9. Black and Gold (31)
9. Black and Gold (31)
Tuesday morning, August 31st.
The day before the Rekachev entrance ceremony, everyone involved in the draft assembled in the school auditorium.
The apparatus used for the entrance exam had been dismantled.
In its place, chairs and decorations had been set up for tomorrow's ceremony.
Six professors, including the Four-person Gang, stood on the stage.
A woman in a black conical hat stepped forward as their representative.
It was the tightrope-walking professor and vice-principal, Elpara, known as the "Witch."
She noted that the principal was still away on business, offered a brief greeting, and got straight to the point.
The students' career paths had already been largely settled during yesterday's interviews.
Today, the school was acting as a notary—reviewing the contracts for irregularities and closing out the event as its host.
The troupes that had ranked lowest in the exam stepped forward first, in order.
Some of the selected recruits departed for the school, some remained with their current troupe, and others transferred to a different one.
The school officials reviewed the terms and stamped the contracts.
Aside from the trades, most of the contracts followed standard guidelines and required no close scrutiny.
The recruits took the podium one by one, reflecting on their two weeks and sharing their aspirations.
This, too, was part of Rekachev's program, so everyone dutifully delivered their remarks.
Dutifully, but the vast majority began with some variation of "under the rigorous training and benevolent guidance of our troupe leader"—regardless of sincerity.
Twenty troupes cycled through. Only two remained.
The reporters eyed the stage with keener interest than before.
This was the moment that would decide the paths of the two most talked-about figures in the competition.
Lord Fantastic had scattered breadcrumbs everywhere, and now everyone in the auditorium was watching them.
Ella and Reina.
The atmosphere around each of them could not have been more different.
Ella chatted animatedly with the Golden Carnival members, laughing now and then.
Reina, by contrast, sat silent among the Monster Circus members, offering not even a flicker of a smile.
"Looks like Ella's thoroughly smitten with Golden Carnival...."
"Reina will obviously go back to where her father is, so...."
"So Lord Fantastic's 'shocking result' was just him grabbing both of them?"
Speculation buzzed through the crowd until Reina rose from her seat.
"Reina. Don't be nervous. Just do what we practiced."
Wonderstein offered warm encouragement, but she gave no response and stepped forward.
A few reporters murmured at the sight.
"She really does think she's better than everyone else, doesn't she?"
"Wonderstein, was it? Soft-hearted man, smiling after getting snubbed by a kid like that."
Reina heard them, but she felt no anger.
She thought she deserved it.
She was an ungrateful child who couldn't recognize kindness.
I'm sorry, Troupe Leader.
I don't deserve your greeting.
In her hand was a small slip of paper.
On it was written her reflection on the two weeks she'd spent with the troupe.
She and Wonderstein had sat together over the past two days and composed it.
It was mostly a positive account—how many of her prejudices about the Monster Circus had fallen away.
It could have been dismissed as lip service, but it was also Reina's genuine sentiment.
She wanted to leave behind only kind words for the people who had given her good memories.
Especially after how coldly she'd behaved yesterday. All the more reason.
But when Reina unfolded the paper onstage, the writing on it was not her own.
She wasn't surprised.
Writing and erasing text remotely on a blank page was one of Simon's Inspiras.
He had been in contact with her again that morning through her notebook.
'How is my daughter doing?'
A greeting so transparently fake it was painful.
She had vowed never to harbor expectations of her father again.
Yet her resolve proved hollow; one warm word and her heart reeled.
She'd steadied her pounding heart and written a reply.
They communicated by erasing the letters he had written.
Simon saw the rough, hasty way she'd erased the characters and sneered.
Cheeky brat.
He'd lingered on pleasantries, asking after her well-being for some time before getting to business.
Reina's heart kept trying to refuse him, but fifteen years of conditioning betrayed her, and her guard dissolved under the weight of his apparent concern.
Simon watched the rhythm of the erasures.
Defiant at first. Docile now.
Satisfied that her mind was still bound to him, he delivered the real message.
'When you give your remarks during the trade today, read exactly what I write for you.'
The words jolted Reina awake.
But the hesitation was only in her heart.
Her hand moved on its own, writing a reply to her father.
She would do it.
She was horrified at what her own hand had done.
Frantically, she tried to erase the letters and send a different message.
That she had more to say.
But her body wouldn't move.
A voice whispered from some corner of her mind.
A voice unmistakably at odds with her own will.
The voice her father had planted.
It whispered.
Do you want to disappoint your father?
'B-but if I do this, Troupe Leader Wonderstein—'
Ah, that fake?
'He's not—a fake—!'
She ground her teeth and pushed back, but the presence only sneered at her as if she were pitiful.
He's a fake. That smile, those warm words—all fake.
He only acted that way because of the contract he made with you.
You don't actually think that makes you a real family, do you?
Really? Hm?
Compared to your real father's love, that's just a game. Isn't it?
She had no rebuttal.
While she wavered, Simon left specific instructions and ended the conversation.
That had been that morning.
While the Rekachev officials reviewed her contract, Reina read the contents of the paper.
After a moment, she let out a deep, inward sigh.
She felt nauseous.
The text detailed how inhumanely the monster troupe members had been abused, how primitive and savage their training had been, how utterly pathetic their acrobatics were.
Her father's malice oozed from every line.
But nothing on the page disgusted her more than the testimony against Wonderstein.
'The man who calls himself the troupe leader is all polished looks and filthy conduct, a man worthy of his low station. Throughout rehearsal, his hands were constantly on my body, and at night he would force his way into my bedroom and attempt all manner of indecency.'
Normally, slander in a venue like this would devolve into a mud-slinging match the moment the target denied it.
The accuser's own reputation could suffer badly.
But Simon had a card to play: Ella.
He had gotten to her somehow—she was to take the stage next and corroborate Reina's testimony before everyone.
What was more, she had decided to remain with Golden Carnival.
It was hard to believe.
Those two, who so clearly cared for each other.
Reina understood then how things were moving.
Father.
He had done something. There was no doubt.
Threats, temptation, brainwashing.
He'd shaken Ella's mind with them.
After today, Wonderstein would be buried in the circus world.
Testimony from the two most promising young performers—the biggest story of the season.
One of them was even a former Deputy Leader.
The credibility would be devastating.
Even if only a fraction of the accusations were true, people would believe the girls over the leader of a nameless, low-status circus troupe.
And the man who believed in people, who loved people—he would be betrayed by them and ruined.
Reina barely held back the tears threatening to spill.
I'm sorry.
With that silent apology, she stepped onto the podium.
She unfolded the paper and opened her mouth.
"The Wonderstein Circus Troupe is... a d-decent enough place. That is all."
I'm sorry, Father.
I couldn't betray him.
She gave that curt reflection and stepped back.
Compared to everyone else's remarks, it was dismissive and lacking any pretense of effort.
"Tsk, tsk. Two weeks with them and she can't even manage a few polite compliments?"
"Insolent."
"Did she really need a note for that?"
Even Professor Elpara, whose severe expression seemed unshakable, asked in a flustered voice,
"Ah, do you have any aspirations or final words to share?"
Reina's face crumpled at the question.
Jeers erupted from the Rekachev students in the audience.
How dare she show that kind of attitude toward their vice-principal.
But Reina ignored the reaction and forced out the words she wanted to say.
Her voice was steadier now.
"I want to say thank you. And I'm sorry. And I love you...."
She hesitated, then finished.
"To my dad."
That was enough.
If it was him, he would understand what I meant.
Reina left the stage and took her place in the Golden Carnival section.
"Why didn't you follow instructions?"
Lord Fantastic wore the face of a welcoming father for the crowd, but under his breath he snarled at her.
Reina avoided his gaze and muttered,
"I didn't want to do that to people who've been good to me."
"Hmph. Sentiment? And then ending with that drivel. Did you stop to think about destroying your own character? Pathetic brat."
He turned away from her.
He still had Ella.
With her wit and adaptability, she could spin this unforeseen mess and still leave Wonderstein humiliated.
"A decent enough place?"
Ella, now on the podium, furrowed her brow.
Simon thought she was firing her opening salvo.
She was under the hypnotic suggestions and conditioning he had planted.
Her heart was full of vengeance and loathing for Wonderstein.
Simon saw no fault of his own in any of this.
The proof was that after Wonderstein returned from the factory, he had stopped the "treatment" involving the old man.
Once Ella had caught on, he could no longer tamper with memories.
Simon had also watched Gaston and Ella hurl insults and fight.
Ella could cloak herself in her excellent acting, but the old man couldn't.
A lifetime of stubborn craftsmanship was written all over him.
He was a man incapable of performing.
His contempt and irritation toward Ella were genuine.
By now, Ella would have realized it too.
The deceit surrounding her.
Simon had burrowed into that confusion and planted the suggestions to steer her toward his intent.
He felt no guilt.
She was merely repaying the favor—he had saved her from being exploited by a nameless troupe. It was only right.
But events unfolded contrary to his expectations.
"Calling it 'decent enough' is an understatement—it's a genuinely wonderful place! Do you have any idea how handsome our troupe leader is?"
Ella launched into a stream of praise for Wonderstein and the Monster Circus.
She didn't raise her voice or preach about breaking down prejudice.
She simply shared some amusing anecdotes from daily life there.
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
She also gave her testimony on life in Golden Carnival.
Just as enjoyable as her original troupe, she said, but grumbled that the troupe leader was insufferably irritating.
She painted a picture of how petty, fussy, and short-tempered Lord Fantastic was behind his polished public image.
Those in the know smirked and leaned over to whisper the rumors they'd already heard.
The auditorium buzzed.
Simon could not refute a word Ella said.
For one, her testimony was delivered less as a malicious attack and more in a comedic "oh, that hopeless Simon" tone.
More critically, the colleagues behind him were whistling and cheering in response to her remarks.
That was when Simon understood. His own members had shut him out and secretly conspired with Ella.
He turned to look at his grinning comrades.
They seemed to think this was a hilarious prank.
They were a project-based circus troupe.
Every last member was a top-tier acrobat.
Mediocre performers might cling to competitions and sponsors, but these people had a strong independent streak—if things got unbearable, they'd just find another troupe or go home and resume their old work.
If that happened, Simon, as the one in charge, would be the only one left squirming between the members and the sponsors.
They had respected him as their leader up to now, but the way he handled Reina and the schemes he directed at Ella were beyond what they could stomach.
Simon had believed his members were complicit in his maneuvering.
He thought they also wanted Ella with them.
That was why they'd turned a blind eye when he brainwashed her.
He had been deluding himself.
They were simply done watching his machinations hurt the children.
Now a laughingstock, Simon rose to his feet.
His glare swept the auditorium, seething with resentment.
The Rekachev students, who held old grudges against him, jeered all the louder.
"We're leaving."
Simon strode out ahead of the others.
His pride had clearly taken a deep wound.
The Golden Carnival members, who hadn't expected such a strong reaction from the crowd, exchanged rueful smiles and followed him out.
"Everyone! That was great!"
Ella waved at them from the stage.
"That's enough! Enough!"
Elpara snatched the microphone from her, the stage having somehow turned into Ella's personal talk show.
And with that, the draft proceedings came to an end.