87. Mari Episode
87. Mari Episode
Something was off about Ceres.
Ever since that night, Ceres had been acting strange.
No matter how much I thought about it, Ceres had gotten seriously odd.
It felt like the incident had definitely brought us closer, but we'd gotten closer in a bratty kind of way.
"Hmph! I didn't make it for you to eat! Eat it or don't!"
Every lunch, she'd shove a packed meal at me and keep giving me attitude.
"Hey! Why were you so late to the studio today! And you call yourself a priest?! Get over here and check the lead actor's makeup already!"
I was one minute late, and she kept nitpicking me.
"How was my acting just now? You didn't watch? Hey! You've been half-assing the shoots lately, haven't you?"
I was busy as hell playing Riv, and after every single cut she kept getting on my case.
Everything she said had gotten a little ruder.
But the stranger thing was that, rude as she was, it somehow didn't feel unpleasant.
If I had to define it, it felt like calling a Black friend you were super tight with a slur—except affectionate.
The content was clearly rude, but it felt closer than being polite, an insult that wasn't really an insult.
The world had all kinds of friendships, so Ceres's change itself wasn't strange, but something still nagged at me, so I talked to Nikolai.
"Ah, fuck it. I'm done talking to you."
And all I got back was profanity.
*
Setting that aside, after the incident, Celestia was doing extremely well.
Still, just in case, I did ask if she wanted to get revenge on Pamela, but she had already cleanly shaken off the past.
"Pamela? Why her?"
"I was wondering if you needed something like payback."
"Nah. What would I get out of payback? I'm the eternal Magical Mari anyway. I realized that clashing with someone like her that day only hurts me. So I'm just trying to forget it."
"Right. That's enough then."
After hearing that, I sent a reply to the second apology letter from the higher-ups— "No need for vengeance."
Shortly after, breaking news came one after another: that the Barrios family had been secretly backing elven extremist terrorists, and that the senator had resigned from his Senate seat.
It looked as though they had lumped the Barrios family together with the terrorists from the border incident and beaten them down. Whether it was a scheme by the leadership or they had simply caught them by chance, no one would ever know.
But the key point was that he'd resigned, and that this particular senator was currently drawing the entire world's aggro with a notorious pile of trash and plagiarism called <Fairy Warrior>.
The justification existed, the power to protect him was gone, and the higher-ups turned their backs on him.
After that, all news of them vanished, but I could at least be certain their story wouldn't have a happy ending.
But Ceres truly seemed not to care about the Barrios family at all; even at the news of their downfall, she didn't show any interest.
She even threw it back in my face, saying if I had time to worry about stuff like that, I should put more effort into the final act.
Following her advice, I decided to stop dwelling on the incident.
"That is what happened, Rondel."
When I laid out the whole story to Ceres's father, he let out a deep sigh.
Originally I'd planned to squeeze a ton of compensation out of the Hyphen Kingdom, but with Ceres herself wanting to leave the past behind, dragging it out and telling her to pick compensation would've been a second act of harm.
So I handed the negotiation rights over to Ceres's father.
This was partly because her father could secure reasonable compensation, but for the higher-ups it also functioned as silent pressure to prepare compensation that Ceres would not notice.
Afterward, Rondel asked about Ceres's condition a few more times before ending the call with a meaningful remark.
"Thank you. From now on, you're as good as family to us."
Figuring all's well that ends well, I hung up thinking I'd gained a powerful senator as a backer.
The pointy-ear commotion that had flipped the studio upside down thus drew to a close as a happy ending.
*
Two weeks shot by, and at last the time to film the final act approached.
We faced two major tasks.
One was finding an actor to play the final boss,
and the other was remaking one of the episodes as a feature film in the middle of all this.
The episode we were turning into a feature film was the Civil War Episode.
We were making it because we'd received so many requests and because, as I'd told Pia in advance, I'd planned to do it if things went well.
When I told Pia this, she smiled so brightly it lifted my own spirits.
"So will we be going to the preview together, like you promised last time?"
"That's how it should work out, anyway."
"I never doubted, Allen."
Pia wore a demure smile, but her fingers were hidden behind her back.
Something I'd learned recently—she had a habit of making string patterns behind her back when she was in a good mood.
Right then, behind her back, all kinds of shapes were probably being formed through cat's cradle.
As I watched Pia's sleeves twitch, Diane placed a hand on her own hip and boldly blocked Pia's path.
"The protagonist of the civil war episode is me."
"And your point is?"
"Normally, at a preview, it's proper for the lead Hero to sit beside the Priest."
Well, it wasn't exactly wrong.
Barring special circumstances, the Sage, Prophet, Priest, and Hero usually sat together as a four.
That way, the photos turned out nice.
Which is to say, if you didn't care about photos, there was no need to follow that rule.
Diane probably assumed Pia didn't know premiere etiquette, but Pia had attended most of the premieres for the films I'd made, so she didn't fall for it.
When Pia pointed this out, Diane's fine features faltered slightly.
The two kept fighting over the seat next to me until they reached a dramatic compromise: each taking one side.
But that compromise was unfortunately rejected by the person in question—me.
"Sorry, but one of the seats beside me belongs to our leading lady."
Ceres pointed at herself with a look saying, Me?
"Yeah. You."
"And why do I suddenly get called out?"
"Why did you think you wouldn't?"
Ceres's eyes rolled around.
Given how rude she'd been lately, I expected her to play hard to get at least once and had already prepared a rebuttal, but Ceres answered.
"In that case... I'll take the right."
"Uh."
"What. That weirdly unsatisfied attitude."
"No. Just thought you'd refuse at least once."
"No particular reason to refuse."
Well, when you put it like that, I had nothing to say.
With a somewhat defeated feeling, I turned my gaze back toward Diane and Pia.
As expected, the two were already in the middle of rock-paper-scissors.
Seeing them stake their lives on a mere round of rock-paper-scissors, I couldn't help but mutter to myself.
"Geez. It's not like photos come out prettier just because you're sitting next to me."
Nikolai overheard that and tossed me a pleasantry.
"Boss, please go die somewhere."
"You've been treating me like absolute garbage lately."
"You deserve to be treated that way."
"Hmph..."
One little joke didn't warrant that kind of reaction...
At the way my younger brother had changed, I shrank away and headed toward Leon.
But when a similar level of verbal abuse came from Leon too, I had no choice but to retreat to a corner of the set.
Was this the sorrow of a family head...?
At my younger siblings' changed ways, a tear formed.
Later, as Ailey patted my head in the corner, I heard that Pia had won.
*
We'd gotten sidetracked, but we decided to shoot the feature film after most of the finale was finished.
Like when we shot the civil war episode, we'd be imposing on Ceres's hometown again, but this time things would be a bit easier.
'If the elves have any conscience, they'll quietly accommodate us.'
I wrapped up the movie-edition discussion at that, and now we had to find an actor to play the final boss.
You might ask why we didn't simply cast Uncle Leonhardt, the strongest wrestler. The problem was that he was missing about two percent.
As a rule, the final boss had to be a superior version of every mid-boss.
They had to be physically stronger than Scapul,
craftier than Ignos,
and more technically seasoned than Riv.
And on top of that, being the final boss, they had to have acting skills that would make people's skin crawl.
In my uncle's case, he met those conditions—the problem was his role as King Lion.
His image as an honorable, fair-and-square performer was so firmly established that audiences would have trouble seeing him as a villain.
You're asking, can't he just sublimate a measly actor image with acting skill?
Try saying that to the actor forever associated with the wizard who has a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
It's not as easy as it sounds.
After finding no suitable candidate among the wrestlers, I broadened the search beyond Wrestle Kingdom.
"Boss, you don't have anyone like this in your connections?"
"Hmm... there is one, actually."
"Oh, really? Who?"
"The Calamity Duke."
"...I don't think that's quite right."
"Yeah, I said it and then realized it didn't work."
For the record, my father had been among the candidates too, but he'd been rejected.
The apple didn't fall far from the tree: our Guardian Duke charged in with his body before giving his brain time to work. If anything, he suited Scapul, not the final boss.
In any case, the two of us kept cycling through candidates, proposing them and striking them out.
When every single candidate had been eliminated due to some unfortunate disqualifying factor and not one remained, the opinion that we'd have to compromise inevitably started surfacing.
"It's a bit disappointing."
"That's how reality is. Nothing we can do about it."
Honestly, Scapul, Ignos, and Riv alone were officers with personalities so distinctive they were almost unprecedented in this world.
There was no way an actor who was a direct upgrade of characters like those would just drop out of the sky.
Just as we were about to settle on King Lion as the final candidate with a sense of regret, the office door opened and Pia walked in.
"Everyone. Please have these while you work."
In her hands were snacks with fan letters enclosed—perhaps sent by the fan club.
As she sorted the letters and snacks on the desk, inspiration struck with a 'Pew!' sound effect.
"Pia, could you sit here for a moment?"
"Huh? What's the matter?"
I pulled out the chair from my desk and seated her there.
Then I had her cross her legs and asked her to act like a domineering queen insulting those beneath her.
"Oh my. When you stare at me like that, it's a little embarrassing..."
Embarrassed though she was, Pia did as I asked.
As I looked up at her from below, I began sorting through Pia's specs in my head.
Was she physically stronger than Scapul?
Three fingers would settle it.
Was she shrewder than Ignos?
Was that even a question?
Was she technically superior to Riv?
Was I seriously discussing technique with someone who fought with thread?
Finally, was her acting ability outstanding?
Hmm...
Her facial expressions were certainly excellent... but as I'd pointed out before, Pia's acting was acting meant to deceive an opponent, not acting suited for standing before a camera.
When she memorized lines, the emotion carried in her tone was far too lacking, making it awkward, or else it was too exaggerated, making it cringey.
The problem was that it always turned out to be one of those two, constantly tripping her up.
"...Hm. That last one is the sticking point."
"Pardon?"
Rubbing my chin, I agonized over that final disqualifying factor—then I switched my perspective.
Couldn't I just sublimate the excessive awkwardness or cringiness into the character itself?
Ignoring Pia, who was asking me to explain what was going on, I tossed my idea at Nikolai for discussion.
"Hmm... you mean that person I'm thinking of, right?"
"Probably the same person."
"...I thought about it, and I think it might work?"
"Okay. Think you can write for it? Won't it be too cringey?"
"I can use it as a reference and make it work."
Now that I had Nikolai's approval, at least, I asked Pia to act a new way.
Confused by the continuing unexplained demands, she nevertheless faithfully carried out my instructions.
She lifted her chin slightly, narrowed her eyes into a sensual glare, and let down her tied-up hair.
In a voice far more decadent and oily than her usual acting tone, she delivered the line.
"Blind faith is the emotion furthest removed from understanding."
Clap clap.
With a character complete and needing no adjustments, both Nikolai and I applauded.
They say that even the uncanny valley turns into the Great Delight Mountain once you surpass the threshold—apparently, when you deliberately set out to be cringey, it reaches the level of art.
"Pia! You're the only one!"
"Huh?! All of a sudden?!"
Having confirmed her aptitude, I immediately seized Pia's hands and asked her to take the final boss role.
As it happened, perhaps she'd been feeling a sense of rivalry toward Diane without even realizing it herself, because she accepted the offer readily.
Now that the character was decided, I immediately began conceiving her costume.
"First, there are two candidates. Want to pick one?"
"I'll take a look and decide... Allen?"
Pia peered at the outfits I had presented, then her expression crumbled as she called my name.
"Might you perhaps have shown me the wrong outfits by mistake?"
"Nope. Those are the right ones."
Upon hearing my answer, Pia's expression grew grave.
Then, utterly appalled, she vetoed every last one of the outfits.
"If it were only in front of you, I might manage, but how am I supposed to wear something this indecent in front of a camera?!"
"Evil-organization female executives are supposed to dress like this."
The clothes I'd presented to her fell broadly into two categories.
One was a full-body leather suit that revealed no bare skin but clearly showed off the figure.
The other was cloth clothing with a comparatively small fabric area, exposing more bare skin—the navel, cleavage, and so on.
They were the stereotypical outfits of an evil female executive.
"No. I can't do it!"
"Ceres and Kylie wore them just fine. Diane wears them just fine too."
"Even so, I could never wear something like that!"
"You'll be using an avatar and performing as a luchador anyway. No one will recognize you."
Under my continued persuasion, Pia, half on the verge of tears, ultimately accepted the proposal.
*
The next day.
Along with an announcement that the final boss role had been decided, I summoned the filming crew to the meeting room.
Once everyone was seated, I called in the actor who would be taking on the final boss.
"Come in."
Despite my signal, there was a moment of hesitation outside the door, and the final boss did not enter.
Only after I opened the door myself did Pia shuffle into the meeting room, wearing the low-coverage cloth outfit that revealed so much bare skin.
Even when she'd been wearing only a shirt, I'd thought her figure was fairly violent, but now that it was displayed so openly, it was simply violence incarnate.
Having entered the meeting room, Pia was tugging at the clothing toward any embarrassing area, trying somehow to expand the narrow region the fabric covered.
The moment Leon witnessed this sight, his face hardened, and he demanded an explanation.
When I explained all the details, Leon spoke in a stern, grave tone.
"No. Rejected."
"Why."
"Are you seriously planning to put a princess on screen in an outfit like that?"
"I told you, she's using an avatar."
"There are still limits. No."
"Brother..."
When Leon, of all people, came to her defense, Pia looked at him with deeply moved eyes.
For a moment, I wondered if she'd suddenly developed a brother complex, but that wasn't it either.
"If she were wearing something like this of her own free will, I wouldn't care, but no matter how you slice it, you putting her in that is wrong, isn't it."
"What's wrong with me putting Pia in this?"
"Ugh. Seriously. I can't even punch this bastard."
What the hell.
Was he taking issue with me using my position as Pia's close childhood friend and surrogate older brother to pressure her?
Thinking about it that way, I started to look like the scum of the earth.
Accepting Leon's criticism, I increased the amount of fabric.
At least enough to cover her armpits and navel.
But even with the revised design I produced, Leon rejected this too.
"No. Cover the cleavage and the thighs too."
"Why? That's the selling point! Haven't you heard of the gap between stockings and a skirt?"
"That's exactly why you shouldn't be dressing her like that."
"No. I'm not backing down on this one anymore."
"Haah... I can't even bring myself to say it outright... keep this up and you could end up arrested for insulting the imperial family."
"Aaaagh! Down with artistic oppression! The king doesn't understand the human heart!!!"
When Leon dragged out the crime of imperial insult to crush me with authority and I had no weapons left to fight back, I resorted to my final measure: throwing a tantrum.
As I stubbornly held the position that I could concede no further, Leon heaved a sigh and contacted someone.
Before long, a familiar face appeared on the other side of the crystal he'd handed over.
I stopped the tantrum I'd been throwing moments ago and showed proper deference toward the figure beyond the screen.
"Your Majesty. Have you been in good health?"
"It has been a long while since I've seen your face. Judging by your expression, you look well."
"Your Majesty's grace reaches even here; how could I possibly have any worries?"
"Your tongue is as smooth as ever. So, what is this outfit Leon mentioned for ‘our’ princess?"
"That... well..."
"Don't drag it out; show me at once."
Hesitantly, I adjusted the crystal so that Pia appeared on Uncle Emperor's screen.
As he took in the sight, the old man chuckled good-naturedly and stroked his chin beard.
"Ho ho. From the look of it, our princess doesn't seem particularly fond of that. Did you put her in those clothes?"
"Er... yes... that is correct, however..."
"Enough excuses. Then I, your emperor, shall also give you two choices—
- Which would you prefer, the knee press or leg twisting?"
"...I will change it."
"In what way."
"I will ensure no bare skin is visible below the neck."
"Up to the neck."
"How could I object?"
Only then did my uncle nod in satisfaction and end the call.
Today, once again, our studio surrendered to external pressure.