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Shambala Sect 82 Cowardice And Courage

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"Why are you not retorting?" the blonde youth couldn't help but step forward and ask for all to hear.

"Mm?" Lirzod glanced at the blonde youth before beaming out an ephemeral smile. "There isn't much a lion can do in the midst of flies."

All the mean mouths in the vicinity shut without question.

Though there was silence all around, everyone, who had laughed before, now felt so uncomfortable as if sitting on a rug of needles.

The blonde youth was greatly impressed by Lirzod's words and remembered a saying, 'a closed mouth catches no flies.' By saying nothing, he was giving them no chances to use against him.

"Hmph," one senior shoved aside all discomfort and spoke out, "did you challenge the master so you could beat him and take his place? If you have any such plans, then give up before you make a well-frog out of yourself. Trying to take our master's seat is like trying to catch the sun's rays!"

"Yeah," another senior trainee voiced his mind composedly, "to move a mountain, one must start by removing small stones. Fight with us first and prove to us that you're worthy of fighting our master!"

"Let's be honest," another senior trainee stepped in, "you just want our master's seat. All this acting as if you really care for that child is you trying to profit from the misfortune of others. How much lower can you stoop?"

"The wipers have just cleaned this portion of the hall. It's perfect for fighting. What are you waiting for? Do you dare to cross arms with us?"

Hundred deeply frowned upon realizing where the discussion was going. (Don't fall into their trap, Lirzod. They are luring you in for an unfair fight!) But then he also seemed interested in seeing how the teenager would respond.

"Just because a hundred flies are feeding off of a lion," Lirzod cleaned his nose with his little finger as his soliloquy gripped the men and nearly consumed their temper, "I don't need to take care of the flies first before going for the lion. Like I said before, I have no business with you flies. If you guys have even a s.h.i.+ver of common sense, then just bring your master already. I don't have all day. Got it?"

"This punk… how dare he treat us like we're some kind of lowlives!" some trainees in the rear lines of the crowd showed their frustration, and they couldn't stand still. The temperature in the vicinity suddenly rose due to the incandescence of their bodies, and vitriol gushed out of their mouths. "Either he's a somnambulist, or his eyes must be growing on his forehead!"

"Actually, he called us flies."

"No s.h.i.+t, sir!"

"He's acting all cool because he has sleek hair."

"Kids these days are predisposed to putting on airs. Let's show him the art of throwing someone out the window."

At that moment, the pupils began to clap and roar in delight in the distance, which only meant that the master had entered the hall.

"Finally," Sean cracked his knuckles in exhilaration, "someone with a backbone has stepped on my deck."


"Master, make waste of him!" the pupils voiced in their wishes.

"Heh, leave him to your master," Sean said sonorously and smiled with confidence. "I'll make sure his screams will wake his ancestors from eternal sleep!"

"Whoa, Master looks in a living mood today. He's going to beat the tar out of that challenger for sure!" all the pupils abandoned their routine and rushed in toward the center of the hall, and not one of them was willing to miss even a punch.

"Hey, our master is coming." Some pupils demanded Lirzod, "Show some manners by bowing to him."

"You guys are not one to talk about manners," Lirzod said in an irked tone, while his eyes tried to catch a glimpse of the master through the gaps in the crowd.

"So who's this daring feline that challenged me," Sean was cracking his knuckles. (The news says that Baba 'Silver' s.h.i.+nja, a man considered to have the power to destroy mountains with his fists was ambushed and killed by the Grim League. I don't know if it's true or not, but it proves once again that no matter how strong one is, they can't win all battles alone, and if they aren't careful, they'll perish soon enough. I don't know why, but it's stirring up my adrenaline just from imagining how their battle would have taken place.) He soon reached the center of the hall and lay his eyes on Lirzod, and his smile hit a break. (Huh?)

"You are…" Lirzod started to walk toward Sean. "Haha, it's you. I was about to come to you. Did you come here to watch the fight, too?"

"Uh, not really. I'm the master of this hall. Didn't you know?"

Lirzod shook his head. "Wait... what? You are the master?"

"Whew," Sean leaked out a long sigh. "Surprises are not ceasing today." He stood rooted to the spot. "Why were you looking for me?"

"Did you forget about lunch?" Lirzod asked in haste.

"What lunch?"

"You invited me. Don't you remember?"

Sean blinked a few times. "O-Oh, yeah, yeah, I do now."

As the two of them discussed, every trainee in the vicinity fell silent with dumbfounded faces.

"So you are their master," Lirzod patted on the commander's shoulders, startling everyone. "Let's finish the fight quickly and go for lunch."

All the pupils scratched their heads, not knowing what was going on. "Why's he talking like he's Master's best friend?"

As for Hundred, his face showed total amazement.

Sean, meanwhile, felt like he was put in a bind. (There's no way that 'Mad Monk' Everna could have healed such deep wounds completely. She must've healed him only a little and probably put more focus on fully healing his outer appearance, just like most healers do. After all, the best medicine a doctor can give is to make the patient believe they're healed. In any case, I can't fight with this boy right now and be proud of the win, but if I stop the fight without a valid reason, all the pupils will feel downhearted, and their productivity for today will plummet. What should I do?)

Just then, Lirzod's stomach grumbled. He rubbed the belly and smiled at Sean with no embarra.s.sment whatsoever.

Sean, however, found a way to resolve the situation. "Haha, hunger knows no holiday. It's not good to fight with a hungry stomach. So why not fight to see who can fill the stomachs more?"

"Hm?" Lirzod blinked twice. "What are you talking about?"

"Wow! Master, are you perhaps talking about…" one of the trainees expectantly asked.

"Yeah," Sean spoke aloud. "Clean the chamber of chefs and make known to every soul on this deck at once that it's time for the Kitchen Wars!"

"Whoa!" everyone in the hall got utterly excited from hearing their master's words and took off in different directions, leaving only a few with those two.

"Why is everyone in such a hurry?" Lirzod asked. "Where are they going?"

"You will know soon enough," Sean curled his arm around Lirzod's shoulder as they both walked, "but first tell me, did you really challenge me for a child, or..."

"It's for the child only," Lirzod replied in a low voice.

"Oh, that's kind of you," Sean said, but his face showed some disappointment. Now, the inkling of fighting urge still lingering in his veins vanished without a trace.

"Just who's that child?" Lirzod asked. "Doesn't he have parents?"

"Well, we've acquired some information on him after what he pulled off in the open," Sean patiently answered. "It seems he lost his mother recently, but instead of staying at a child booth, he came straight to this deck and attacked Big Nick. Considering Big Nick's past, that child may very well be his blood son, but we haven't received any confirmation on that yet. It's not easy to look up information that's many years old, but until we know exactly why he attacked Big Nick, we can't decide his future. For now, the cell is his home, and the prisoners are his friends and family."

"Can't we just question him?"

"We did, but he isn't saying a word," Sean said and smiled a little helplessly. "We can't interrogate him like we do the adults. But at least, it looks like he's not taking pride in what he did." He looked in the direction of the cells. "It may be a stupid mistake, but given his age, I'm afraid it will haunt him for many years to come if not the rest of his life. And if Big Nick is indeed his father, then I can only imagine how blackened his heart will come to be."

"This Big Nick is one of your pupils, huh," Lirzod was now able to string some things together.

"Yes."

"How's he doing now?" Lirzod couldn't help but ask.

"The future will tell," Sean's voice sounded indifferent, but his gaze was a bit emotional. "To his luck, it wasn't an adult who was holding the knife."

"Mm," Lirzod paused for a moment. "I… can I try talking with that child?"

Sean responded a bit late, "You are not related to him, are you?"

Lirzod slightly shook his head.

"Then there shouldn't be a problem."

"Mm?" Lirzod raised his brows. "Shouldn't it be the opposite?"

"Well, we don't know how many people he may be holding grudges on," Sean chortled and patted on Lirzod's shoulder. "It's better to be safe than sorry, right?"

"Y-Yeah," Lirzod looked quite surprised. He never considered that Beren might be holding more grudges. This drove him to go and know about him even more. "I think I'll go and talk with him a bit."

"Sure, but come to the chamber of chefs in an hour. It's only a few blocks away. That's where we'll compete." Saying that Sean ordered one of the senior trainees to a.s.sist Lirzod and then left.

Soon after Sean separated, Hundred walked up to Lirzod. "What were you guys talking about?" His voice contained both excitement and fear.

"Nothing you'd want to know about," Lirzod let out a long breath, and the trainees became so lively in the background. "But did you notice that these disciples look happy all of a sudden even though one of them was hurt badly. What the heck is wrong with them?"

"Nothing wrong if you ask me," Hundred shrugged his shoulders and put his hands on the back of his head. "The forest does not grieve for the loss of a tree."

"Big Nick isn't big enough, huh," Lirzod took a breath and curled his hand around Hundred's shoulder, surprising him a little.

Feeling Lirzod's weight on him, Hundred sighed. "You are even struggling to be on your feet for long. What would you have done if the commander decided to fight with you?"

"There's no point in thinking about that now," Lirzod was clutching his chest. "I hope this uneasy feeling in me goes away after my stomach's full."

"Ah, I forgot to mention this before, but it's better that you avoid fancy foods when you're this worn out, or you might upset your stomach even more. I'd say that you just take some simple foods that won't put too much burden on your stomach."

"Simple foods? There's only bread on this deck."

���Yeah, so bread should be enough," Hundred bluntly stated.

"E-Enough? Bread alone isn't gonna fill my belly to the brim. I want to eat something better."

"I'm not sure how many times you've tasted the bread on this s.h.i.+p, but everyone in these lower decks lives on bread, you know."

"But these loaves of bread... they don't last long, right? Don't that mean many people eat spoiled food? What if I get some of that bad food?"

"We have booth owners to make sure that such things don't happen. And the bread doesn't last long because it is natural, or pure might be more appropriate. Nothing's taken out of them, and nothing's added. They don't have the junk as you'd find in the outside world that brings bread more shelf time, so the bread here is easy on the stomach, which is why it won't upset your stomach."

"Mm, I won't say that the bread on this s.h.i.+p tastes great, but it's definitely not bad. Actually, it's much better compared to dried meat. However, variety is the spice of life, and right now, I want to eat something different. "

"Well, you may not know it now, but you'll miss this bread when you leave this s.h.i.+p. And let's not forget that it's being given to us for free. Those who grew up in dest.i.tute families that barely had enough food to eat will gladly enjoy this bread. But in my opinion, no matter the lifestyle of a person, it's a perfect food that can be eaten at any time as long as you don't eat too much."

"Too much?" Lirzod smiled a little, rather helplessly. "When that's the only thing people are giving and selling, what else can you eat?"

"You've roamed some of the streets, so you should know that there are different fruit-bearing trees you can find here and there."

"Yeah, but I couldn't find a single fruit on any of these so-called fruit-bearing trees," Lirzod complained.

"Well, the compet.i.tion for them is high after all," Hundred paused for a while. "However, for those who can be patient, there's another way."

"What's that?" Lirzod's voice contained eagerness.

"It's the Foster Wheel, also known as the wheel of fruits and vegetables," Hundred spoke in a formal tone, "but you can gain many other things from that wheel, too."

"Wow," Lirzod immediately stood straight. "Where's that wheel?"

"Don't get too excited," Hundred responded quickly.

"Why not?" Lirzod impatiently asked.

"Every sector on this s.h.i.+p has only one Foster Wheel. Since we're on the twelfth deck, our Foster Wheel takes care of all decks from ten to nineteen. We're told that the wheel is always rotating and that it drops food and items on any deck randomly; however, it makes sure that there's at least one drop on every deck within a continuous span of ten days."

"Oh... now I get why you said it's only for the patient people," Lirzod put his finger on his chin. "You never know if the food will even be dropped on a given day. Still, among those who wait, won't there be a fight for the food then?"

"Of course," Hundred said as if speaking from experience. "On some decks, they fight for it. On some other decks, they use simple games to decide who gets the food. It all depends on the rules that the deck commander set, basically. You get to sell clothes and other items, but as long as you don't sell the food that you've acquired from the wheel, you won't be in trouble."

"Where does this wheel drop food?" Lirzod couldn't control his curiosity all that much.

"In the Foster Hall," Hundred said, looking once at Beren from afar. "The physically-disabled ones and the kids between the ages of seven and fourteen can survive on this s.h.i.+p, thanks to the bread booths, but these same people get to eat other foods now and then thanks to the Foster Hall. These are two important sources for s.h.i.+ppers[1]."

"The trip to this hall should be great," Lirzod said while imagining things.

"Yeah, but what really surprised me is that I've seen cowards turn into courageous characters in that hall," Hundred widened his eyes as he spoke. "I guess, as Dad of Doom once said, 'cowardice and courage are only intestines apart.'" Hundred sighed deeply. "Hunger surely is a hair-raising desire."

"So this s.h.i.+p is doing a good job in bringing out the valor in people, even though it's for their own survival." Lirzod faintly smiled and seemed impressed. That's not an easy thing to pull off.

Hundred shook his head. "There are still many people who fear to roam these streets much less attempt deck tests. So I don't really agree with you on that note."

"Well, there's no perfect approach to some things in this world. There will be those that disagree. Besides, I doubt if one can be forced to be fearless."

"So you're telling me to shut my mouth indirectly," Hundred gave an icy look.

"I can't help you if you feel that way, hehe."

"I guess I like it when you are more candid," Hundred voiced his mind.

"I'm speaking heart-to-heart, you know," Lirzod did the same.

"No, you're not. When you are open, you are easier to cope with."

"Now, you are being too frank with your presumptions, haha, but I like it," Lirzod put his arm back around Hundred's shoulder, causing him to bend his spine. "You remind me of someone from my clan."

"Oh, who?"

"Someone who serves the Pudota family."

"Pu, what?"

As they discussed, they both almost reached the prisoner cells.

A few trainees were playing cards near the cells, while some were busy releasing some prisoners for work. They would only play during the break time, but those who won the game would generally get to beat the prisoners.

Currently, the trainees were talking about Beren, cracking jokes even.

"I still can't believe that a kid did such a thing."

"A kid doesn't hold a knife to kill. That fool is not a kid."

"True. He doesn't talk much with us, but he's been talking about this and that with the prisoners, and the funny thing was that he thinks that the Song of the s.h.i.+p is real."

"Keke. The kids born on this s.h.i.+p grow up to be more clueless than monkeys. They always dream of dreamed-up things. Those are s.h.i.+ppers for you!"

"Haha, couldn't have said it better."

"Hey, kid. Here's your Song of the s.h.i.+p," the fattest one in the group lifted his b.u.t.t and farted in Beren's direction.

"Pfft! Puhahaha!" every trainee burst into laughter, so hard that their stomachs hurt.

Sitting in a knee-hugging pose, Beren could hear their words, but he tried not to show any emotion on his face. His arms, however, clutched his biceps in frustration.

.........

[1] s.h.i.+pper: A person born on Exvo.


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