of here, you brat. I need to clean house and leave as soon as possible.’
Instead of walking away, head down like expected, the boy chuckled in response, “Hehekeke—I’m sorry—heheke—there seems to be a misunderstanding. I’m not asking to play your game. I’m asking for your knives.”
Kraki was perplexed; how could he have misunderstood? “Look, kid, I’m having a really shitty day. Stop wasting my time and get outta here,” he stated, shooing the boy away while shutting the door.
“Your game is rigged.” Kraki froze at those words, a veil of dread descending upon him.
But he wasn’t a seasoned conman for nothing. Reigning in his emotions that were nearly let loose, he turned back, an amiable smile on his face. “That’s quite the accusation you have there. I understand you must be upset and really want those knives, but throwing out false statements has serious consequences and will reflect badly upon your house. But as you are young and still learning the world’s ways, I will act as if I never heard a thing. Let yesterday’s disputes remain in the past and all that.”
“Cut the amicable presenter act out. I can see it from a mile away,” the boy smirked, continuing, “You use weighted cowbells to ensure no one can score fifty points. That cowbell over there being one of them,” he jabbed, pointing towards the lone cowbell that remained standing on the now smashed stand.
Each word struck Kraki like a thunderbolt from on high as he brainstormed a means of escape from this situation. “That is incorrect. All our bells are of equal weight to ensure a fair game. Young man, I warn you, if you keep insisting upon this course, I will have no option but to report it to the guards,” he cautioned in hopes of scaring the boy away.
“Tsk—why do you people insist on digging your own graves,” the boy mumbled. “Fine, since you want to make things hard on yourself, let’s wait for some guards. It won’t be too long. A few should be showing up shortly to investigate the previous... excitement, shall we say.”
Cold sweat suffused him, clothes sticking to pallid skin for a second time. ‘Fuck!!! I told them that it would be too easy to notice the weighted bells. But did they listen to me? No. And guess who has to pay for it. Me!!!’ Kraki raged, picturing himself beating his superiors for their stupidity. “Alright, fine, what do you want—and don’t say the knives they’re too valuable.”
“The… k.n.i.v.e.s,” the boy drolled in staccato.
‘I really hate this kid. Those slavers will beat me to death if I lose the knives. Giving them to him is not an option. He’s right about the guards, and I have yet to pack up all the loot…’ Kraki weighed all the options before him, eventually deciding on the one that caused him the least bodily harm. “Wait. Here,” he hissed, glowering at the innocent-looking child before heading back inside, readying his plan.