87 BROTHER 'BIG BELLY'

In the voting hall of the twelfth deck, there was a lively ambiance, at least on the face of the ongoing election.

Thousands of people had given their votes and were waiting for the lottery to start, but they were doubtful if the said event would take place or not. Tensions were slowly but surely climbing over their shoulders.

"Hey, where's that toothless boy you've spoken of? Why isn't he here?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's still on the way."

"Hmph, if he doesn't come here, I'll make you suffer for dragging me here!"

Hundreds of groups kept chattering among themselves while some people handed the cats they had caught to Sean's pupils.

Sean, who was on the stage and observing the voting process with his own eyes, asked his disciple, "What's the number?" A hint of unrest flowed through his voice.

"Just crossed nine thousand, Master," the senior pupil replied with a tone filled with awe.

"Nine thousand?" Sean wouldn't have believed if he wasn't overseeing things himself. He placed his hands behind his back and feigned composure. "Not bad." A moment later, when no more eyes were watching him, his brows furrowed. (I'm not surprised that thousands came lusting after tuna, but there are many more in this hall than the attendees to the chamber of chefs.) He glanced in the direction of the currently-busy water counter where half-liter water bottles were being provided. (I guess cost-free drinking water also helped the cause.)

As per the rules, half-liter water or some sort of liquid drink must be arranged for all the voters during an election, so Sean was weighing in all the mandatory options that might have pulled people into visiting the voting hall.

"Even if votes totaled to ten thousand, the chances of people backing a rule that brings them five percent less profit are not high, but you never know," Sean mused to himself. "In case the new rule gets passed, a lot more people might move to a different deck. Even though the administration may earn more profits with this new rule, it wouldn't amount to much when the overall number of bettors has lowered. It seems like this rule would have been effective if it applied to the whole sector, but for that to even be considered, you need at least a hundred thousand votes in which case I could have appealed to the captain, but I guess that's just me being too greedy. Getting such a large number of votes is almost impossible when the rule puts some sections of people at a clear disadvantage."

At that moment, Hundred came into the hall, wearing a top hat, and many eyes recognized him right away.

"Hey, it's you!"

"Look at his belly. It's so big—like the members of Belly Batch. Did he really get all of it in one sitting?"

"I think it looks somewhat bigger than when I saw him hours ago. I'm not sure, though."

"But why is he alone? Where's that boy?"

"Don't tell us that he cheated!"

Everyone converged upon him and cast an avalanche of questions.

"Easy, easy, guys," Hundred raised his palms as if telling them to calm down. "I've come here in his stead."

"What good are you to us without the reward?"

"Yeah, are you taking us for fools?"

Hundred hurriedly took his hat off as men took a step closer with hostile looks, but inside the hat was the nine kilos of tuna meat. Everyone who lay their eyes on that promptly stopped in their tracks. The rest followed like sheep.

"He has the fish meat!"

"He was hiding it in his hat? How calculated."

"Hmph, so he wasn't lying after all."

The anger in men's faces vanished almost instantly, and hope replaced it soon thereafter. "We knew Brother Big Belly is a man of his word the first time we saw him." Some even rubbed their bellies and sweetly smiled at Hundred as if subtly substantiating the saying, 'Teeth do not see poverty.'

Hundred could see through their humbug, but he understood where they were coming from by putting himself in their shoes. "But I'm afraid," Hundred said, trying to keep the growing nervousness at bay, "there are only nine kilos in this."

"Huh? What?" everyone was puzzled and aggravated at the same time. "What the hell do you mean by nine kilos? Wasn't there supposed to be ten?"

"Y-Yeah, but," Hundred scratched his chin and awkwardly beamed, "I could only bring nine kilos. Better little than too little, right?"

Though displeasure developed and dwelled in people's eyes, they could only bite their tongues and grind their teeth.

Hundred kept the professional smile alive on his visage. (Most people seem to have already voted, so this news shouldn't affect the result much.)

"Some land-rat must have snatched a kilo of it somehow. How unlucky!" Sean intervened, getting everybody's attention. "At least there are nine kilos left, right, folks?" he looked at everyone.

Though they were disappointed, they could only look away in silence.

"Whew…" (As expected of a commander.) Hundred gave a thankful smile to Sean before speaking out, "I'm sorry for what happened, and as a compensation for that one kilo of meat, there's something else I can offer." His words made many heads swivel toward him, and he pulled out something from his pocket. It was a tiny crystal at the size of a rice grain.

"What the heck is that?"

"How can it possibly be worth the same as a kilo of meat!"

"Are you taking us for fools?"

Many men snorted and started to rant and ridicule.

"It's only a fragment of the whole thing," Hundred said, lifting the grain-like object as it stood between his thumb and forefinger, "but since it didn't disintegrate, it may really be a Beast Bit."

Everybody's mouth hit a break, and their eyes focused on the tiny, brown crystal. "What?"

"Is it... really..."

"T-That's a beast bit?"

"C-Can you let us get a closer look at it once?"

Hundred immediately closed his fist, hiding the tiny crystal from view.

"You, what are you doing!" many men roared in fury and frustration.

Hundred patiently waited until the vocal tide waved about and slowly died down. He then smiled and said, "If we win this voting, I will put this in the lottery, too."

"What?" Many men looked at each other's faces, and some regret could be seen in their expressions.

Sean stepped forward straight away. "I'm afraid I can't allow that. You can do anything to bring people for the voting, but no incentives should be given that affects their freedom to vote!"

"S-Sorry, I take it back," Hundred quickly apologized by tilting his head down, but then he smiled while studiously keeping his face hidden. (Of course, I know that, but thanks to that bluff, I could tell that quite many people probably voted against bringing this new rule. Even though their empty stomachs may have brought them here, they're not so foolish to vote in our favor, huh. It looks like this voting's result may go in any direction.) He lifted his head and cleared his throat. "I guess I will just include this in the lottery whether the new rule gets passed or not."

"Yeah!" Everyone now excitedly roared and cheered.

"Brother 'Big Belly' sure likes to keep his word like he keeps the size of his stomach," one of Sean's disciples, the blonde youth who previously fought Sariyu, said aloud. Clearly, he also had participated in the election.

"Hahaha." Laughter sprang to life in the hall.

"If that really is a beast bit as he says, it may really sell for a reasonable price regardless of its level."

"Yeah. Compared to this, a kilo of ordinary tuna meat is nothing."

"Haha, true. It's like comparing a crow's feather to that of a peacock!"

"If I can get this, I'll wear it as my good luck charm!"

The chatter in the hall soon went out of control.

Hundred, meanwhile, placed his hand on his belly, looking a bit troubled by its appearance and effects. (I've never eaten so much bread in one day. I don't even want to sniff it for another decade!)

It was Lirzod's idea that Hundred should eat more and appear like a woman with a child. And Lirzod forced him to eat sixteen loaves of bread. Right now, if there was any food item that Hundred hated the most, it was definitely bread. He could feel its smell flooding through his mouth and nose clearly even now, and it irritated him more than anything.

"Once the voting is over, I should vomit all this out," Hundred muttered under his breath, for he could already feel some pain in the stomach, especially when he stood still. The longer he let all that food stay inside, the more he'd be suffering later, or so he thought.

At the same time, elsewhere on the same deck.

Lirzod was inside the drill hall. He gave almost a quarter kilo of tuna to Beren through the gap between the bars. The trainees in the background shamelessly drooled from smelling raw fish meat.

"W-Why are you giving this to me, uncle?" Beren was pleasantly surprised, but he wasn't sure if he could take such a thing or not at the moment. "I won't be leaving this cell anytime soon. You probably need it more."

"No, keep it," Lirzod said.

"No. I don't want it," Beren shook his head.

"No. I don't want it," Lirzod shook his head.

"You keep it," Beren put forward the small meat packet.

"You keep it," Lirzod stepped back and put his hands behind his back.

A bead of sweat formed on Beren's forehead, and he helplessly smiled. (Why does it feel like I'm talking to myself?)

Lirzod then looked at the trainees, "You guys, help him roast those meatballs, got it?"

"Got it. Got it." They all nodded repeatedly and mechanically.

Seeing them drool, Lirzod narrowed his eyes. "I'll come back again. If I hear that you stole it from him, then I'll report it to your commander."

"Eek!" all the hopes of the guards shattered, and they now had dull complexion.

"How can I repay your kindness, uncle?" Beren asked, his voice sounding somewhat emotional.

Lirzod sighed and said, "Just anything better than uncle will do."

Beren's eyes took in more light, and he straightened his spine, "O-Okay, brother."

"Brother sounds way better." Lirzod grinned like a Cheshire cat, even though it exposed the cavity in his mouth.

"I…" Beren tightly held the wooden bar with his hand, but his eyes slowly shifted down toward the floor. "Our teacher at the child booth always told us to be happy, but I still don't know how true happiness really feels. I wanted to be happy and share it with my mother, but she's no longer…" Tears welled up as he revealed his eyes. "I don't know where she is right now, but… wherever she is, do you think she will be happy if I'm happy?"

Lirzod sucked in a faint breath through the mouth. "I don't know what lies after death. Maybe your mother is watching you right now, or maybe she isn't. I don't know." His speech was neither rushing nor dawdling. "However, what I can tell you is that you shouldn't pursue happiness because it's a troublesome thing to go after."

"We shouldn't go after happiness?" Beren awkwardly laughed. "You must be joking."

"I'm not," Lirzod straightforwardly replied. "In our world, happiness is somewhat like a rainbow, which generally comes after heavy rainfall to brighten up all the dullened souls beneath the clouds for a little while. A rainbow that pops up after a drizzle isn't as much appreciated as the one that follows a downpour. In my opinion, happiness is the same. You appreciate it more when it walks behind woe. Since our world isn't solely blessed with good people, one can't be happy all the time, unless they also enjoy the sadness in life. But by our very nature, we can at best bear the miseries in our lives but can't take pleasure in them, so it's practically impossible to be happy forever as long as sorrow draws breath and hearts continue to ache. Maybe that's why people think greatly about heaven because of the popular belief that suffering doesn't dwell there." Lirzod paused for a moment and blinked twice. After realizing that Beren couldn't follow his words fully, he cleared his throat, "Ahem, maybe your mother is already up there in heaven. Maybe she's already happy that she'd been relieved of her physical suffering."

"You really think so?" Beren's voice sounded hopeful. "You think she's happy?"

"Yes, of course. Whether she can see you now or not, she'll be happier if you live on your legs. So don't bother about finding happiness, but try to stay true to your heart and try to give your everything in whatever you do, and then you'll have no regrets. This way, it's happiness that seeks you, not the opposite." Lirzod paused for a bit, and he subconsciously touched the scar on his face. "Sometimes, a simple story is all it takes to turn your world upside down. So don't teach your tongue how to tell tall tales." He put his hand on Beren���s shoulder and looked in his eyes. "If Nick is your father, then accept it for what it is and move forward. Families are built when people help not hurt each other. Not all get to build a family with those we want to. If you can't walk with your father, then walk alone. If you can't walk alone, then know that it's okay to look for shoulders you can lean on. Just try to be patient and open to good things, so you can see all the wonderful possibilities and paths that life presents. I know it's easier said than done, but if everything is easy, life would be boring, don't you think?"

Beren couldn't speak, and his expression turned complex. Lima's image flashed in his mind.

"Anyway, I have to go," Lirzod started walking back while facing Beren. "You just take good care of yourself, got it?"

Beren nodded and said in a soft voice, "Thank you, Brother."

Lirzod waved goodbye to Beren and the trainees and then walked away.

Beren waved his hand back in return.

Moments later, three senior trainees brought a familiar face to the cells.

"Hey… isn't that…"

"Yeah, that's the clown that was in the cell only hours ago."

"What did he do this time?"

The three trainees brought the criminal and put him in the same cell as Beren.

"Hey, what did he do this time?" the other trainees quickly asked.

"Ah, this bastard stole Blindbird from the chamber of chefs," a senior trainee slapped on the back of the prisoner's head. "All the six gourmet saints were found severely wounded—near death, in fact. He might also be the one responsible for their injuries."

"What?" the other trainees were stunned. "The six gourmet saints were beaten? That's gotta be a joke."

"Joke or not, that's the truth."

"I-Is at least the bird fine?"

"No, it's missing. We interrogated him in the chamber itself, but he stayed silent for the most part but then kept on sniggering throughout."

"Sniggering? What a freak." They looked at the prisoner who stayed pretty silent for the moment.

"Whatever he might have done with the bird, we won't know until we find a clue. This fellow probably deserves to be put in Hell Block, so guard the cell safely. We'll go and report this to the master."

"Yeah, sure. Don't worry. We'll cuff him up tightly."

After the three trainees took off, only two other trainees remained to guard the cells. They bound the criminal with wooden bindings at both arms and feet and later locked the cell from the outside.

A few minutes later.

Beren glanced at the criminal, who was beaten pretty badly in the face.

When Beren made eye contact, the criminal also glanced back at him and faintly smiled.

Beren looked away immediately and acted like nothing happened.

"I'm Booboo," the criminal said in a soft tone. "People call me 'Clown Ass' Booboo. By the way, it's not because my ass smells but because I ride an ass."

"I didn't ask you," Beren said tentatively. "Mind your business, uncle."

"But I'm getting bored here from all the silence, and it's a pleasure to be speaking to a chick inside a cell," Booboo's tone turned a bit passionate. "It's not often that encounters like this happen."

Beren kept looking elsewhere and acted like he wasn't even listening to the conversation.

"Hey," after checking that the trainees were involved in a serious discussion outside, Booboo resumed to speak in a low voice, "you want to know what happened to that bird?"

Beren didn't speak, but his eyes evidenced intrigue.

"It's with me right now. Do you want to see it?"

"Not interested," Beren didn't even look at him.

"It's a rare bird, for pleasure's sake, chick. Even if you roam the largest continent, you can count these birds on your fingers. Luckily, they got one on this vessel. Trust me. You will love its beauty. Want to take a look now?"

"Nope," Beren still didn't cast a glance at him.

Booboo waited a few seconds before speaking, "You seem to be going through a lot. I can feel it in your 'ora'... both the spite and the shame."

An influx of emotions swelled Beren's chest, and his gaze now slightly shifted toward this adult with a painted face.

Booboo's voice was soft and smooth on the ears like the hissing of a snake, "I don't know what troubles you've had and still are having, but I do know that there should be no place for shame beside spite or contrariwise. They never go well together for a good reason." He slightly enlarged his eyes and got the full attention of Beren. "Considering your age, holding a grudge in itself isn't a good thing, and the addition of shame makes things even worse for you in the long run. If I were you, I'd eliminate the source of my shame as soon as possible even if it leads me to my caretakers, and if that takes care of spite, too, that's a bonus. You can then finally be 'happy' again. Won't you agree?"

Beren hesitantly nodded. "I-I just wanted to be happy and free with my mother, but she passed away, and now I'm alone, neither happy nor free." He sounded sad.

Booboo's words now brought gentle wind onto Beren's face. "Delight loves to dance with good people, but sometimes, Despair dresses up like Delight and comes to you," he said. "And if you let it prance about for too long, you'll either die or become Despair yourself."

"I-I don't get what you are saying, uncle," the glow in Beren's face was crumpling and ceasing bit by bit.

"I'm just saying that you being here is a bad thing," Booboo lowered his voice. "The more you stay here, the more your heart will rot. If you ask me, you should be out there, taking care of your problems once and for all."

Beren's eyes slightly enlarged.

"If you wish to get out and look for the source of your distress, then I can help you," Booboo's voice turned smoother, "but it all depends on you. What do you say?"

Beren slowly blinked once without himself knowing.

"Then, I'll take the pleasure of getting you out of here and giving you a little taste of true freedom." Booboo suddenly began to laugh aloud, grabbing the attention of both the trainees. "Stop doing that. I will give up on giving freedom, so stop doing that. Please stop tickling me!"

"What the hell?" the trainees were alarmed and also puzzled. "Did he suddenly go mad?"

"What's tickling him?"

"Who gives a shit?" the trainee said and barked, "Hey, stop!"

However, Booboo didn't stop laughing. Even after the trainees warned twice, nothing changed. Booboo didn't even try to put an end to his laughter. He was in his own world.

"The heck? He's giving me the creeps."

"Let's just punch him to sleep!"

"Yeah." Both the guards unlocked the cell and entered. "Whose freedom have you said you're gonna bring?" one of them punched him in the face. It was strong enough to twist the criminal's neck.

Booboo's laughter stopped, but then he started to snigger in a low tone. "Freedom to a chick. And if you let me, then to you, to your friend, and to all, too."

"What nonsense!" they continued to punch him with all their strength for about a minute, and then they stopped to take a breath. "That should've hurt good."

"Hic, you guys joined with the ants to tickle me, too?" Booboo innocently asked. "But why did you stop? Please go on. The ants are doing a better job. Don't let them beat you guys."

The trainees gritted their teeth as his words tested their temper.

"Just shut up, you creep!" they put their fists to work again, and they eventually stopped after their hands began to hurt. "What is this rapscallion made of?"

"Pfft," Booboo couldn't withstand their stupidity and half-baked attitude. "You can't free yourselves from nuisance even with force. How worthless your lives are! Much more wasted than these ants that never stop tickling me," Booboo, with his face down, continued to snigger, angering the two guards further. Even though their hands were hurting, they mercilessly unleashed a torrent of fists on his face, and he began to bleed from the nose and lips, but a corner of his mouth lifted up, exposing some of his unclean teeth to Beren.

"Are the ants in your dress still tickling you?" one of the guards sarcastically asked as he cracked his knuckles.

"Yes," Booboo licked his own blood and sniggered once more in a strange manner as the taste of his own blood made him drunk. "Keep your eyes open, chick," he said because Beren wasn't looking in his direction anymore. "These two twerps can't stop me or you from getting out, not with their frail fists."

"Who are you calling twerps!" one of the trainees smashed his elbow on top of Booboo's skull, causing his chin to crash to the floor. "We've had enough with your bullshit. You or that varmint ain't going anywhere. He will still get good food for as long as he's here, but as for you…" they grinned evilly. "When our friends get back, there'll be war among us to decide who gets the privilege to beat your ass up and give you full meals with our fists for what you did to the bird and the cats. That's the price you pay for stealing and killing on this ship."

Booboo tilted his head to the side, so it rested on the floor. His eyes were now set on the trainees. "Let's say I caused the death of the cats, but why are you pussies making so big of a deal about it?" His words boiled their blood. "Cats kill creatures all the time. They'll kill us, too, if they can, and they'll virtually do anything to get their itches scratched. It's all a matter of who's dominant and better. The strong eat the weak and get stronger. In every battle, death only comes to the weak. That's how the world works. Crying, let alone caring for them, will only make us look weak. The lives of those cats or the bird or the fish are all equally worthless and aren't any more noteworthy than the ants we stomp on every day. We—"

"Stop acting wise," a guard kneed in his face, stopping Booboo's speech in the middle. "It doesn't fit a clown."

"What are you saying?" Booboo licked the blood flowing down his nose. "Cleverness always fits a clown."

"You think you are clever, huh," a trainee put his foot on Booboo's head. "Then how did you end up here? For you to treat this prison as a home, your momma didn't give birth to you in a cell, or did she?"

"Who knows?" Booboo's voice wasn't full because his head was being pressed down against the floor. "Maybe she did end up in prison for kicking your mamma's ugly ass, you donkey-ass skunk."

"You son a wench!" the guard angrily kicked Booboo's face a dozen times before stopping from exhaustion. "I'm not done yet." He was huffing and puffing. "We're not done yet. We both will teach you some manners and turn you into a pacifist overnight!" he then looked at the other trainee, who nodded and raised his leg and went for a kick in Booboo's face but ended up hitting nothing. The next moment, Booboo disappeared from their sight. "What—" they were purely taken by surprise.

"Pacifists are pieces of pussies who know nothing about freedom," Booboo was standing right behind those two, and his hands comfortably broke out of the binding and tightly grabbed their necks from behind, not giving them any freedom to move much less counter-attack. Their sudden fearful expressions gave away their story. They were like cute little deer caught in the clutches of a colossal tiger. Their whole being was seized by terror, and they shook in their shoes. "I truly enjoyed your company, hic, but as they say, all good things must come to an end." The next second, he banged both their heads into the wooden bars, cracking both the wood and their foreheads. Both the guards collapsed in a heap, red liquids seeping out through the cracks in their heads. "You can't win a war through nonviolence but only through blood and sacrifices." He turned to face Beren, whose countenance was taken over by disbelief. "You can't calm the fire in your stomach with food alone. The more you feed the wrong thing, the more it burns and etches deep in your soul."

"Why did you hurt them!" Beren looked thoroughly shocked, and all the hairs on his hand stood on their ends. His back was firmly pushing the rods of the cell as if he wanted to escape from the person standing before him.

"They were asking for it," Booboo's voice was indifferent as though he had just swatted a couple of flies. "Besides, how else can we get out?"

Beren got surprised upon hearing the last sentence. He stayed silent for a moment, still looking confused. "I-Is it okay if I leave the cell now?" he hesitantly asked. "Won't my mother be unhappy with me? Won't God be unhappy with me?"

"Unhappy? What for? You're perfect the way you are. Whatever you did to come here is fully justifiable, so don't give a damn if anyone says otherwise!" Booboo passionately said and took a step closer. "Nobody in the world knows your pain better than you do, not even the sky-daddy," he pointed his finger upward for a moment. "Who decides what's right and what's wrong for you? He leaned forward and put his hand on Beren's shoulder, "It's yourself. Good or bad, it depends on how you view it. Every chick that dreams of ruling its own little world, let alone the whole world has to become a warrior and a maverick at some point. You don't need others' help for it. You are enough for everything you want to achieve." He pulled Beren up by the arm and gently pushed him toward the exit of the cell. "Go and wildly deal with all the things that are stopping you from being happy and free."

By the time Beren stopped, he looked befuddled, but one of his feet had already stepped out of the cell.