His alias, the Black Magician, had beco quite tireso even in the ga.
"The opponent is the Black Magician."
"I heard you defeated the Black Magician once. Give up; no one can rival the Black Magician’s power."
All the characters from the ga were familiar with that nickna. At the ti, it had seed like he had built up quite a reputation.
However, that nickna had a clear origin. The mysterious figure who had attacked the Grand Prix circus in the past.
Bouvalle briefly ntioned the na and didn’t bring it up again. It wasn’t appropriate to talk about an elusive criminal during a opening ceremony.
The atmosphere definitely changed once that na was ntioned. The acrobats sitting on the terrace looked different, their eyes filled with fear, sadness, and hatred alternating on their faces.
Bouvalle must have sensed the change in atmosphere, as he quickly moved on to the next stage after the opening ceremony ended.
"Now, we have prepared a celebratory performance on our side!"
As he gave the signal, the waiting orchestra began to play.
The Rose Windmill Cabaret’s specialty: the Cancan. Dancers in high heels took the stage, shaking their skirts vigorously to the lively music, extending their legs gracefully. The sight of dozens of perfectly toned, snow-white legs moving flawlessly resembled a flock of swans gracefully gliding across the water.
Every ti the dancers’ legs were revealed, there were admiring gasps and whistles from the audience.
"Wow, the ladies’ legs are amazing!"
"Hey, turn around here too, please!"
"Would you like to make a bet with tonight?"
The language coming from the gentlen’s mouths was far from refined, but their expressions were more decent than their words.
There was no sign of discomfort on the faces of the spectators. What might be considered offensive outside was not harassnt in this setting. Instead, responding loudly was a matter of etiquette.
If the audience remained seated while the dancers perford, they would be treated as uninterested individuals. If the audience didn’t smile or throw complints when the dancers made eye contact, they would think they were being ignored.
Ella had taught the etiquette of the cabaret. Fortunately, our balcony seats allowed us to simply applaud in ti with the beat.
"They’re all so beautiful, aren’t they?" Anais said, and I nodded my head without hesitation.
I had been caught in this pattern several tis before. If I responded positively without thinking, she would reply with sothing like this.
"Then why aren’t you applauding, sir? Do you not know how to whistle?"
But after waiting for a mont, the teasing I had expected didn’t co. When I looked back, she was staring at with a smile, her chin resting on her hand.
"Why not? It’s a great performance. I’m enjoying it."
This was its own form of hardship. The sight of her smiling with her eyes was almost frightening.
I almost preferred how things used to be in the past.
At that mont, Bouvalle returned to the stage.
As he raised his hand, the dancers froze in place, the music faded, and the lights dimd. A spotlight from below illuminated the ceiling.
All eyes turned upward.
"Allow to introduce the pride of our Rose Windmill! A singer who takes the night stage at the young age of 19! The Flower of Luz, Ivonne!"
A pair of ropes descended from the ceiling. It was a swing.
On the plank suspended between the ropes was a woman with lush red hair, wearing a deep crimson silk dress that revealed her thighs, fishnet stockings, and a wide-brimd hat that almost covered her shoulders. Below, her face was as white as snow, with provocative red lips.
When the spotlight shone on her face, there were gasps of awe from the audience.
Her beauty, perfectly adorned, was several tis more stunning than when I saw her in the hospital days ago.
"She truly is the Flower of Luz!"
"I’ve been a mber of her fan club for three years!"
"Wow! Ivonne! Ivonne! Ivonne!"
The arrival of a true star representing the theatre was t with an extraordinary response.
Her na echoed throughout the hall.
With the audience’s cheers, she began to swing around the hall, even though it was dozens of ters high. She casually crossed her legs and waved to the guests on the terrace seats, occasionally lowering her body with just her legs hanging on the swing.
Initially, so guests scread, thinking she was slipping, but they soon realized she was skillfully bouncing back to her position, and they cheered in excitent.
Swinging down from the fourth floor, the rope gradually extended to the third, then the second floor.
Finally, she descended over the heads of the guests at the table seats.
Ivonne gracefully bowed to the entire audience, bending at the waist.
Enthusiastic cheers and applause followed.
With the main vocalist’s appearance, the real performance of the cabaret was about to begin.
The lights returned, and the band resud playing.
The lively piano performance was a perfect fit for Ivonne’s na as the Flower of Luz.
Anyone who heard that song would find it hard to sit still.
"The secret is a woman’s greatest charm!"
"Tears are a woman’s most potent weapon!"
"Jewels are a woman’s best friend!"
Most of the guests on the first floor stood up and started dancing. Even the dignified diplomats, who one wouldn’t expect to enjoy such activities, joined in with so graceful moves. After all, appreciating the local culture of the host country might be considered a diplomat’s virtue.
The most eye-catching among them was Viscount Dosville, who had previously challenged Anais. With one of the dancers, he displayed an extravagant dance performance, keeping pace with her steps so skillfully that it was challenging for even the dancer to keep up.
It was clear that he was not a novice when it ca to the cabaret.
From the lower floor, soone added harmonies to Ivonne’s singing with a loud voice. There was no need to look down; that voice belonged to Minova the Rooster. He could produce a powerful sound without vocal amplification equipnt. It was his specialty.
His singing filled the hall with a powerful resonance.
His performance was remarkable.
Despite this rude interruption into the main vocalist’s show, people couldn’t help but admire his talent. Ivonne also pointed to the balcony seat where he was and gave him a thumbs-up, harmonizing with him.
Glancing at the adjacent seat, I noticed that Anais’ face no longer bore the lancholy expression.
She was now dancing along, shoulders bouncing, and even singing along with the music.
My heart felt a bit lighter.
As ti passed, the atmosphere of the show continued to intensify.
On the first floor, there was hardly anyone sitting anymore.
Everyone crowded around the stage, enthusiastically shaking their bodies.
The orchestra, led by Director Yug Maroine, increased the intensity of their performance to the point where it seed like they were throwing their instrunts. Especially the skilled drumr wielded his arms as if possessed, almost tearing the drum apart.
Ivonne and Minova’s voices grew louder with each repetition of the chorus.
In response, the dancing of the people beca even more vigorous.
It was a worry that the building might collapse under the weight of their stomping feet and voices.
Just as the performance reached its climax, amidst this deafening noise, Anais approached.
At first, her words were barely audible, and I had to ask several tis.
In the end, I had to press my face against hers.
Until our breaths touched each other’s faces.
Her face turned bright red.
"Excuse … Ringmaster?"
"Yes?"
She smiled cautiously at and spoke.
"May I ask you one question?"
"Of course."
"Secrets are! (Secrets are!)"
"A woman’s! (A woman’s!)"
"Greatest charm! (Oh, charm!)"
She hesitated for a mont before continuing.
"If I had approached you with a kinder attitude…"
"Tears are! (Tears are!)"
"A woman’s! (A woman’s!)"
"Strongest weapon! (Oh, weapon!)"
"If I had shown a better side of myself…"
"Jewels are! (Jewels are!)"
"A woman’s! (A woman’s!)"
"Closest friend! (Oh, friend!)"
"Or if I had given you more…"
"Even if my heart is revealed!"
" The secret still remains buried!"
"Would anything have changed?"
I could tell.
This was her final question.
" Even if my smile fades away!"
"Tears beco even stronger!"
I answered honestly.
With a smile.
"No. I don’t think anything would have changed."
"Is that so…?"
" Even if my beauty withers away!"
" Jewels forever shine!"
With a thud, the performance ended.
It was followed by the thunderous cheers of the audience.
The lead vocalist, Ivonne, the chorus girls behind her, the dancers, and the entire orchestra ca forward to greet the audience.
It took a few minutes for the commotion to die down.
Not only the theatre staff but also the audience were drenched in sweat and panting.
Everyone had let loose and danced wildly, so they were understandably exhausted.
People drank the beverages placed on the tables voraciously.
"Uh, moving on… there will be introductions of each circus troupe leader and sponsors…"
Bouvalle was almost out of breath as he spoke.
He stood in front of the perforrs and danced.
His obese body perford an incredible dance that did not match his appearance.
It seed that the rumor about him being a professional dancer in his youth was not a lie.
With that body, swaying his hips and waist in various ways, he drew both admiration and laughter from the audience.
Looking around at the other balcony seats, everyone seed to be preparing to go down to the first floor.
"Let’s go down too," Anais suggested.
Her smile seed calm, though it was more like resignation.
Watching, I felt a sense of pity.
But I believed this was the best course of action.
The stage allowed to go only up to TT0’s ending.
I had 2 years and 4 months left within my ti limit.
I didn’t want my heart to be attached to a place I would have to leave anyway.
Because the mont of parting would be incredibly difficult and painful.
So, apart from trying to gain chanical affection from the mbers, I made an effort not to attach myself emotionally.
There had been a lapse in the boundaries with Yurakne and once with Ella.
That couldn’t happen again.
Should I console myself with mories of people I could never be with again and live a life of stagnation, or should I take a clear and thorough ans to change my life?
I decided calmly to pull myself together.
"Hehe, shall we go down as well?" I said.
As we stood up, there was a commotion outside the door.
The owner of the loud voice was Porsche Grape.
’If you get closer, I will use force!’
The sound of people cheering and the sound of sothing being hit followed.
Porsche Grape’s resistance didn’t last long.
Soon, with a loud bang, the door opened.
Porsche Grape ca towards us, breathing heavily.
"Please co behind , Master!"
The group that entered through the door was made up of police officers dressed in blue uniforms.
They surrounded us, firmly holding riot batons in their hands.
Among them, there were faces I recognized.
Sabo, the young sergeant from the Luz Law Enforcent Unit, one of the Nad characters who had appeared as a monster in TT2.
He looked at us with a triumphant smile.
"You are under arrest on charges of luring, exploiting, and murdering a minor," he said, pointing his finger at .
"The Ghost of the Cabaret."
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