Shambala Sect 35 Wife-Changing Pointer

"I never asked you, but … Did you finish the deck test?" Zentzu asked.

"Yes, just barely," Lirzod said, glancing back at Ballu. "That guy won't kill them, or would he?"

"I think he won't. If he lets his rage take over him, then anything may happen. Though killing isn't allowed, people still take each other to near death situations, and sometimes people do die. In any case, if those four die, then he'll be in big trouble. So, he will probably do everything he can while making sure those four won't die."

"Torture huh. That sounds even worse. Why is killing not allowed but torture is?"

"I have no answer to that," Zentzu glanced up sideways at him, "so … I heard you finished the test. What do you think about it? Anything significant to share?"

"Well, it's just a sprint," Lirzod scratched his chin. "So I don't know if there's much to talk about it or not."

"Haha, most people on this deck would cry if they hear that."

"Mm? Why?"

"Well, crossing a hundred meters in twelve seconds isn't what everybody can achieve. Many that board this s.h.i.+p have fat bellies, or bent legs, or some other sort of reason that makes it hard for them to finish the test triumphantly. Practice booths were built just for those who always lose in the deck test. But those who have already pa.s.sed the test but still want to improve themselves could also use them. However, many people still fail to make use of the booths. It just shows how lacking in talent most people on this deck are."

"Practice Booth?" Lirzod's nose wrinkled.

"Yeah, you can find the relevant ones on almost every deck until the hundredth deck," Zentzu said. "The ones on this deck, however, teach the basic forms of running, breathing, and such things. Sergen here, teaches on breathing aspects."

"Who's Sergen?" Lirzod was looking down at the ground.

"It's me," the guard behind those two answered in an excited manner. Having his name spoken out of commander's mouth gave him a lot of happiness. After all, Zentzu would only remember the names of those he deemed worthy to be memoried. "I mainly instruct people how to breathe to always keep their bodies teeming with oxygen, and to keep their fatigation at bay for longer, especially during battles."

"Aren't you a spear thrower? How do you know about the staminrelated subject during battles?" Lirzod darted a doubtful glance at the guard.

"I guess you are clueless about the fact that a spear can be used for close combat too," Sergen snorted and thrust his spear in between those two. "If one knows how to execute a right technique, they can puncture through a person's heart even from close range. It's a shame that most people on this deck can't even properly wield a spear."

Lirzod stayed silent for a few seconds as his thoughts wandered a short distance away before returning, "I thought that getting an entry ticket for the Shambala Sect was super hard, but how come so many scoundrels boarded the s.h.i.+p?"

"The entry ticket in itself was free after all," Zentzu bent his neck forward and heaved a sigh.

"What?" Lirzod's eyes almost popped out of his sockets. "For real? Anyone can get them?" His posture stiffened, and muscles turned rigid.

"Hmm? Yes." Zentzu's face paled slightly, "Anyone can get them, but not everyone will be given. You get the tickets either by directly proving your worth to the captain commander of this s.h.i.+p or by getting a ticket through recommendation. There are few ways of getting recommendation both from inside and outside of the sect. But that recommendation can either cost a lot or cost nothing depending on who you are. There are also plenty of officials who misuse this system and secretly auction tickets. That's why there are so many good-for-nothings flooding the streets of this deck." He sighed, "At least these secret sellouts are regionally restricted. Or else, the number of entries that board every year would have increased by a hundred times."

Lirzod was slack-jawed as he stared at Zentzu in a daze. He was under the impression that the clan leaders spent a large sum of money and hardened long-term deals of some sorts to obtain the tickets. That's what most people of the clan also believed to be the case. Now, Lirzod began to doubt what the clan leaders expected him to buy. (Were they fooling all of us? How did they exactly get the tickets?)

He looked at Zentzu. "What do you mean by 'regionally restricted'?"

"Every year, Shambala Sect issues a different number of tickets to different regions. The region may be as small as the home grounds of a clan, or it can be as big as an entire state, or the kingdom, or even an entire continent. Though auctioning tickets among the people of the same region may get overlooked, selling tickets from region to the members of another region is strictly forbidden, and those who did it would be severely dealt with."

Lirzod was surprised to hear that. (Wait, doesn't that mean someone in my kingdom got these tickets and secretly sold them to the clan heads? Is that what happened in truth? But then why would they choose to sell to our clan heads of all people? I'm sure they would have earned a lot more if they had sold to the higher-ups. Ugh…) Lirzod scratched his head five times. No matter how much he thought, he couldn't convince himself.

Though his clan was just an insignificant clan of the kingdom, and though its place was somewhere near the bottom, his people still used wondrous tactics to withstand the test of time, while keeping a low profile. They mostly traded with the distant lands, leaving no worth-mentioning allies nearby. Lirzod never fully understood why the chamber members of the clan agreed for such trade dealings, as it made it extremely hard to get recognized in the state let alone the kingdom.

Lirzod went into deep thought. (Did they sell the valley? No. People are too attached to that place for them to sell it. So, what else is left?)

Zentzu got bored and looked at the book in his hand, and unsought memories rushed to his mind. "Most new female entries probably imagine great things as they come looking for me, but when they see me, they either turn back and leave without looking back or step forward with a faint and fleeting distorted face," he conversed with a heavy heart as dolefulness delineated his eyes, "they say that 'Good poetry attracts good girls.' My tongue had articulated many poems, but none were effective. I keep on multiplying my money every year but still am unable to find a single girl that likes me for who I am. People think that I live luxuriously, but they have no idea how alone I feel."

Sergen tilted his head down and was wordless. He was kind of aware of how Zentzu felt about girls all this while, but he never thought that his commander yearned for a partner to such an extent. But after giving it a thought, he realized that he had presumed many things.

"You are not alone, man," Lirzod said in a heartening tone, "Many girls avoid me because of my scar. What can I do about it?"

Sergen raised his voice, "You are comparing your single scar with the commander's problem?"

"It's a single scar, but girls don't see it that way," Lirzod let out a bitter smile. "I wish this scar kissed me somewhere else."

"I can't increase my height, but you can just get the scar treated," Zentzu's words flew in the face of Lirzod.

"No, some people want me to keep it," Lirzod verbalized his feelings without reserve. "Every girl has her preferences as we do, and you can't blame them, or even ourselves for it. All we can do is either wait or look for the one who makes us feel special."

Whenever Lirzod used the word 'man' to refer to the commander, pleasantness entertained Zentzu's ears. But Lirzod's words felt very much supposit.i.tious in his case.

"I think he's somewhat right, commander," Sergen voiced his notion, albeit he didn't want to support Lirzod's claim.

"Right huh," Zentzu bit his lower lip. (I was made to feel special in a bad way throughout my childhood. I don't want to feel special anymore. Just normal is fine.) He clenched his jaw as he glanced at the guard. "Right in what way, Sergen? Even tall but bald guys struggle to get attention and play all sorts of tricks from wigs to wags, but most of them end up never receiving it. So they marry some random women and spend the rest of their life with them. I don't want to be like those guys. Just as much as I want to succeed in life, I also want to win over a woman. I'm not bald, so I can't wear a wig. But if it takes one to be funny or wear raised shoes or apply makeup to attract women and make them fall for you, then I'm not willing to go to such lengths."

Lirzod glanced down at Zentzu's feet and saw that the base of his shoes was more than two inches tall. He sighed was hardly noticeable. "You want women to be genuinely attracted to you while you are carrying a fake appearance."

His words startled Zentzu.

"What did you just say?" Sergen brought the spear close to Lirzod's neck. "Mind repeating it?"

Zentzu waved his hand telling Sergen to back off. He narrowed his eyes as he stared at Lirzod as anger tried to settle over him. "What made you say that I was faking my appearance?"

"Your shoes," Lirzod said, "why aren't you wearing normal ones?"

"Commander is not wearing them for girls but for himself, fool!" A flicker of irritation beamed out of Sergen's eyes.

"For himself?" Lirzod touched the base of his neck.

"Whenever he meets new people, he has to look up every time, which results in neck pain," Sergen's blood quickened as he said, "he's picked these type of shoes to reduce that effect as much as possible."

"Oh, my bad," Lirzod felt somewhat remorseful as he gave a darting glance at Zentzu, "sorry, man."

"That's not enough!" Sergen blew air through his nose. "Touch his feet."

"Don't bother too much," Zentzu's words hurt Sergen's heart, and he wobbled a bit. The next moment, he received a quick mocking gaze from Lirzod that boiled his blood, but all he could do was swallow down his frustration. Zentzu looked at Lirzod in a complex expression. "I think I got a bit emotional and wasted your time telling my worries, even though it helps neither."

"It's alright, commander," Sergen intervened, stumbling over his words, "s-sharing takes some weight off us."

"I'm not busy or anything, so it's fine," Lirzod said, and his breathing slowed as memories took over, "Women won't look womanly in a wig, and men won't look manly in a makeup, but a woman can look womanly without a makeup, and men can look manly without a wig. Isn't it funny how things that look good on men won't look as good on women and vice versa?"

"I'd say, it's hard for most to digest such things and come to terms with their imperfections," Zentzu said and took a breath. "Though I don't feel so bad for being short as much as I used to, sometimes it still haunts me."

"No, man," Lirzod lay his hand on Zentzu's shoulder, receiving an unglued glance. "You are tall enough."

"Tall enough? For what?" Zentzu frowned, as frustration coiled in his stomach. "I can't even give a proper hug."

"For a love marriage of course." He grimaced a playful grin.

"L-Love marriage?" Zentzu's eyes enlarged, and his feet came to a sudden halt as he turned his head towards Lirzod in a racing heartbeat. "How? How can I do that?"

"Simple," Lirzod uttered smoothly with no rush, "I a.s.sume you don't want a girl who's too tall to lay her head on your chest. So, how about loving someone your size?"

Sergen staggered from hearing those words, while Zenztu was stumped. For a brief moment, it resembled as if fury immobilized them both.

"What?" Sergen exclaimed, having had his stomach suffer a stab of anger a split second ago, irritation crackled through his voice, "You are out of your freaking mind. This is the worst advice I have ever heard in my life."

"What's wrong with what I said?" Lirzod was piqued, owing to getting licked all over by the flames of Sergen's hissy fit. "Is it wrong to marry a short girl?" His voice was like a flame that had been spit, and it grew in tempestuousness as it traveled and struck Sergen's face thereby slowly burning it.

"Of course," Sergen, however, spoke back in a haughty tone, casting away all the heat that covered his face. "Someone like commander Zentzu deserves a winsome woman in the least, not some midget mademoiselle."

The moment those words uttered out of his mouth, Sergen received p.r.i.c.kly glances from both. Only then, he caught on to the scope of his words.

"I-I didn't mean it that way, commander!" Sergen slapped himself repeatedly. "I have no problem against midgets. It's just that..."

"Just what?" Lirzod snorted as he cringed away from the guard. "You revealed it in your own words your opinions on short people." Saying that he gave a subtle hara.s.sing smile.

Sergen eyes bulged for a moment before he ground his teeth. (So, you are trying to make me look bad in front of the commander. I will make you pay for this!)

"Brother," the word that came out of Zentzu's mouth, dropped Sergen's jaw. "I'm unsure why I didn't think of it in such a manner." His voice was guileless. "A guy should feel short only when his girlfriend is taller than him. You are right."

"It was nothing," Lirzod let out an embarra.s.sing laugh. (When did I say that?) "I just spoke my mind, ahem, nothing more. Two short people make a tall couple after all, haha."

"Two short people make a tall couple?" Sergen knitted his brows and satirically scorned. "How in the world did you arrive at that frivolous conclusion?"

"Personal logic," Lirzod calmly replied as he totally ignored Sergen and instead peered at Zentzu. "As long as the couple views each other as almost equals, they can be as tall as they want in each other's eyes. Don't you think as well?"

"Pfft, What sort of twisted logic is that?" Sergen sneered. "So Geragorn conqueror is just a boy br.i.m.m.i.n.g with wishful thinking. How—"

Zentzu raised his hand, stopping Sergen in mid-speech. Zentzu looked at Lirzod in an enigmatic gaze. "I think you've given me a life-changing pointer. I will for sure think about this in the coming days and hopefully, will come to a decision."

"Yes. Take your time," Lirzod said. "One shouldn't rush in these sort of things."

"Life-changing pointer? It's more like a wife-changing pointer," the guard wanted to squeeze out a few words into their conversation, but he could only murmur to himself.

As anger stoked Sergen, Lirzod faintly smiled and savored the moment, however, he acted like he saw nothing. "I want to go to the office of the Seal Service. Can you show me the direction?"

"To the office huh … it's that way," Zentzu pointed his thumb to his left.

"Okay. I'll be going then," Lirzod began to walk away.

"Don't you want this book?" Zentzu showed the Surya Chand's book in his possession.

"No, I think it will be more loved in your hands," Lirzod couldn't help but remember the time he tore the paper from the book. He was lectured many times by Sasha for doing similar things in the past, and when he thought he had gotten rid of his bad habits, he found himself doing them again.

Zentzu exposed his teeth. "If you need money, come to me. I'll give it to you with reasonable interest."

Lirzod just grinned back in return.

Zentzu continued walking in a path different to the one Lirzod took. Seeing Lirzod leave, Sergen wanted to tail him and get things even with him, but he was forced to follow the one he had to.

"Commander, it's not my place to say this," Sergen said hesitantly, "but don't listen to his words. I wouldn't go as far as saying that he's tricking us, but he sure talks like a boy who left his home for the first time."

Zentzu coolly said, "I get what you mean. He did try to trick us after all."

Sergen was surprised, "What do you mean, commander? When?"

Zentzu appeared a bit amused. "That deaf part of him was a disguise."

Sergen's eyes enlarged. "Now that I remember, we didn't speak out loud after coming out of the library. So, he was putting up an act all this while?" His eyes looked like daggers, and a renewed swell of rage rose in him. "How dare he take us for fools?"

"Just let it go. Possibly, we drove him to react like that," Zentzu said and thought back for a moment. "He didn't seem to realize that he gave away his guise when he heard a soft caw made by the baby crow."

Sergen was startled. He couldn't help but be impressed with the commander. "As expected of you, commander. You are overqualified to stay on this deck."

At that time, a gray-haired woman came riding a big dog. She quickly got down from the dog and looked at Zentzu in eyes repleted with recreancy as if she was waiting for him to speak.

"Sista, I was thinking about visiting you," Zentzu's voice was sarcastic, "but look, you are as trusting as ever. You came all this way to save me the time and the trouble."

"Sir Zentzu," Sista couldn't look straight into his eyes, and she couldn't stand with her feet rooted either. "I know I'm late by two weeks, but in this time I've only been looking for ways to pay you back." She took out a small sack resting on her wasting and handed it to him.

After scanning its inside with a look, Zentzu smiled, "this doesn't even cover the interest."

"I-I know, but give me just one more month," Sista's pleaded with her voice, not exposing her face, "If I still fail to pay you by then, I will offer myself to you."

Sergen swallowed his saliva upon hearing that. Sista was a woman with curves which not just any man could comprehend in essence.

"Seems like you miscalculated me," Zentzu said, puzzling her a bit, "I made a deal with you not because of your beauty but because of..." His eyes lay on the dog behind her. It was almost a six-foot-tall dog with white and gray spots.

Sista's whole body shook down to the core when she saw Zentzu scan her dog. "No! You can't take Volt!" Her full-mouthed voice echoed in the street. Sergen involuntarily took a step back.

Zentzu, however, took a step forward as he put his hands behind his back. His eyes were as cold as the eyes of a wolf on a winter hunt. His stabbing stare made her flinch as a baby doe would upon seeing the stare of a wolf watching it from the distant woods.

"Your dog is bigger than all the shepherd dogs I have seen," Zentzu said, eyeing Volt, "and I believe it's not fully grown yet. I'm sure, selling it will easily pay off your debts and leave you with enough money to take you to the higher decks that you so much desire."

Sista knelt and touched his feet. "Please, just one chance," Her face reddened and tears rolled down her cheeks nonstop. Sergen's heart pained upon seeing her like that.

Maybe, we should give her a chance? That was what he wanted to tell, but he didn't dare to suggest his commander in his business affairs as he knew that he would potentially lose his job for doing that.

"If you want, you can make me your slave," Sista begged Zentzu, "until I pay off the debt. But let me keep Volt, please!"

Zentzu remembered the time when he first met Sista. When their eyes first met, he saw her face warp clearly from seeing his build. Remembering that instance, he smiled, "you had no problem when you took money from me. You should have considered all the possibilities back then. I clearly stated in our agreement that I will use whatever the method I see fit to get my money back. Now, why are you wasting my time?"

His words. .h.i.t her hard, and more tears streamed down her cheeks as she stood. "How can you treat a woman like this? How can you be so cold? Do you not have any heart?"

"I do have a heart, but it only cares for those who care for my deals," Zentzu said and stepped closer towards Volt who bent down his head. Zentzu rubbed Volt's chin, and she seemed to be enjoying it. "Guess your pet is immune to your tears. Look how good of a mood it's in."

Sista ground her teeth and seethed inwardly. But she came to him and requested him again. "Volt is a tough girl. But if my tears are worth anything to you, please give me a chance."

Zentzu raised one of his eyebrows. "You know, it's scary how pretentious you are unlike your looks. Thanks to the two women I grew up with when I was young, I came to realize one thing." Sista could only look at him with wet eyes, tear-soaked cheeks, and face down in dumps, whereas Sergen was listening to the words of his commander. "When reality strikes, women defend with waterworks."

Sista went speechless, and Sergen was wide-mouthed.

"And till now," Zentzu continued, "I was never once proven wrong." He looked at Sergen. "Restrain the dog." Saying that he began to walk away. "You know where your dog will be auctioned in a week. I guess I'll be seeing you there."

As Sergen took the dog and began to leave, Sista crumpled to her knees again. Volt glanced back at her once before s.h.i.+fting her gaze away.

Though rage rose in her like a tide, though sadness suffocated her from the inside, all she could do was remain silent.

Meanwhile, not too far away from that spot.

Ballu had taken care of the thieves by fetching their jewels and throwing them to the street dogs that made their way drawn by the stench. Holding his coin sack in the b.l.o.o.d.y hand, and another small pouch in the other hand, he began to walk away from the rubescent scene.

He looked inside the pouch that had dozens of small diamonds, "What a b.u.mmer. I was expecting to find a precious stone in it, but who wants these diamonds? I would barely get silver or two if I manage to sell all of these, but selling them is a real headache. Ugh, screw these," he threw the pouch to the side of the street and looked at his coin sack. "Tch... focused on these four, I forgot about handing the money to the commander. How should I find him now? Will he be in his room?" As he was thinking, he tossed four silver coins on the floor and said in a flat voice, "Take them to the tonic booth. Seal Service."

The street was silent for a few seconds. Three thieves were already unconscious, but the fourth one still writhed in an excruciating pain. With every pa.s.sing second, the two street dogs dirtied the floor with their droplets of saliva that dripped down their dangling tongues while they tried to close in on the thieves.

Forthwith, like a door that opened itself in the wall about fifty meters away from the spot, the vertically adjacent wooden planks that made the wall distanced from each other to expose the stream of water flowing horizontally within the wall. The inside of the stream was lightless, and nothing was visible.

A seal poked its head out of the water, also tearing through the air barrier around it, and scanned the surroundings once. Later, it jumped out of the water and onto the wooden floor of the street. The two street dogs—without a second thought—skedaddled the moment the seal landed on the floor.

The seal had a basket-like object attached to its back. The basket didn't have a lid but an air bubble acted in its place. A second later, three more seals came out from the water stream and got onto the streets. The four of them used their mouths to throw those four thieves up into the air and made sure they fell in those baskets.

After they got hold of the money, they took less to no time in clearing out the place, and as they did, they also used their bellies to rub over the blood marks on the floor, thereby cleansing it concurrently.

After they entered the water stream through the air barrier, the wooden planks arranged themselves again back into the place. If not for the transient water marks left by the seals, it would have looked like the seals never were at work in that street.