The Arena (Part 1)

A distinguished strawberry-blond-haired man with a sizable stomach pushing his vest to its limits was slightly limping through the street, passing other enjoyers of a bustling nightlife while supporting himself on a metal cane with a particularly shaped handle with bits of metal sticking out of it here and there.

After walking a short distance, he encountered a small crowd gathered at the side of a large storehouse.

Originally, the storehouse was actually a dock, as only a century ago, that city was still on the edge of a large lake and a lively river. The thing was, in a blatant feat of ignorance, the ruler of that time did nothing to stop the natural occurrence of the riverbank shifting, which in time cut off the source of the lake, resulting in it drying up.

"A priest, huh? Got tired of giving the last rites to people and want to send a few to your god by yourself?"

Although the limping man walked past the crowd, he stopped behind the cover of the storehouse corner. He listened in on a rather curious conversation of a burly, dark-blond-haired, thuggish-looking man and a reddish-brown-haired young man who were just at the edge of the gathering.

"Something like that."

None of them dressed like a priest, but the reddish-brown-haired man did not deny the thuggish-looking one and merely shrugged his shoulders as he responded.

"Well, I'll be damned! Alright! How much do you need anyway?"

The thuggish man chuckled before patting the supposed priest's shoulder with great familiarity and asked.

"Way more than some donations from the people can cover. I beat up some wrong people and got ears-deep in shit. Thought that since I fought my way in, I can fight my way out."

"Fair! I'm here just for the money. In here, they pay up real nice for each debtor you beat to a pulp! The money the organizers get from all the bets must be crazy!"

The supposed priest shrugged again, and the thuggish-looking man laughed while grinning at some trembling commoners who didn't look excited to be there.

"Oh, and a word of advice from a veteran."

"...?"

The thuggish-looking man leaned in and said in a hushed voice, making the reddish-brown-haired one furrow his brows and lean in.

"Make it a spectacle. Knocking some twig-for-arms with one punch will get you booed, and they will cut your money. Make it exciting to watch, play with your opponent, torment them a little, and make them desperate. The crowd loves that, and that will make them bet big on you. When they bet big on you, you get more money~"

"!"

The thuggish man revealed, making the supposed priest tense up.

"Well, some of them are desperate as hell as it is, but you know. Nothing unusual, am I right~?"

The thuggish man chuckled and shook the reddish-brown-haired one a little while glancing with amusement at the pitiful bunch that wasn't there willingly.

"...~"

As if eavesdropping on that conversation confirmed something for the distinguished strawberry-blond-haired gentleman with a monocle, he chuckled silently and strolled around the building casually until moving to the other side, where a lavishly decorated entrance was guarded by a couple of bulky thugs.

As the limping man approached the thugs, he rummaged in his pocket almost obnoxiously so it would be seen from afar and finally took out one big silver coin.

"Lovely evening, isn't it? Is there a spot left for an eager viewer wishing for entertainment? Keep the change."

"Of course! By all means, please come on in, kind Sir~!"

As he handed the coin first and only then asked the question, the enriched thug was eager to answer.

"Sir, we don't ask about your status here, and regardless of it, no weapons or potential weapons are allowed!"

"Oh, come on, Dru, this gentleman will not go around thwacking people with his cane! You wouldn't, would you, Sir?"

The grumpy but still clearly trained in polite speech colleague of the eager guard pointed out at the peculiar cane the limping man was supporting himself on, but the paid guard came to his defense without any additional encouragement.

"Perish the thought! In my youth, a rowdy horse of my older brother broke my leg when we played behind the mansion. I have had trouble walking on it ever since, and can't move around properly without this thing. I hope for your understanding, gentlemen."

The strawberry-blond-haired man hurriedly assured in a soft but high-pitched voice, massaging his hip as if it was sore.

"Ugh… fine. But if you start swinging it around the moment you lose your bet… we will break your other leg. The owner has the permission and protection of the local Lord, and no one is allowed to make a commotion outside the arena."

The grumpy guard groaned and waved his hand to hasten the disguised man, but not before threatening him after a moment of thought.

"Duly noted. And here. I appreciate the help."

"My pleasure! If you will have trouble reaching the croupier, come find me and we will make it work, Sir!"

The limping man passed both guards as they opened the door to him, winking at and pushing a small silver coin into the hands of the helpful one, making him cheer out in elation.

Inside was loud and rowdy - a sizable indoor arena was surrounded by the stands with the seats almost completely full already, with croupiers and guards in strategic places so the bets could be placed efficiently and the relative order would be kept at the same time.

"Sir, which side do you want to be seated at? Here, some degree of disorder is allowed, and you will not get in trouble unless you start an actual fight. Here, aggressiveness of any sort is forbidden, and you will be escorted out if you lash out for any reason."

Another guard approached the limping man and asked while painting at two halves of the stands separated in the middle by an appropriately wide gap that did not allow someone from one side to reach out and grab someone from the other.

"I came here to have my blood pumping, young man! The vivacious side!"

"Suit yourself."

The limping man cheered out and limped excitedly past the amused guard, shaking his head at him.