Chapter 24:

So Very Happy

Scorpion In The Pendulum

November 30th—Osaka, Kakogawa Ward.

Surrounded by the small coffee shop’s walls, Sarai rested his head on the counter. His tired expression hinted at the exhaustion of a long workday.

Suddenly, a chime echoed from the door.

It was Malik who stood by the entrance and yelled, “Sarai-kun, we’re heading to the circus festival. I’ll drive us there.” His voice was strong and warm.

Sarai lifted his head from the counter and immediately took off his green apron. “Ah! Okay, Malik-san, I’ll get ready,” he muttered.

Festival day… I’m very excited. Once alone again, a faint, innocent smile painted Sarai’s face, driving away his fatigue.

He hung his apron on a multi-hook rail and picked up his black coat. He then hurried to the toilet to wash his face. Afterward, he grabbed a hairbrush and fixed the messy strands of his hair.

I’m glad I got a haircut. I hate long hair. It’s much better this way. He left.

…

Dotonbori, now filled with immeasurable crowds, was an arena of neon, aimless chatter, and most importantly, clowns.

Along the streets—especially near the famous canal—patchwork tents were scattered, offering people magic tricks, tarot performances, and games for pocket change.

Many were dressed as clowns, while a few went as far as dressing as jesters. Kids begged their parents to paint their faces or wear masks and makeup, while others cried at the overwhelming sight.

Beneath the fireworks that sparkled across the cradling sky, Sarai, Mitsu, Enji, Malik, and Eiri walked through the streets.

Sarai’s eyes roamed, focusing on every detail. It was his first time attending a festival.

Whoa… What caught this young man’s attention the most was the tricksters’ boats that crowded the famous canal like a pirate crew.

“Sarai-kun, wanna paint your face like that kid?” Enji said, pointing at a passing child.

“Seriously?” Sarai’s brows furrowed.

“C’mon, enjoy your youth! You’re the only minor here.” Enji then approached Eiri, who was trembling like a leaf in autumn due to her social anxiety. “How about you, Eiri-chan? You’re not a minor, but you sure look like one. Let’s get that cute face painted!”

Malik punched Enji and yelled, “Quit bullying her, Enji!”

“Huh? Guess someone wants his face painted.” The two bumped foreheads for a brief moment before Mitsu lost her temper and punched them both to the ground.

There we go, a collective ass-beating. To think these goofballs are dangerous spies.

“N-No more punches! I’ll paint my face, I promise!” Enji begged Mitsu.

He was nearly in tears when he walked out of the tent, his face painted white.

“Talk about a clown. Haha!” Sarai couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“You little shit…” Enji chased after Sarai, mimicking a part-time jester for the crowd.

Watching the two return to their usual dynamic, Mitsu’s lips curled into a genuine, warm smile.

She knocked them both down.

…

Behind the red curtains of the stage lay a space that smelled of wood, dust, and face powder.

The absence of lighting would blind the untrained eye from spotting the countless clowns hiding deep in the shadows. Some hung from the strings lining the area near the roof, while others fused with the red curtains as if they were mere illusions.

Dressed in a white clown suit striped with black, Scarnetti stood at the center. Before him, Aliskra was clad in the same red dress as before, her bare feet reddened by the cold.

He swept his dark-blue hair back. “How do I look?”

“Like a clown,” Aliskra responded. Her voice was unusually cold and lifeless, while her scarlet eyes shone in the darkness like enchanted rubies.

“You’re not helping me.” Scarnetti removed his gold-rimmed glasses and handed them to her. He snapped his fingers.

In response, one of the many clowns approached, offering him a silver rapier.

Scarnetti seized the weapon, gripping it tightly before thrusting it through his nose in a fluid motion. He pulled it out, and the flowing blood fused with his face, mutating into magical face powder that painted the visage of a clown.

Thud. Thud. He stepped toward the red curtains, about to emerge onto the stage, face-to-face with the sea of people already yelling impatiently.

…

Inside the Osaka Grand Theatre, not a single chair in the auditorium was left empty. At the center of the fourth row, Sarai sat between Mitsu and Eiri.

“They’re taking their sweet time—oh, never mind,” Enji sighed, just as a dark-blue-haired performer finally appeared on the stage, a microphone held in his right hand.

He raised it to his mouth.

“Beloved believers of God.”

He spoke.

“Today’s a tradition that reminds us of who we are…”

“…of who we chose to be…”

“…and of who we choose to remain as.”

The sea of people clapped their hands at his words as whistles of praise and prayers from all religions echoed across the auditorium.

“Once again, just like worms, the Faithful crawl into the ground, hiding beneath beliefs they themselves do not value.”

“Allowing the Devil to blind them, they play the victim when they themselves have always rebelled against God Almighty.”

The same fucking bullshit as always. With his hands resting on his thighs, Sarai clenched them in hatred at the man’s provoking words.

Rebellion against this man-made god of yours is a thousand times better than having a collar around my neck.

“Faithful Magic is a blessing by God. Do not suppress God’s gift to humanity, they say.”