"You sure about this? I know more interesting celebs for you to visit, brother." the tout rambles as he fires up his old sedan. I settle into the backseat, the leather creaking in protest at my weight.
"Just need to satisfy my curiosity about something." I shrug while trying to get comfortable, "Heard that Padu used to be a big star in the pro wrestling circuit. Back in the day."
The tout frowns as he racks his memory, hands working the steering wheel on instinct.
"Sure. Padu the Beast. He was champion or something, then a match went wrong." the tout finally manages to recall, "Padu was forced to retire after that. But I reckon he was lucky at the end of the day."
"Huh. How so?" I quirk an eyebrow up, eager to hear what happened to Padu after our unfortunate run in with each other.
"Got caught up in some kind of natural disaster." the tout explains as he drives through Pay 2 Win's main thoroughfare, "Plenty of people died but someone managed to help Padu escape."
"Yeah. Sounds about right." I sigh and reflect on my experiences in the Fat Man's reconciliation. So public knowledge of Padu disappears after his encounter with me. But he did more or less survive the Starfall detonation. That's a good thing, at least. But it raises the question. Why am I taking the risk to visit Padu, especially in light of Breath's warning not to leave the Peace Hill district?
I chew my lip unhappily, realizing there's no good answer to that question. Put it to a gut feeling when I saw Padu's name in the tout's book after the botched time travelling assassination attempt on me. Padu's probably not involved in the assassination attempt but Padu's also the closest thing I have to a lead on the Fat Man. Given how much the Fat Man was a fan of Padu, they might have kept in contact throughout the years. Even if that fails, I could still pump Padu for information on the Starfall detonation and more importantly, the location of where we had fought our match.
The sight of the Fat Man's doppelganger disappearing through that mysterious door in the diner still nags at me. My eyes don't lie. A door to another world. A world where people endlessly die and yet live to fight again.
"Salvation." my fist clenches reflexively. This is the first inkling of concrete proof that the path to salvation exists. Meeting my fated end does not need to equal my death.
"You say something?" the tout asks as the car meanders its way through traffic.
"Nothing." I grunt in dismissal, not willing to dwell on the subject any further. Thinking about my fated end does the temper no favors. I return to looking out of the car's window, taking in the sights of Pay 2 Win.
We've left the Peace Hill district well behind us now. In fact we're heading towards where the bus had dropped me off when I first arrived at Pay 2 Win. The traffic begins to snarl up again, held up by a commotion going on further down the road.
"Damn. I was hoping to avoid this." the tout raps the car's steering wheel in annoyance as we join the slow procession of vehicles crawling along, "You might want to take out your camera though. We'll be coming up on one of the town's more, uh, unusual attractions."
Attractions? I shake my head in confusion, digging up my recollection of the area. The only thing remotely interesting in the neighborhood is the statue of The Three, the founders of the three basic classes adventurers still train in today. But that hardly counts as a major enough attraction to warrant all this traffic.
Squinting my eyes into the distance, I see a large crowd had gathered around a statue. But its not a statue of The Three. And more surprisingly, I recognize the person portrayed by the statue.
"Aga Khan?" I mutter in amazement, thinking back to one of the photos mounted on the wall of Bar Boggs. The disapproving stone gaze of the formidable looking old man stares back at me, no worse for wear after his encounter with the missing Grandmaster.
"Don't be fooled by how deserted this place was when you first arrived." the tout rattles in the background, "The statue of Aga Khan might not be all that popular but the disciples hold their service here once a week. That's the big attraction."
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"You consider this a religious service?" I shoot back in bafflement. A disciple is standing in front of the statue with a loudhailer, daring tourists to "challenge the fire of Baiji". In front of the statue is a length of burning coals where tourists gingerly perform the fire walk. And all around us are stands set up by the Disciples, distributing flyers or selling refreshments. The whole setup reminds me of the sensorium, where monks were unashamedly selling shit as part of their religion.
"Well, its all in good fun." the tout gestures vaguely, "Can't take god too seriously all the time you know. Especially when gods literally walk the earth these days."
"Since when did that happen? Gods walking the earth?" I snort at the ridiculous claim, watching on as a group of giggling teenage girls start the fire walk, mincing their way across the coals.
"I've got a god in my car right now, brother." the tout grins back as traffic slows to a stop.
"Please." I fold my arms, shaking my head as a Disciple in a hooded robe raps on the window, offering to sell me a pinch of sacred ashes, "Flattery will not get you a tip."
"I'm serious brother." the tout insists while animatedly waving an arm about, "I read somewhere that in the pre Starfall days, no one had any special powers."
"OK." I nod along, "Doesn't make adventurers gods though."
"Think about it. The old legends." the tout elaborates, "Children of gods having super strength. Being able to fly. Shoot fire from their hands. We're living in the age of legends right now. No wonder most countries fell apart."
"Uh, I think the world getting blasted with exotic radiation had more to do with that." I demur, "No need for government when there's nothing to govern."
"So who governs Crossroad City? Adventurers. Gods." the tout triumphantly states, "And look at the Disciples ruling the roost here in Pay 2 Win."
"Crossroad City has a government." I point out archly.
"When the only thing you're doing is keeping the trains running on time," the tout shoots back, "you're governing shit."
"Guess so." I reluctantly agree. As cynical as the tout might sound, he's also correct. Real power in Crossroad City is wielded by Phoenix Guild, not the city's government.
"Hey!" the tout winds down the driver's window and calls out to one of the Disciples hawking refreshments, "Corn in a cup. You want something Adam?"
"Already ate breakfast. Thanks for the offer anyway." I shake my head, going back to people watching. The tout hands over a crumpled bill to the Disciple and receives a steaming cup of corn in return. I watch in amazement as the tout just dunks the cup's contents down his mouth, consuming the food regardless of how hot it must be.
"You're going to get mouth ulcers doing that." I grimace in sympathy.
"The corn's cooked using their sacred fire or something." the tout says after a few good chews, "I've never been hurt by the heat. And they say eating the corn hot is good for your health. There's some kind of blessing attached to it."
"Have you even seen the Disciples?" I'm completely shocked at how unaware the tout is, "They're all covered in burn scars. Who knows what that food is doing to your insides."
"I no longer need medication for my blood pressure." the tout nods sagely.
"What?" I nearly stare a hole into the back of the tout's head.
"Ever since I started eating the corn, my high blood pressure disappeared." the tout continues, "That's good enough for me."
I go back to grunting noncommittally, hoping that we can leave this congestion behind us. My faith in the food served by the Disciples had plummeted to a new low, the last thing anyone should want in their food is unknown magic. And that's my professional opinion as a sorcerer.
The loudhailer guy by now has stopped inviting people to do the fire walk and instead makes his way to a small lectern placed nearby. A voluminous tome has been placed on the lectern and the Disciple begins thumbing through it with purpose.
"The sermon is about to start." the tout observes, "You sure you don't want anything, Adam? All the vendors are going to leave soon."
Sure enough, all around me I see the hawkers packing up their wares. A pair of Disciples shoo off the last of the fire walkers before pouring gasoline on to the coals, turning it into a ferocious blaze. The serious business is about to start.
"Might as well get a souvenir." I relent but not because the tout just won't shut up about me buying something. The hooded Disciple keeps hanging out near the car, flashing his urn of sacred ashes and trying to score a sale.
Full marks for effort. Are these guys getting paid on commission? I wind down the window and shove a crumpled bill at the hooded Disciple. The bill is quickly snatched from my hand, as if he was afraid I was going to get second thoughts. The Disciple then opens his urn and begins slowly ladling out the sacred ashes into a small cloth pouch, painstakingly measuring how much of the stuff he's selling me. As if that ash is worth more than gold.
That ritual completed, the pouch is dropped into my waiting hand, surprising me with how much it weighs. The hooded Disciple closes up the urn again and shuffles away without a word.
"Ashes. Popular choice." the tout affirms, "And the traffic is also clearing up, nobody wants to listen to boring religious tracts after all. We should make good time to Padu's home from here on out."
I nod absently, feeling up the pouch of ashes. There's something extra in the pouch, something hard. No wonder it feels so heavy. Opening the pouch, I dig my fingers through the ash, questing for the item. The car picks up speed, flying over a hump and my grip on the pouch loosens. The ashes tumble out, scattering over my trousers, the mystery gift along with it.
A single rifle bullet.