14. Melting Point (6)
14. Melting Point (6)
Her Affection level in the system clearly stood at 46. Yet, watching her draw such strict boundaries, it didn't seem that way at all.
Had being split into two personas caused an error in the system's detection of her Affection level? That number 46 probably included the Affection level she'd held before reclaiming her memories, throwing the calculation off.
Whatever the case, her Affection level itself was a significant power source. Error or not, having it higher was never a bad thing.
"That aside, thanks to Baron Dosville, we cut the schedule down substantially. Railway administration and negotiating advertising rates were a complicated mess."
Ella pointed toward a corner of the warehouse. There, a shabbily dressed young man clutched a glass in his hand, dozing off repeatedly.
Name: Doji Dosville
Age: 26
Affection level: 0 (Next Reward: Affection level 15)
Title: None
Job: Writer
Traits
: None
Wonderstein regarded the new member, who had joined not long ago, with unexpected respect. He'd accepted him into the troupe, but had been skeptical about whether he'd actually work. Fortunately, it seemed he was earning his keep.
He had joined the circus troupe following Minova, signing a contract to work under him for two years in exchange for having his debts wiped clean. He had to stay with him to avoid being dragged off by creditors.
"Kahahaha! You guys were absolutely incredible! As expected from the troupe that faced off against us!"
"Uncle, your emceeing was amazing too! It was so thrilling!"
"Every single word felt like it hammered straight into the soul, haha!"
A rugged man with a red mohawk was drinking beer among the troupe members. He kept working to keep the energy up so the after-party wouldn't cool down—a talent befitting someone who had once served as a troupe leader.
Ella smiled contentedly as she watched him.
"Uncle Minova stepping in as the emcee was huge. It let me move around freely. Besides, for the whole Monster Circus vibe, his hosting style works better than mine anyway."
"Uncle? Hey, Deputy Leader! I'm just two years older than Wonderstein!"
Minova shouted in protest upon hearing her words. Behind his back, Umon whispered into Sven's ear.
"Judging by appearances alone, he looks old enough to be an uncle or even a grandfather, wouldn't you say?"
Minova caught that with uncanny precision and whipped his head around a full 180 degrees to stare at him.
"Umon, you punk, you're the last one who should be talking about appearances!"
"Whoa! His neck just spun around!"
"To be shocked by a little 'yoga' like that! You're not worthy of being called a strongman, you rascal!"
Having finished the October Test, Wonderstein decided to rest in Yeterinpurk for a month, partly to care for his companions' injuries. He was also inclined to help the Papael Circus and the Morning Star Circus with their November tests. They had received considerable help from them this time around.
In the test a month later, the Papael Circus claimed a star, but the Morning Star Circus did not. Ultimately, the Morning Star Circus disbanded just as their sponsor had threatened before the competition. That was the downside of project-based circus troupes—they could be easily swayed by the influence of their sponsors.
'Hey, Wonderstein! Take us with you!'
Yet Minova's ambition to put his daughter on the Wonder Stage remained unshaken. Just before the troupe dissolved, he used the troupe leader's privilege—usable only once for the entire duration of the Grand Prix—to transfer his daughter's affiliation to Wonderstein's side. Then, independent of the Grand Prix rules, he joined the circus troupe himself.
In other words, although competition rules barred him from taking part in Grand Prix stages, the system formally recognized him as a member.
Name: Minova Skolcheo
Age: 29
Affection level: 8 (Next Reward: Affection level 15)
Title: Rooster
Job: Emcee
Traits
: [Inspira-Alarm]
Unlike her father, Ruelo transferred in a manner guaranteed by the Grand Prix rules. Because of this, she could participate in subsequent preliminaries. However, the Monster Circus's brutal atmosphere made it difficult for her to handle the stage progression alongside her father as she used to. So she took on a different job.
"Our Ruelo is absolutely wonderful at being a mascot!"
"Haha, Miss Ruelo is cute, after all!"
At Yurakne and Sven's words, Ruelo, dressed in a 'Spider Woman' costume, scratched the back of her head.
"Hmm, no, it's not that... The others are the ones who perform well..."
Yurakne pulled her into a hug, rubbing her face madly against Ruelo's cheek and shouting with an excited voice.
"Oh my, so cute! If only I had a kid like Ruelo..."
"Haha, you'll give birth soon enough, won't you? Probably with blonde hair..."
"Bl-blonde...? Y-you... you bag of bones, what kind of talk is that in front of a child!"
Name: Ruelo Skolcheo
Age: 6
Affection level: 10 (Next Reward: Affection level 15)
Title: None
Job: Mascot
Traits
: [Subordinate Demon - Samson]
She promoted the circus troupe on the streets dressed in costumes that turned the monster members into characters. The unease evoked by the name 'Monster Circus' was neutralized by her adorable appearance, drawing in many customers who would otherwise have hesitated.
"Should I get more beer? People in this country don't seem to fancy it much. There's a lot left. The opened ones lose carbonation, so we have to finish them all tonight."
A boy who had been drinking soda beside Umon confirmed the table was empty and stood up. He worked pushing a cart, selling snacks and drinks to spectators, so he was keeping track of the sponsored goods' inventory.
"Great! How about you have a drink too?"
"Mickey is thirteen!"
"I drank booze when I was twelve!"
"That's you we're talking about, Troupe Leader Minova!"
Name: Mickey
Age: 13
Affection level: 0 (Next Reward: Affection level 15)
Title: None
Job: Cart Merchant
Traits
: None
Halfway through standing up, Mickey glanced across the room at Wonderstein, who was sitting beside Ella in conversation. He had heard the circumstances from her, so he knew full well that man was the monster who had massacred their hometown. He had also heard that she was cooperating with him only because he'd threatened her into it—and that he himself was here as her hostage.
'Lie low for now and wait for an opening.'
Mentally sharpening his knife, he left to tend to his assigned tasks.
As the after-party carried on boisterously, Maya, who had been drawing quietly in the corner, snapped her sketchbook shut.
"I'd like to retire for the night. Troupe Leader, please carry me."
At her words, the laughter filling the lounge died down. Everyone looked at her with a touch of sympathy. Wonderstein stepped before her and bent down.
"Understood. We'll proceed with the massage immediately, yes?"
"Yes."
He supported her knees and waist with both arms, lifting her into his embrace, and headed for her bedroom. Everyone watched them silently for a moment. Once the pair had vanished, the chatter gradually picked up, and soon the place grew as lively as before.
But one person remained seated in silence, unlike earlier. It was Ella.
Part of it was that her conversation partner had vanished. More than that, though, guilt was throwing her heart into turmoil. She stared in the direction where Wonderstein and Maya had disappeared, her hands repeatedly crumpling and smoothing the documents she held. The other members—except the three of them—didn't know that it was Ella who had injured Maya.
Five weeks had passed since the Rekachev school exam ended. Most of them had been hospitalized for only a short time before getting back on their feet, but not everyone. Maya, who had been struck by the bullet Ella fired, was currently unable to use her lower body.
***
Charlie had loaded his own gun with a special bullet he'd obtained on the black market. It had been forged by melting down sacred crosses.
The underworld had, in its own way, armed itself with countermeasures against 'mado.' Since many Madosa frequented the darker parts of society, the underworld often came into contact with them.
Granted, most of their coping strategies amounted to nothing more than adages like, 'Stick a knife in their throat before they try anything funny,' or, 'Separate the suspicious goods from their hands.' However, veteran officers would sometimes procure weapons carrying power that negated sorcery, treating them like talismans. The bullets made from blessed silver crosses were one such item.
When Wonderstein first heard that Maya's emergency treatment was successfully over, he'd thought everything was settled. He'd figured that so long as they cleared the critical point, he could tidy things up later with Devolut. Then, days later, he received news that struck like a bolt from the blue.
"There's no feeling in my legs."
There was no diagnostic system equivalent to modern medicine in this era. The patient's self-report was paramount. So no one knew anything was wrong with her body until Maya woke up. The bullet had destroyed her spinal nerves, leaving her half-paralyzed.
Wonderstein attempted to restore her nervous system using the power of Devolut. The problem was the cross fragment lodged in her spine. The Power of Light radiating from it warped the commands he infused into his Devolut.
Devolut was prone to spiraling out of control with even a slight error in its command. One only had to look at the rampaging 'Fanatics' or Samson, the entity parasitizing Ruelo's body, to see that. Reconstructing spinal nerves, in particular, was a profoundly delicate task. So he had no choice but to abandon the treatment.
Given time, the power radiating from the cross fragment might eventually exhaust itself. Wonderstein once again had no choice but to pin his hopes on that uncertain future.
It was a situation that would plunge an ordinary person into despair.
Yet Maya had been utterly expressionless, both when she was sentenced to lower-body paralysis and when she heard that even Wonderstein couldn't cure her. She asked a few questions about her state, then simply nodded her head. She seemed utterly indifferent, as if it were someone else's problem.
Even after a month had passed, she had never once expressed anything resembling frustration. She simply accepted the rehabilitation massages prescribed by the doctor in silence.
"Please do it, Troupe Leader."
Upon hearing the details of the massage therapy, she had entrusted the task to Wonderstein. She had been injured trying to protect him this time. He couldn't refuse her request. So, for the past month, he had made a point of staying close to her, frequently checking on the state of her legs.
He carried her to her room and sat her on the bed. After stretching out both of her legs, he slipped his hands under her skirt and removed her stockings.
"Haaah...."
The moment her pale, bare legs were exposed, she drew in a long breath. Wonderstein looked up at her and tilted his head slightly.
"Do you feel something?"
"Ah, n-no...."
Maya abruptly turned her head away, avoiding his gaze. Wonderstein understood her heart. For someone as independent and self-assured as her, the sheer fact that she needed someone's care must have been humiliating.
Trying his best not to upset her, he performed the treatment with the utmost sincerity. As the first step of the massage, he meticulously cleaned her legs with a warm, damp towel. As the cloth passed over the inside of her thigh, she let out another unintelligible moan.
"Do you feel something?"
At his question, she pressed her lips tightly shut and shook her head vigorously.
"No. Nothing at all."
After nodding, he moved on to the next phase of the massage. He kneaded her thighs, calves, and feet in sequence. When his fingers slipped between her toes, she produced another strange, muffled sound.
"Do you feel something?"
"Ah, no."
He applied the oil that Gaston had prepared onto the sole of her foot, then began tickling it with his hand. He sensed her breathing grow slightly rougher.
"Do you feel something?"
"N-not at all...."
Continuing, he blew alternating gusts of cold and warm breath between her legs. A small, single tremor ran through her hips.
"Oh, it moved!"
"It's just... a reflex spasm of the muscles...."
"I see."
Having finished the treatment sequence, Wonderstein sank into serious contemplation. According to the doctor and Gaston, continuing this stimulation of pressure, friction, and thermal sensation for about two weeks would allow her to gauge which areas she could move through her own rehabilitation exercises.
But she had said she felt nothing at all, even after a full month of this. Was it so completely ruined that even the slightest rehabilitation was impossible? Or was her insensitivity just exceptionally severe?
Maya sat against the wall in an unstable posture, staring at him blankly.
Every time he saw her like that, guilt pierced his heart. Out of everyone, he knew best the agony of a life without functioning limbs, and yet he had done this to another person.
The one who pulled the trigger was Ella, but he was the one who had driven her to it with constant provocation. And Maya had been injured while trying to save him. He wanted to heal her body by any means possible.
Then a thought popped into his mind. He possessed a fairly potent nerve stimulant without any side effects. He'd used it on Reina a few times before....
"...Troupe Leader?"
"My apologies. I was lost in thought for a moment. Miss Maya, I have a new treatment method. Will you let me try it?"
"...Yes."
At her answer, Wonderstein nodded in understanding. He suddenly lifted her leg. Then, before she could even think of stopping him, he stuck out his tongue and licked the sole of her foot.