The Freak Show Foreman

Sebjeong's reign faced an unexpected political crisis just one year after her coronation.

It all began with a letter he held in his hands.

It wasn't a petition for independence from some province, a claim of someone declaring themselves queen, or even a eulogy containing slander against the monarch herself.

It was Gascon Halidon's resignation letter, the greenhouse gardener.

Some might question why the retirement of a mere gardener would lead to a political crisis. Although he served as the gardener at the monarch's residence, his tasks were no different from those of gardeners elsewhere. His work primarily involved tending to flowers and trimming trees.

However, his presence had a significant impact on the agricultural production at the monarch's residence.

The only agricultural product coming from here was the golden tomato, referred to as the Queen's Gracious Gift.

In the days when the queen personally cared for the tomato trees, they yielded over a hundred golden tomatoes each year. However, since her disappearance, the tomato production had been steadily declining.

The tomato trees withered away like a dog waiting for its absent owner. Despite the efforts of gardeners from across the country gathering and consulting, they couldn't restore the tomato production.

After thirty years of disappearance, the harvest had dwindled to less than ten.

The political status of the ruling Sebjeong family, who took it upon themselves to manage the tomato greenhouse, also plummeted accordingly.

Then, thirty years ago, Gascon Halidon, a genius gardener, appeared and restored the harvest to thirty.

There was no fixed method to how he cultivated the tomato trees. Sometimes he played the piano to serenade them, other times he carefully wiped the branches with a warm cloth, and occasionally, he even used dragon dung as fertilizer.

When asked about his methods, Gascon would reply with cryptic words, "Listen to the sound the tree makes."

For thirty years, the tomato trees consistently produced golden tomatoes.

However, now he suddenly expressed his desire to retire, and as the new monarch, Sebjeong couldn't help but see it as a political crisis.

That's why he cancelled his afternoon schedule and urgently arranged a meeting with the gardener.

"Sir, how can you leave so suddenly?"

Sebjeong used the term of address he used in his childhood, trying to appeal to him emotionally.

He had always tried to maintain authority since ascending to Charlotia's position. So, the fact that he was pleading with an old man like a child indicated the significance of this matter.

But even the persuasion from Sebjeong , the most powerful figure in Charlotia, couldn't change the old man's decision.

"I am aware of my limitations and intend to step down."

"Sir, what makes you think you're lacking? Mr. Halidon, you are the world's greatest gardener, aren't you? Please be honest. Is it because of insufficient pay?"

Gascon slowly raised his head.

"Please think of it as for the sake of the future."

"The future?"

"Yes. I will bring in someone who can succeed me, or rather, someone more exceptional than me."

"Is there really someone like that?"

Sebjeong asked with a softened voice.

If he was looking for a successor, that would be good news.

But whether it was possible remained uncertain.

He had tried to find a successor several times before, but none of the candidates caught his eye.

"There is. Without a doubt."

With Sebjeong additional assurances, Gascon was finally able to leave.

Leaving the Sebjeong residence, he carried a travel bag and boarded a carriage.

Looking at the distant sky, he murmured.

"There's no one else but him."

Gascon Halidon.

At the age of 68, he left his position as the gardener of the tomato greenhouse, setting out on a journey to bring back the young apprentice he had marked.

***

The elderly priest, Tisianne, of the Luz Church looked at the guest sitting in the sanctuary with displeasure in her eyes.

The Church of the Holy Spirit had the duty to protect guests at all times, known as the Sanctuary.

In the past, when the church's authority was strong, even individuals accused of serious crimes like murder or robbery could find refuge here, immune to arrest by the police.

While the duty of the sanctuary still existed, there was no obligation for the priest to be fond of someone who went against her personal moral beliefs.

The priest could sense an unpleasant odor from the man sitting in front of her, a type of smell that others couldn't detect. Once, who served as an inquisitor at the Tribunal of Heresy, only he could handle such odors.

She wrinkled her nose, detecting a strong presence of magic.

"It seems I'm not to your liking," the man said.

The priest looked embarrassed at his words, but she couldn't afford to be rude; after all, the guest before her was sent from above. She couldn't act disrespectfully.

The man raised both arms to show he meant no harm. "I understand. You probably didn't expect the leader of the team investigating the 'Black Magician' to be a magician himself."

Before the opening of the Circus Grand Prix, notifications were sent to various churches, instructing them to send anyone with information on the Black Magician to the higher authorities. Rumor had it that a team from six nations had gathered to track down the Black Mage.

Tisianne learned of the incident in Dosville long after the trial case exploded in the cabaret. It seemed too far-fetched to be related to the Black Magician, especially considering the trial itself was exposed as a political scheme and the Black Magician's name was mentioned only once at the very end.

Nevertheless, even the slightest piece of information seemed crucial, prompting the authorities to send someone to investigate. Unexpectedly, the leader of the team himself came, and the fact that he was a mage was beyond her imagination.

The priest submitted a brief report summarizing the incident, so the investigator requested more detailed information. However, since it happened two months ago and the priest didn't delve into the details, she couldn't provide much beyond what was covered in magazines and newspapers.

"I heard there was a police officer who investigated the case," he said.

Upon his words, Tisianne recalled a young sergeant from the mounted police force, with whom she had been acquainted. It felt like a distant memory when they had dealt with acrobats causing a ruckus together, inserting some order into them.

"Sabo, right? He was transferred to a remote area," she replied.

"Well, is it possible to meet the leader of the circus troupe involved in the incident?"

"That won't be possible. The Wonderstein Circus left Luz three days ago."

Disappointed, the team leader put down the report. "What about investigative materials related to the case?"

"I heard you were coming yesterday, so I tried to retrieve them, but due to political issues, it seems they were simply discarded. Oh, wait. There is one person. He was involved as the accused in the case and might have read all the investigative materials."

The team leader's face brightened at the news. "Where is he?"

"It's quite convenient. He's currently a guest at the church."

Tisianne led him to a small attic in the church, where Lord Dosville, now reduced to a beggar's appearance, awaited. As he woke up from his sleep, he instinctively sensed danger upon seeing the man in front of him.

In the past, he might have confidently confronted the questioning man, tearing into him to extract answers. However, after being harassed by creditors and utilizing the sanctuary to survive, he had become timid.

He answered the man's questions honestly. Listening to his explanation, the team leader nodded.

Indeed, the incident was not worth their attention. It was merely a farce caused by the political schemes of nobles and the speculations of investigators.

The team leader regretfully thought he had wasted his time.

Nevertheless, he had come in anticipation of finding some clues related to the incident at the Circus Grand Prix. Disappointed, he stood up.

The old priest suggested he rest for the night, as it was getting late. However, he was not oblivious enough to mistake her well-intentioned words.

"No, I must leave now. I'm meeting with colleagues not far from here."

Above all, it was ludicrous for the Apostle of Magic to be dependent on the church.

***

The Nevada desert north of Vegas.

In its entrance, there used to be a small town called Alamo in the past.

The reason for using the past tense was that it no longer existed in the present.

About a year ago, Alamo was wiped out in a sudden attack by demons.

Alamo was just an ordinary town where travelers passing through the wasteland would rest their weary necks.

There was one peculiar aspect to it.

Namely, there was a school that taught circus skills to orphaned children with nowhere else to go.

It was one of the places that sprang up hastily to address the shortage of circus performers after the Circus Grand Prix terror 17 years ago.

The children there also met their demise a few months ago in the same incident.

The appearance of demons meant that this area was loosely connected to the Abyss.

The survivors abandoned the town and moved elsewhere.

On the hill next to the town, there were erected hundreds of graves.

The surviving people roughly assembled them after salvaging the bodies.

They looked shabby, perhaps because they were made by tearing apart wooden boards.

A young man stood there.

In his early twenties, he had a tall stature and brown curly hair.

He gently caressed each grave with eyes filled with sorrow.

Not a single child had no memories, and there was no child left without a lasting impression.

He sighed and looked up at the sky.

"Is it really true?"

His question was met by a small freckled boy standing a bit away from him. He understood the meaning behind the young man's question, devoid of a subject or object.

"Really. I've said it many times."

"It's just hard to believe."

"Damn, it's hard for us to believe too! Could it be… Ella, my sister…"

The boy swallowed the impending tears and turned his head.

The young man approached and tapped his back.

"Sorry. I asked a pointless question again."

"No, it's… We find it hard to believe too."

Watching the boy shedding tears, the young man wore a bitter expression.

The young man and Ella were like family, having spent their childhood together.

They often competed for the top two ranks in school.

Ella, as he knew her, was an amazing girl with endless talent for acrobatics.

She was tougher than anyone, yet bright and affectionate.

That she summoned demons and killed everyone in the town, including school friends, was unthinkable.

Even if he heard the same story from all the surviving kids, he wouldn't have believed it without seeing the pictures.

"Captain!"

A girl in her late teens ran towards him from below the hill.

In her hand, she held a magazine.

The young man looked at the pictures on the page she was offering.

Although the photos of this era were not clear and sharp, there was no difficulty in recognizing the faces of people he already knew.

Among them, a girl in circus attire in one photo caught his eye.

It was undoubtedly someone he knew.

"Ella."

Just a moment ago, the young man's heart was in turmoil.

He was far away when the incident occurred, so he couldn't feel the reality even after hearing the explanation from the surviving kids.

But looking at her expression in the photo, he felt something surging within him.

She was smiling brightly.

Having observed her for many years, he could see through her acting.

That wasn't acting.

She was genuinely laughing happily.

Even after the deaths of their loved ones.

And the sorrows of the survivors.

She seemed like someone who didn't know anything.

The young man regarded her as a completely unfamiliar person.

'What are you doing there?

Our comrades have died.

Master has fallen.

Why are you laughing there?

Huh?'

"What are we going to do?"

In response to the girl's question, the young man folded the magazine and looked up.

"Did you tell master?"

"No, he will surely stop me."

Since that incident, the master had been lying in the Vegas hospital.

Not only physically injured, but also deeply wounded in his heart for not being able to prevent the deaths of his disciples in front of his eyes.

He told the children not to care about this matter at all.

He told them not to talk to anyone about it. It would be dangerous for everyone.

He offered to help them find a place in another circus and advised them to forget and live quietly.

Some of the surviving children left like that.

But there were children who couldn't forget.

Including five students, including the young man.

"We were all family. The world may easily forget orphans like us, but we must not forget. Future, career, and all that don't matter. I will seek revenge."

The girl said so and looked at the young man with suspicious eyes.

It seemed that she was bothered by the fact that he had been indecisive and wavering until now.

"But can the captain do it? The captain liked Ella."

At her words, the young man blushed slightly.

"That's not for you to say."

"…About half of the school kids liked Ella."

A big boy came up from below the hill, carrying a pile of baggage on his back.

And on top of that baggage, a girl in clown attire held a dagger and stared at the young man with a lively glint in her eyes.

"Why hesitate? Liked her? What does that matter? That girl is a traitor! Let's kill her! Let's kill Ella!"

"Yeah."

The young man nodded.

He looked at the children gathered here and spoke.

"It's better to leave now if you're leaving. I've never seen the devil you're talking about, and I can't guarantee survival against it."

"Don't worry."

"We're going together."

"Our goal is the same! Devils or whatever, it doesn't matter. We just need to kill that girl!"

"I will never back down either."

The young man looked towards the distant north, clenching his fist.

The hesitant feelings were blown away by the wind.

He thought of the graves of his friends and Ella's bright smiling face.

They overlapped.

And he swore to muster the nonexistent hatred.

Ella.

He would kill her.

And he would avenge his friends.

The five people harboring resentment towards one person set out on their journey.