The next early morning, Straf snaps out of his meditative trance. He looks outside the window, the streets are still mostly dark, and only illuminated by the glow of streetlights.
「Stats.」
Straf utters out, and looks at the numbers on the screen that appears before his face.
Strength: 168 ▲ Perception: 27 ▴
Agility: 124 ▲ Endurance: 158 ▲
Dexterity: 144 ▲ Willpower: 66
Luck: 391 Intelligence: 52 ▴
Charisma: 220 ▴ Wisdom: 60 ▴
「Huh. Those willpower gains are not bad. I'll reach 100 and beyond in just a moment. I feel bad for the sucker, who'd have to sit under a waterfall for weeks for this shit.」
He shrugs and jumps off his bed, stretching out a little, twisting his torso around. He dismisses the status screen, and heads out the door. He closes it behind him, and locks it with his key. Straf then walks up to Cycelia's door, leans on the doorframe, and raises his fist to the center of the door…
「Straf?」
The door swings open, and Cycelia stands in the doorway. Straf lowers his hand, the hallway's flickering candlelight from the sconces makes shadows dance on his handsome, serious face.
「What a coincidence, I was about to wake you up. Ready to leave, Lia?」
Straf asks, leaning onto the doorframe with his shoulder with his arms crossed, looking down into Cycelia's emerald-green eyes.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
「Uh. Yeah.」
Cycelia begins her reply by nodding slightly, still surprised by Straf's face in front of him. Realizing it's probably not enough, she nods her head furiously and mumbles an answer out. Straf nods his head once, and bounces himself off the doorframe, turning towards the stairs to below.
「Let's go head our keys in so they don't bitch about them.」
Straf says as he's walking away with his hands in his pockets, his broad shoulders swaying with each step.
「Yeah… Yeah!」
Cycelia mumbles out under her breath, barely counting as a reply. She stares at Straf with her lips lips slightly parted. She then realizes that once again, she was too quiet, and shouts back. She quickly locks the door to her room, and runs after Straf.
《Ahhh! I'm such a wretched woman! I shouldn't even have thoughts like that last night!》
Cycelia hides her blushing face in her hands, as she recalls the fantasy scenarios that were running through her mind yesterday. They make their way down the stairs, and the formerly-underpaid re-hired barmaid greets them with a smile.
「Hello again. I suppose this is the last time I'll be seeing you?」
「Yup. Probably.」
Straf throws his key on the long table she's standing behind, and shrugs.
「Ah, I wouldn't go that far, Straf. Maybe I'll stop by again in a year, after everything settles down? I had a good stay, despite everything that happened…」
Cycelia sets her key down on the table and slides it towards the barmaid. She glances at Straf momentarily, before turning her head to the barmaid and smiling. The innkeeper quickly slides into the conversation, positioning himself just behind the barmaid's shoulder.
「I'm very glad to hear that! Please, lady Lia, do tell your friends about us.」
The innkeeper nods his bald head, and rubs his hands expectantly. He nervously smiles as he glances at both Straf and Cycelia.
「It wasn't thanks to you, baldie.」
「Tsk.」
The barmaid crosses her arms, and looks at him over her shoulder that he's hovering above. He clicks his tongue and glares at her in response.
「You can be sure I'll tell the nobles that you barely pay your workers, and overwork them…」
Straf smirks, snaps his fingers and points at the bald man.
「…They'll love it. Seriously.」
Straf finishes his statement, scoffing. He turns to the exit, placing his hands back in his pockets.
「I'll mention this place if I hear someone is heading to Kreisfeld. Thanks for everything.」
Cycelia nods her head at the barmaid, who smiles and nods in response with her hands on her hips, forcing the loose-hanging dress closer to her form. Straf and Cycelia disappear behind a corner, and the door behind them swings shut…
…
Straf and Cycelia are walking down the main street, heading towards one of the exit gates out of the city. Cycelia is leading the way, with Straf only ever-so-slightly trailing beside her.
「So, how'd you like the Yakuza treatment?」
Straf asks with a grin as he glances down at Cycelia.
「Yak… What?」
She tilts her head, heavily confused by the completely foreign-sounding word.
「You know. You pay them way more than you owe them, and then they jump through hoops around you to make sure you come back. That thing.」
「Oh… That… Well, I think service at establishments like this should be good no matter how much you pay, but…」
She looks aside as she thinks for a second.
「But in the end, I think a lot of good resulted from you doing that. I mean, she'll be getting paid a lot more now.」
Cycelia turns her gaze to Straf's eyes, walking beside him as she holds her forearm in her hand behind her.
「Yeah, crazy what can happen if you can just afford to quit, isn't it? Now imagine what would happen if everyone would quit bad jobs even if they can't afford to, and nobody would be willing to sign up for bad jobs. Spiritually bald people would be scrambling to clean up their business, and they'd be unable to make larger margins on their workers.」
Straf shrugs with his hands with a wide grin.
「But, that would collapse most of the kingdom's economy, Straf…」
「Exactly! Which is why to leverage state control, you should instead hook everyone up on social welfare, and hike the minimum wage. They'll be thanking you for raising the minimum wage, not realizing that's the reason why their bread is skyrocketing in price. Isn't that funny?」
Straf chuckles as he asks.
「…Minimum wage?」
Cycelia tilts her head again, lightly furrowing her brows as she seems to grasp the concept somehow already.
「Oh boy. We need to start all the way from there, huh? Don't worry, I'll explain everything on the way. And the printing from before. It's all connected-」
Straf speaks with his index finger out. He randomly swivels around, his gaze snaps behind himself without the slightest warning.
「Son of a fucking bitch, why does this keep happening!?」
Straf shouts out angrily, his focused gaze is flying all over the street, the alleyways and the rooftops.
「You got it again!?」
「Yeah. And it's already gone. What the fuck is wrong with this city? Am I actually going insane?-」
Straf asks a rhetorical question, still looking all over with a squinted gaze.
「Mr. Straaaf!」
A young man's voice echoes out in the distance from the way they were walking.
「Ugh… Yeah, he's definitely getting listed as a side- Oh. Wow.」
Straf groans, throwing his head back while his torso is still turned around. He turns his gaze forward towards the voice, and Straf is pleasantly surprised.
「Mr. Straf! Hello again! I was hoping to find you before you leave!」
「Good morning.」
Louche and Millie greet them with a smile, though Louche is panting heavily. Straf rubs his chin as he looks at the wheelchair, now very strongly resembling a modern one, with smaller wheels than the previous version. While the front wheels don't seem to be able to turn sideways, they are much smaller than the rear wheel, and a foot extension has been mounted onto the chair's front legs.
The entire construction is visually ill-fitting to the original chair, but from an utilitarian standpoint…
「Wow. This is an actual sick sister in a wheelchair. Nice. You did it.」
Straf shrugs, smirking slightly as he looks down at the golden-haired girl.
「Morning, Millie.」
Cycelia bows down with her hands on her thighs, to better match her head level with a smile.
「I couldn't have done it without you, Mr. Straf. It even has the grips you mentioned, and a little something the wagon wright something came up with for Millie. It's the little planks she can rest her feet on!」
Louche proudly exclaims as he points down at the foot extension that Millie has her feet resting upon.
「Yeah. It's great. I wish I could take a commemorative picture. Y'know, hang it up in a Museum of Tropes.」
「Huh?」
「Forget it. You may be an incestouous little gremlin, but at least you got a real wheelchair for your sister… And while I don't approve of it, I suppose you two paired up make another trope, too.」
「What?」
Louche only grows more and more confused as Straf speaks what sounds like nonsense to him.
「Straf is not from around here. I mostly extract what he means from the context, if I don't understand his words. I think a lot of what he says means another thing in his language…」
Cycelia intervenes, and Louche's eyes widen as if he just experienced an epiphany.
「Ahhh… I see! Anyhow, I take it you are leaving the city, Mr. Straf? Where are you headed?」
「To the capital, I guess. But we're making a stop along the way.」
Already bored by the new trope, Straf shrugs with his hands on his hips.
「Really? We'll be heading to the capital as well soon! Millie's medicine is much cheaper there, but we'll have to find a new place to live.」
「Yeah, good luck wheeling your sister all the way to the capital. I think living on the streets is preferable to the lung mushroom farm you were living in.」
Straf walks off in the direction of the gate.
「See you again, Millie. Maybe in the capital?」
「Yes… Take care on your travels, your majesty.」
Cycelia bows to Millie, and nods with a smile before she takes off to catch up to Straf.
「See you Mr. Straf! I'll try to catch you there!」
Louche shouts at them as they leave, waving his hand with a huge smile.
「Okay recurrent character! Remember she's your sick sister, you sick bastard!」
Straf shouts back, only turning his head over his shoulder and adding one hand to help with the shout's propagation…
…
Less than an hour later, Straf and Cycelia are walking through a forest road in the vicinity of Kreisfeld. Straf is chuckling to himself, which attracks Cycelia's concerned gaze.
《Hahahahaha. That was genius! I thought eventually someone would catch on! I mean, it was obvious!》
With a massive grin, he keeps cackling. Cycelia continues to stare at Straf with a tight-lipped grimace.
《I mean come on, a guy doesn't bet on himself after all those rounds? And then he jobs to his opponent who did? Get a fucking clue, you fuckin' dummies!》
Straf's chuckling transforms into outright laughter. Cycelia's worry about Straf's mental state reaches its peak.
「Straf, are you feeling alright?」
She asks with worried tone and eyes.
「Hahah… Huh? Yeah, why?」
「What are you laughing about this whole time?」
Cycelia asks, tilting her head. After Straf's initial surprise that Cycelia is asking him something, his grin returns, and so does his cackling.
「Ahh… Just a little something. I basically produced a whole animated episode all by myself.」
Straf replies, as he thinks about the final match of the tournament…
…
In the arena's dark corridor leading to the battlegrounds proper…
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
「Okay… One last check to make sure I don't fuck anything up…」
Straf pulls a gold coin out, and throws it into the air. He activates his [Contextual Time Perception], increasing the factor until the coin virtually freezes in the air.
《Okay… So that's still the lowest time-freeze factor. Now let's lower it a little…》
Straf lowers the acceleration factor until he notices the coin just barely move again.
《Alright. One. Two. Three. Four. Five…》
Straf begins counting away. He counts, and counts, and counts, and counts, and counts… Eventually, the coin lands in his hand, having counted up a ridiculously large number.
《Oookay.》
He turns his ability off, restoring time to normal. He throws the coin up again.
「One… Two… Th-」
Straf catches the coin, and sighs.
「Man, this is going to suck. Whatever. I can't think of a way to break this tournament harder.」
Straf shrugs, draws his sword, and walks into the arena.
「…And there he is, ladies and gentlemen! You know him, and you seem to love him, as well! Straf! Katastrof! Vindict!」
The announcer points his palm at Straf from above. The audience goes wild, clapping and cheering as soon as he appears out of the dark hallway.
《I suppose I'll milk every single second of not having to show up the player 2.》
「As we are still awaiting contestant Sturm, who was far from being the spectators' favorite! His cautious and evasive fighting style made his matches dull for the audience, but they undoubtedly worked! Sturm has climbed to the top, and only Straf stands in his way to the grand prize of 50 gold coins!」
The announcer keeps going, further winding the audience up.
「Regardless of who wins, 10 gold coins await the bout's loser! If he survives, that is! Take your time betting, ladies and gentlemen! The betting period will be extended considerably while we await contestant Sturm! While we're at it, we have interviewed contestant Straf!」
The announcer sweeps his hand across the audience seated above.
「Here's some of his questions and answers…」
The announcer says. With his bored eyes, Straf looks for Cycelia in the audience. His brows rise.
「Huh? Where'd she go? Probably for a corndog, I guess.」
Straf shrugs his shoulders, and looks back at the announcer above. The announcer is reading through a piece of paper.
「Here's some of his questions and answers… Straf said he comes from a distant kingdom constantly at war, and plagued by horrible beasts! The among the worst ones, are those masquerading as humans such as vampires, demons, and the terrifying media! What are media, you might ask!? Brain parasites! Straf has said, that they feed on your intelligence, and render you an imbecile!」
The announcer says, and the audience gasps in shock, then applauds Straf again.
「Yeah. I still stand by that statement.」
Straf says, drowned out by the cheers, and shrugs.
「Ladies and gentlemen! Please hold your applause! Not because contestant Straf doesn't deserve it, but because I am not done yet! Most of the beasts in Straf's home are made of metal! That's right! Can you picture a horrifying monster, its very body as armor!? Straf's people had to use magic wands to fight back against them!」
The announcer points at Straf, who furrows his brows.
「Hey, I didn't say they were magic.」
Straf says, though nobody hears him due to the new applause.
「Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen! Please hold your cheers for a moment longer! I am still not done describing the horrifying environment of Straf's home!」
「Hey, what the fuck? That's uncalled for.」
Straf spreads his arms, protesting announcer's unintended jab at his home life.
「There is a flying metal monster that even Straf respects! It soars through the skies, and it kills with its noxious emissions! No wonder contestant Straf thinks the tournament is a joke, if such deadly beasts plague his home!」
「What the fuck!? I didn't say it farts people to death! I said it sounds like a fart! You made the coolest fucking thing ever sound lame! What's wrong with you!?」
Straf spreads his arms even wider, and the audience confuses it as a cue to shower him with praise. Straf clicks his tongue, drowned out by the incredibly loud cheering, stomping and whistling.
「On the other hand, we still know absolutely nothing of contestant Sturm! And it seems we may never know! Ladies and gentlemen, the betting period will be closing shortly, but we are still awaiting for contestant Straf's opponent! Surely he would not miss out the most important match of the tournament!?」
Anxious the second fighter still didn't appear, the announcer shrugs.
《Well, I guess I have no choice. I suppose I'll start the show now, and hope nobody notices the scam.》
Straf sighs, and activates [Contextual Time Perception].
《Right. This too, so they don't hear millions of footsteps down here…》
Straf thinks, as he activates [Burglar's Feet]. He quickly steps towards the other entrance, but doesn't run.
《That's it. Nice and quick, no rush, just be quick about it…》
When he reaches the darkness on the other side, he opens [Portable Storage] then pulls out a metal wolf mask and a green cloak.
《Okay, don't put it on too fast…》
Straf straps on the mask, and throws the cloak onto himself. He pulls the hood over his head, then takes a step towards the arena. He freezes in place.
《One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…》
Sturm begins counting. The number baloons up, and Sturm quickly takes his mask off. Straf throws Sturm uniform into the [Portable Storage], and walks back to where he was standing, taking note of Sturm's posture.
Once back in his original position, he counts again.
《One. Two. Three. Four…》
When he finishes counting, he walks back towards Sturm's position.
《This is going to be such a pain in the ass. I'm getting more and more respect for the animators with each frame.》
Straf thinks, and continues posing, willingly frozen in time for set amounts of time as both Straf and Sturm. Eventually, he manages to walk into the battlegrounds.
《If I wasn't a super-genius to begin with, I wouldn't be able to remember all this shit… But man, this isn't getting any easier. How long am I at it already? 10 hours? Who knows, no time to think. One. Two. Three. Four…》
Sturm begins to count up again, after donning the mask and cloak. He stares forward, unmoving, right where he was standing as Straf. After enough time passes to make it seem as if he's really standing there, Straf once again manipulates the acceleration factor and returns to his spot.
Eventually, enough time passes and the announcer throws his arms down. An extremely elongated, stretched echo of the gong begins. Straf pads the timeline of events with stillness, to ensure everyone has heard the gong.
《…Okay! That should be enough! Fuck! I'm already regretting this plan! I could have just pocketed the whole fucking box of baldie's gold and nobody would have been the wiser! But then again, where's the fun in that? Yeah, this is a lot of fucking work, but in the end, those idiots are really going to think some random guy just beat me. Heh.》
Straf and his fake opponent begin kicking the sandy dirt. It floats lazily into the air, spreading into clouds larger, and larger. After some more keyframe posing, Straf finally reaches a point where he doesn't need to walk much anymore.
《Time to make it look like I'm fighting. I've got just the thing for SFX.》
Straf opens his [Portable Storage], and pulls out two cast iron pans. He starts gently clinking them together, and they let out an extremely stretched sound.
《Should be good enough. Glad I thought of this ahead of time!》
Straf shrugs, then throws the frying pans back into the whirling hole. He takes his sword out of the air as it hangs there, as if dropped by an astronaut, and poses with his blade over his shoulder.
《One. Two. Three. Four…》
When finished, he puts the mask and cloak back on again, and simply turns around, taking a step back.
《Alright. Fuck fancy poses for this guy. It'll look cooler if it looks like he's doing nothing to begin with. One. Two…》
Sturm simply waits, the tip of his sword sticking out from underneath his green cloak. Straf then realizes something as he's taking it off.
《Hold on, what about the cloak? Isn't it a little long? Won't it flap around?- Whatever, too late. Hope nobody notices it if it does. I mean, this is kind of fucked up inhuman speeds we're talking about. Who would even be able to notice aside from me?》
Straf shakes his head, smirking as he throws his phantom of the arena set into his [Portable Storage]. He takes his pose as Straf, and the play-battle continues, as Straf kicks up so much dust, it obscures the entire arena.
《Welp. At least I can take a little break from this rapidfire cloaking and decloaking. How's my mana? I don't want to embarrass myself now- Shit.》
Straf clicks his tongue, as he sees half of his mana has been drained already. He opens his [Portable Storage], and digs around.
《Better safe than sorry. Is this it?》
『Concentrated mana potion』
[Alchemical] [Consumable]
Instantly restores 10% of maximum mana, then 90% up to a maximum of 2500 points over 5 hours.
《Over 5 hours? If I turned all my abilities off, I'd regenerate that in a minute or two. Whatever, 10% is better than nothing. Down me gullet it goes.》
Straf uncorks the potion with a pop, and chugs it down. It vaguely tastes of blueberries.
《Son of a bitch. They really taste like that, huh?》
He throws the potion back into his [Portable Storage], looking up at the thinning dust.
《Guess I can't keep stalling forever, or they'll get suspicious.》
Straf shrugs, and pulls the frying pans out again. He once again gently taps them together, leading to another set of stretched sounds. He returns them back into the purple vortex, then heads back into Sturm's place.
《One. Two. Three…》
He counts down as the smoke clears. Then, realization dawns on him.
《Wait. Shit! This is where Sturm started! I was supposed to stand on the other side as myself!- Wait, maybe they'll think it's just a part of the fight…》
Straf thinks as he walks to his own spot, and dresses up as Sturm. The announcer is saying something, and the crowd is almost frozen, only minutely moving, as Sturm kicks up dust, literally. He walks to the center of the arena, kicking the ground, then disturbs the sand all around when he reaches his position as Straf.
《I really ought to end this, I'm getting real bored of posing and it not being a reference.》
He thinks to himself, as he continues kicking the dust up towards the wall. He adds a little tap of the frying pans every few steps.
《Okay. Let's hurry this along.》
Straf re-enables his air resistance disabled by [Freedom of Movement], and flicks his hands gently with the frying pants still in them. The thick clouds of sand begin to rapidly swirl in the arena.
《That should be enough.》
He lets [Freedom of Movement] take his air resistance away once more, and begins to pose pointing his sword at Sturm, standing near the arena's wall. After only allowing the audience to catch a momentary view of the situation, he gets tired of standing still and begins to once again kick up sandy dirt in two places at once, in parallel.
《Okay. I think I have an idea how to end it with a bang, too. Hm? Aren't they a little… Vibrating?》
Straf wonders and looks at the frying pans, as he keeps tapping them together, kicking sandy dirt up in a spiral pattern around the arena as he walks leisurely.
《Guess I should drag this on for a little longer… Juuust a little. Maybe some cool poses, and then I job.》
Straf thinks, absent-mindedly tapping the frying pans together as he looks up, unable to see anything through the dirty clouds in the arena. His brows rise when he taps nothing.
《Hm?》
A piece of black metal flies past his eyes as he thinks what to do next. He looks at his hands, and he sees only shattered stumps of frying pans in them.
《What the fuck!? Not that kind of a bang! How am I supposed to create SFX now!? I only have one sword! Do I tap the mask? That's even more risky! Ah! The fucking fragments! If someone gets killed by pan shrapnel, it's fucking over! The jig is up!》
Straf starts to quickly fish fragments large and small out of the air, throwing them into the [Portable Storage] hole before they can threaten anybody.
《Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Think! New scenario!》
Straf tries to come up with something on the spot, but he notices the dust is clearing as well.
《Fuck! I'll just free-hand it!》
Straf quickly takes his positions, alternating between them as he dresses and undresses. The audience seems to be still loving his performance.
《Man, I even forgot to do a cool pose or something… Whatever! They still love it, and I've got it! I'm a genius after all!》
Straf praises himself, and disturbs more dust leading to the arena's wall. He pulls out two silver coins out of the purple vortex. He clinks them together thrice, then throws them back in.
《Okay, that's it for SFX. Now for some visuals…》
He takes his iron sword, and carefully carves chunks of rock out of the wall. He uses the pommel to crush some larger fragments into tiny pebbles and powdery rubble.
《Guess I can't rely on gravity to do its thing, huh?》
Straf looks at the carved up wall with his fists on his hips, as he fully appreciates the difficulties of stop motion animation. He carefully pulls the wall fragments out, and drops them to the floor manually.
《I really wanted to stick to the wall as a finisher. It wouldn't be impossible, but I'm so fucking through putting this stupid fucking mask on so many thousands of times, and tired of all the effort of keeping it all consistent.》
He glances at the irregular gash on the wall above him as he covers himself with the rubble from it the best he can, while paying attention to where it's placed exactly. He waits for the smoke to clear, for the audience to get a good look, then gets up and changes to Sturm's outfit.
This process repeats, with Straf covering himself in rubble and acting defeated, until the announcer unknowingly declares Straf the winner. Twice.
《Welp, there we go. Time to pick up my reward!》
Sturm animates himself leaving the arena in haste, then takes off the cloak and mask, and throws it into the [Portable Storage] for good. Straf gets up, showered with praise and cheers for the afterimage puppet show he gave to the audience.
《Man. What a band of fucking suckers.》
Straf grins, as the spectators continue clapping…