The Freak Show Foreman

The next day, we had lunch early and left our accommodations.

As befitting a first-class hotel, there was always a well-dressed bellhop waiting in the lobby.

"Where would you like to be escorted today, sir?"

It was the same bellhop who had driven Anais and me yesterday.

"Please take us to the Rose Windmill, my good man."

The bellhop nodded politely and opened the carriage door.

"Are you going to see a performance today?"

"Yes."

"Shall I take you directly to your destination, or would you like to arrive in time for the performance? Depending on the time, you can also visit other attractions in Luz."

Indeed. It lived up to its reputation as a first-class hotel.

It was considerate of them to help us avoid wasting time by arriving at the theatre early.

I threw a questioning look at Ella.

She shook her head.

"Never mind. We’re not just going to see the performance. It’s the venue for the preliminary rounds, so it’s good to arrive early and check out things like seating, the hall, and the atmosphere of the theatre."

The bellhop said it would take about 20 minutes to reach our destination.

"Isn’t this very comfortable?"

The hotel carriage was far more comfortable than the travel carriage we had been using.

She sat down and shifted in her seat from time to time.

Each time she did, her beige dress rustled along with her movements.

She had always worn a long coat like a red circus ringmaster’s uniform with golden epaulettes.

It was the first time I had seen her in such ordinary clothes.

"Why do you keep staring?"

"Well, Ella, you have such clothes too?"

She replied with a mumble as if making excuses.

"Well... I mean, I can’t go to someone else’s theatre wearing a Ringmaster’s uniform, right? It would draw too much attention... It wouldn’t be appropriate as an audience member. It’s like advertising ’I’m participating in the Circus Grand Prix’ for no reason... I, I’m not used to these clothes either!

Even though it looks strange..."

I burst into laughter at her words.

Strange?

"It suits you well."

"Hmph. Why are you saying things like this..."

Ella turned her gaze out the window.

Her face had turned even redder than before.

I felt a little awkward.

This compliment wasn’t a calculated move to raise her favorability.

It was sincere.

Seeing her in an ordinary dress, I could now truly feel that she was a 16-year-old girl.

"Today, Ivonne is playing the leading role."

When the Rose Windmill came into view in the distance, the bellhop pointed to the sign.

The sign for Cabaret that was filled with sensual illustrations and phrases in the game.

Now, since it was daytime, there was an illustration of the performance scheduled for today.

The largest one depicted a woman with red hair, dressed like a princess.

"Is she a famous actress?"

"Of course. There’s no one in this city who doesn’t know Ivonne. She’s so famous that she’s called ’The Flower of Luz.’"

Ivonne?

It was a name I had never heard before. She hadn’t appeared in the game.

However, I had heard that nickname before.

The Flower of Luz.

But the owner of that nickname that I knew was someone else.

"Do you happen to know a singer or actress named Shaila? Maybe she’d be in her mid-teens by now."

"Shaila? Well, there are a few actresses of that age in the Rose Windmill, but I’m not sure."

Is she not famous now?

Shaila, the Flower of Rouge.

Four and a half years later, she would be known by that nickname.

The carriage dropped us off in front of the Rose Windmill and departed.

There were about two hours left until the performance.

Before entering inside, we walked around the theatre.

"It’s quite big, indeed. In Vegas, there were only a couple of theaters this size."

I nodded in agreement with her words.

The cabaret building was larger than most multiplex malls I had seen in reality.

"It seems to be designed more to let light from the inside out rather than bringing in outside light. It’s interesting. I bet it shines like a lighthouse at night, like the building alone would attract customers. Just by its architecture!"

Ella, with her light and energetic steps, passed me by and circled the exterior of the theatre carefully.

She seemed to be in a good mood, maybe even singing occasionally.

[Ella’s favorability has increased by 1. Current favorability: 17 (Next reward: Favorability 30)]

I thought maybe I should bring her to places like this more often.

She seemed to be in her element at performances.

Maybe raising her favorability would be easier than I expected.

After circling the theatre, we returned to the entrance, and the atmosphere had changed quite a bit since earlier.

The scattered crowd had gathered in one place.

My dear sister, who had lost her smile.

Look at me and bring back that spring day.

A man was singing on a stage at knee height.

His face, his voice.

I recognized him immediately.

He was Paris, the actor who could be considered the star of the Rose Windmill.

But why was that gentleman singing there?

"That’s an Agapene."

Ella said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Agapene? What’s that?"

"...I’m sometimes surprised by your ignorance. You’re a circus director, right? Agapene is a technique often used in performances with music. It’s a way to give a preview of the songs that will be performed in front of the theater. It’s like showing the confession part of a romantic play or the resolution part of a revenge drama.

It can attract people who didn’t originally plan to watch the performance and build anticipation among those who are waiting to see it. They usually have lower-ranking actors from inside the theater perform it. But he’s singing Agapene so well, isn’t he? Look at the crowd that’s gathered around."

That’s right.

Four and a half years later, he would become the number one actor at the Rose Windmill.

He must have an incredible talent.

We joined the crowd and enjoyed Paris’s performance.

He sang so well that when the preview part ended, the crowd demanded that he continue singing.

"Well, the rest of it... you should see it inside the theatre"

"Oh, I already bought the tickets! We’re going in. We’re going. It’s not like I’m going to stop in the middle of this! Finish what you were singing!"

"Yeah! Why do you keep pulling out when you have a chance?!"

However, despite his talent, he lacked experience on stage, and his inexperience was evident.

I could tell because I had been a YouTuber.

Dealing with such demands required firmness or flexibility, depending on the situation.

If the demand was reasonable, it was important to respond appropriately, even if it meant slightly altering the schedule.

But Paris was just floundering, not knowing how to handle it.

That would only irritate the audience, including those who had no other intention than to watch the performance.

"Why does he keep hesitating instead of just refusing? He is not cut out for this."

Ella seemed to be thinking along the same lines as she stood next to me.

She clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"It’s natural not to be able to sing the back part. It’s a duet that requires someone to receive it."

"Is that so? Then why not just say it can’t be done..."

However, even though I didn’t know much about singing, I knew that Paris was just acting helpless without a plan.

If you don’t handle this properly, even those who were just watching might get annoyed.

So what can we do?

What should we do?

"That’s right... sigh."

Ella suddenly released my arm and stepped forward.

I grabbed her shoulders.

"Ella, what’s wrong?"

"I thought I’d help a bit."

"How? Do you know the song?"

"Are you kidding?"

Ella turned to me with a smile.

"I sung all the Christie’s works before I was 10."

Pushing through the crowd, Ella walked up to the stage.

Her stride was so confident that people instinctively made way for her.

As she stepped onto the stage, something about her demeanor suddenly changed.

A timid gait.

Hunched shoulders.

Lowered head.

Nervous fidgeting fingers.

It was the unmistakable image of a "shy servant girl."

Then, her mouth opened, and the song began to flow.

It wasn’t the voice I was used to hearing from her.

It was the voice of a woman deeply in love, somewhere in her sadness and longing.

"I’m right here, right next to you. Turn around, my master. I’ve always been by your side."

The buzzing crowd fell silent in an instant.

No one could take their eyes off Ella’s performance.

With each word she sang, you could feel the heart breaking sorrow of the servant girl who loved her master unconditionally.

Amidst the hushed audience, she finished her song.

I lost track of time.

Paris, who had been watching her sing in a daze, quickly snapped out of it.

Though he looked composed, he was a skilled performer on stage as well.

He began singing in response.

They exchanged verses a few times, and their duet came to an end.

The audience erupted in enthusiastic applause.

Paris, still bowing in all directions, wrapped up the performance.

But the girl he had partnered with was already gone from the stage.

She had silently returned to my side.

"Wow, it’s been a while since I stood on stage."

"..."

"What’s wrong? Something strange?"

I looked at her with a burning gaze.

A prepared line to increase her favorability.

My genuine feelings.

It was the first time our intentions had aligned.

"You were amazing."

"Hmph."

She chuckled lightly and turned her head.

But she didn’t seem displeased.

[Ella’s favorability has increased by 1. Current favorability: 18 (Next reward: Favorability 30)]

"By the way, you’ve been teaching the troupe members all these talents, haven’t you? There’s nothing you can’t do, Ella."

"...Ugh, so noisy."

[Ella’s favorability has decreased by 1. Current favorability: 19 (Next reward: Favorability 30)]

Oops, that was a mistake.I guess she can’t take a compliment sometimes.

While we were talking, the stage for Agape was dismantled.

The theatre staff came out and carried away the makeshift stage and banners.

But Paris’s hurried departure towards the theatre seemed urgent.

***

Hall 1, the largest hall at the Rose Windmill.

An hour before the performance, the atmosphere among the troupe members gathered here was somber.

An accident had occurred.

Ivonne, the lead actress of this play, had been struck when a prop cabinet suddenly collapsed while she was passing by.

"What’s the situation?"

A chubby man in a suit spoke up.

"Um..."

One of the actors who had accompanied him to the hospital hesitated.

The chubby man impatiently urged, "Be honest! Tell me everything!"

"Well, you see... while handling props, a medicine bottle broke, causing a chemical burn on the face... and the fragments caused extensive injuries. Even if we use alchemical potions, the doctor said the scars will still be prominent..."

Upon hearing the actor’s words, the chubby man pounded his chest in distress.

Bouvallet, the owner of the Rose Windmill Cabaret, was someone who prioritized the theatre’s profits above all else. Cancelling a single performance wasn’t a big deal, but losing Ivonne was the problem. Now that she had reached adulthood and could perform on the night stage, her face was ruined. If that was the case, it would be over.

While they opened the stage during the day for the local residents, the essence of the Rose Windmill was the cabaret. The profits from the night performances far exceeded those of the day.

However, losing their biggest prospect for the next three years was a devastating blow.

"Bouvallet."

"Ah, it’s over. What do we do now?"

"Bouvallet."

"What was the point of raising her... thinking I could make a big profit..."

"Hey, Bouvallet, you pig!"

Only the theater’s chief supervisor, an elderly man, dared to call Bouvallet a pig.

"No, Director."

Apart from the elderly theatre director, no one else could call him that.

"...Well, it’s unfortunate about Ivonne. But you know, the show..."

"It must go on!"

In the entertainment industry, it was like a rule.

The show must go on, no matter what accidents or circumstances occurred.

"So, let’s first worry about the performance in an hour."

"I... I can’t do it. Director, you handle it. Sob."

Bouvallet left, tears and sweat flowing equally from his face. Maroine, who usually didn’t like Bouvallet’s light-hearted behavior, remained silent this time. Ivonne was someone he cherished...

"Director, who should play the lead role?"

"First, let the auditions decide, starting with Ivonne. Then..."

"Shaila."

"Shaila? She’s only 14, how can she..."

"Ah, shut up. Shaila will play the lead."

No one dared to object to Maroine’s decision.

Yug Maroine, who had led the Rose Windmill’s Day and night for over ten years, was the director and a charismatic figure of the cabaret.

"So, who will play the role of the maid that Shaila was supposed to do? None of us have practiced for the maid role..."

"Well..."

Maroine hesitated.

The maid role wasn’t significant in this play. Training one actor for an hour or so would be the best solution. However, Maroine, a perfectionist, couldn’t easily accept such a stage.

But when he considered the idea of disguising Shaila so that she played both roles, he hesitated.

"Director."

"Yes?"

A newcomer actor who hadn’t even been with them for a year stepped forward. The others watched in silence. Even seasoned actors couldn’t speak up against Maroine.

But this fearless newcomer was someone Maroine had been keeping an eye on. He was a young talent with great potential.

"I think there’s someone who can take on that maid role..."

Paris.

The audacious young man who had dared to criticize and praise Ivonne’s acting. If he said this, it meant he had confidence in his abilities.

"Who is it?"