That first fight was fun to watch. Two-hundred fighters enter and only fifty survive. Well, technically more survived, but only fifty were able to continue fighting. Boriss did remarkably well. He rushed the center like an idiot, and then began beating down the other idiots that also rushed the center. Then, when the slower guys arrived, the bodies lying around Boriss intimidate them from engaging the exhausted Russian.

Now, one problem did arise, and that was in regards to Gino. Three [Gladiators] tried to take the man down- to the point of even ignoring one-another. That shouldn’t happen unless there is a reason for it. As for the reason, I have a good idea in regards to who it might be.

Reaching the Flamingo district, I’m once again reminded of a redlight district. The place is vibrant, happy, with plenty of dancing women at the windows- next to stores that sell objects of lust.

I ignore such distraction and find my way to the [Gang Leaders] estate that I”d visited before.

Maybe a more indirect route would be better.

Going around the building, I find oddly placed steps that lead up to a window all the way up above. The steps couldn’t support a human, but they could easily support a cat.

Probably for Tiera to return covertly- or I guess her real name is Faelisa.

Ascending up the steps, the smell of Faelisa hits my nostrils, enforcing my hypothesis that she uses these steps in cat-form. When I reach the apex, I crawl through a small kitty-door to a bedroom smothered in her scent.

“Nice room,” I say aloud. I search the room for a moment and find nothing of actual interest. She’d not been here for the whole day.

Flipping the lock and opening the door, I walk outside to the rather cozy hallway. The place is warm and inviting. Not the kind of inviting you’d see at a brothel, but more along the line of a wooden home with a nice fireplace. I can already imagine myself sitting down on a recliner and reading a hardcover book using the light from the burning logs.

Then I smell it. Garlic, onions, vegetables, and a good deal of meat.

I guess milk isn’t exactly filling. I am kinda hungry.

Following the smell, I arrive at what seems like a kitchen. Peaking in, I see a woman with brown hair in a ponytail, green eyes, and the most concentrated expression I’ve seen in quite some time. Even as the door squeaks open, the woman continues stirring the pot. Even as I get on the counter, she doesn’t even realize my presence.

“You’re an odd one.” I say.

The woman freezes at my words. Her head tilts slowly to me, followed by several blinks.

“Yes, I can talk. No, I’m not a druid. Yes, my fur is very soft. And yes, you can pet me so long as you feed me right after.”

The woman stares at me for a long moment. Then she slowly nods, steps to me, then strokes my back with her hand.

I blink, a bit floundered at the oddness of the action. Logically, there should be some kind of conversation, hell, even proper hesitation. But no, the woman went from listening, to a nod, then petting.

“Do you have a name?” I ask while she strokes my gloriously fluffy fur.

“Julia.” She says absentmindedly.

I pause, frown, and then look up. “Gino’s sister?”

Her petting stops at my question.

“You know my brother? Is he well?” She asks in a rather neutral tone. Maybe there is some worry there, but it’s difficult to sparse. It’s like I'm playing poker with a robot.

“For the most part. He plans to buy your freedom.”

“How will he do that?”

“Gambling.”

Julia frowns. “Gambling is a game for the very wealthy or the very foolish.”

“Or the very lucky.” I add.

She removes her hand from my fur. Opens a cupboard, takes a bowl, and then fills me a bowl of stew. “Will this be an acceptable payment?” She asks in complete and utter sincerity.

“Mostly.” I answer. “I just need a bit of information.”

She nods. I move to the bowl and lick the broth- finding it similar to Dana’s, but lacking some unique flavor. “Do you know where Jonathan is? I need to talk to him.”

“Master Jonathan should be in his office at this time.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“I see. Where is his office exactly?”

“Down the stairs and to the far right. His office is at the end of the hallway.”

“Good to know. I’ve another question. How is Jonathan treating you?” I ask.

“I am a servant. How he treats me is his own prerogative.”

That’s a fucking odd answer.

“Let me rephrase that question a bit. Is Jonathan treating you with kindness and Respect? Or is he beating you constantly? Does he have any plans for you?”

“He does not beat me, nor does he show kindness. I think he respects me for my worth- though that may also have recently changed.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“Previously, his plans were to sell me off because I am a virgin. Until yesterday, I was being schooled on the proper way to pleasure men. Now, I have been delegated to cooking.”

Huh. Seems like Jonathan is actually following the deal.

“Good, good. You sit tight and keep cooking, I’m going to converse with Jonathan for a bit.” I hop off the counter.

“Wait!” She yells, the calmness leaving her like flickering a switch. “You haven’t eaten your stew.”

“It’s too hot. I’ll come back when it cools,” I explain.

Her demeanor quickly returns to neutral. She nods. “Then I’ll make sure nobody touches it while you are gone.”

“Thank you, and I’ll see you later, Julia.”

I head out of the kitchen, down the stairs, across the hall, and then stop right outside Jonathan's room. I place my head to the door and try to listen, but I hear no sound, not even gusts of wind.

Either nobody is inside or it’s runed.

Hopping and pulling the handle, the door slides open and I quickly rush in.

Jonathan hears the squeaking of the door. When he looks, a cat walks in. “Faelisa, you’re here ear-” he stops when he realizes it’s not her.

“Jonathan, buddy, pal.” I hop on top of his office table, the same one I was on yesterday. “We need to talk.”

Jonathan folds his arms together. “I believe our dealings were completed yesterday.”

“They were, but the deal was under the idea of fair-play. You see, Gino’s fight today involved three [Gladiators] specifically targeting the kid. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?” I ask with a smile.

“Vulturan Gallinae placed a five-hundred trist bounty on Gino to be awarded to whoever defeats him in the tournament.”

I blink… then grimace. Either this guy is an incredible liar or my first instinct is wrong.

“Not you? Why would Vulturan place a bounty on Gino? Why five hundred? What does he gain from it?”

Jonathan leans back. “To get the boy back under his thumb again.”

“And if the kid dies?”

The man shrugs. “Then nobody else can use the kids' talent.”

“Five hundred trist seems like a pricey risk to pay.”

Jonathan raises an eyebrow. “Do you not know what makes Gino special?”

“Other than his obsessive drive to save his sister?” I ask.

The [Gang Leader] stares at me for a second, as though debating in his head. Eventually, the decision is reached.

“Very few know this, but Gino has the skill [Hide Presence]. It’s a skill common to advanced class [Assassins] and [Thieves]. Having the skill at his level is nearly unheard of.”

“Oh… well, shit. That’s not going to be useful in the tournament.”

“Which is why I’m not worried about our deal. He’d have to survive to the fifth round to make enough for his sister's freedom. That’s very unlikely for a [Rogue]. Though, if he does make it that far,” Jonathan smiles slightly, “then I guess he deserves it.”

“You don’t seem too bothered about losing significant profit.”

The [Gang Leader] sighs. “I used to be an orphan when I was young. Then I join the gang and became a dancer.. I worked and trained hard, for long grueling hours every day. I made friends, enemies, and struggled up the ranks of the gang. Now I sit as its leader.”

He leans forward. “Let me just say I have a fondness for those who struggle to do what many believe impossible. If Gino gets the money, then I hold no grudge if he buys his sister's freedom.”

Huh. I was not expecting that level of reasonability. Usually, gangs tend to be pretty cutthroat.

“You’re a pretty reasonable guy. Now I feel kinda bad for bothering you. I guess I should expected this sooner, what with you ordering Julia to cook for you.”

Jonathan groans. “Is she in the kitchen again? I told her to just stay in her room.”

“Something wrong?”

“Yes, that woman is wrong in the head. I’ve never heard a servant get upset at me for not giving them enough work.”

“Yea, that sounds wrong- but also positive for you, right?”

“I find it aggravating. I treat the Flamingos with respect. One of those ways is to make sure that they don’t feel like I have a boot on their neck. I give them a good degree of freedom, which I offered to her as well.”

“And she refused?”

“Yes, and then demanded more work. I told her no and to go to her room. And ever since then, she’d go to the kitchen and make food for everyone in my estate.”

“I’m very confused right now. Did you try to punish her?”

“For what, cooking? I’m not a [Barbarian]. If she wants to cook, she can so long as she knows she can rest when she wants.”

I stand up and stretch. “Well, it’s time for me to go. My fears have been alleviated and I now can eat stew and go home.”

“You’re not going to meet with Vultura about the bounty?”

“Nope. That guy is Gino’s problem. All I did was beat up his cat.”

I hop off the desk and wave a paw goodbye. I leave the office and close the door like a good kitten that I am. Then I rush back upstairs.

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