A PROEM TO SAVAGERY

The twelfth deck was usually full of characters who have their own sense of the surroundings, so it was rare for any notion to be accepted by most, but there would always come to be notions, a few, that would become popular. Here was one such belief: Facing Bruiser, willingly or not, is an itinerary that would imperil not only the body but also the soul.

Another general belief was that beating a retreat in the presence of Bruiser was nothing to be ashamed of.

Currently, inside the test hall of the twelfth deck, most men were doing just that. And as if supporting their actions, one of the painted sentences on the walls of the test hall phrased: screw the shame when facing a formidable name.

Granting a name to a challenging cat was a well-known tradition on the twelfth deck. Any feline that scored five straight wins in a contiguous span of twenty-four hours was qualified to receive a name. A particular cat, though, earned twice as many triumphs on one of the bygone days and eventually got the name—Bruiser.

That name alone was enough to make men forget about their pride and such senses, or else they knew they would be bruised positively, if not to an intense degree.

With the peremptory presence of such a cat, currently, the atmosphere in the hall simply turned into something only rarely seen—anything goes.

Almost everyone showed their backs to the cat in the ring, but still, some of the running-away men turned their heads back, and their eyes witnessed Bruiser making a leap—from the security of the sod to the uncertainty that was the boy with a scar on his face.

Lirzod, at the moment, was thinking about something. He had overheard some men discuss that exercise was the best way to improve one's chances of triumphing over a cat. So he had wished to embrace that mantra for the first fifteen seconds and then proceed with his devised plan.

Nonetheless, Bruiser attacked him out of nowhere, and in a flash, the paw was already slashing at his neck from up close. Lirzod, though taken by surprise, managed to bend his neck to the side. The claws, however, scraped against the skin.

Lirzod's forehead creased. (I thought I dodged.) A tint of worry washed over, stiffening the fine hairs on the back of his neck.

Bruiser avoided the fall by clinging onto Lirzod's collar and swiftly climbed to the top of his head and then began his real act of aggression. He strove to rip out a bunch of hairs by teeth while his claws were busy in bringing out blood by clawing their way down to the bone.

Frenziedly, Lirzod powered his way back by grabbing Bruiser by his fur coat on the spine, tried to pull him away, but it proved more difficult than he had imagined. His hand slid across the cat's spine and squeezed the neck.

Bruiser let go of Lirzod's hairs and bit his forearm, causing him to let go of his hold and push away the cat at the same time. Bruiser landed gracefully on the ground and strutted around Lirzod in a circle, his tail not puffed out but still raised high.

Lirzod placed his hand behind his ear once, and then momentarily stared at his hand, which now had blood on it. His pulse beat in his ears and blocked all other sounds for a moment. He looked at Bruiser, who was walking as if he was the owner of the sod.

"Look at him strutting in an arrogant gait as if he can win it whenever he wants to," some audiences ground their teeth in both fright and frustration from the mannerisms of the much-hated feline.

"If I knew the one he had chosen was Lord Bruiser, I would have never placed a bet," one man cursed his luck, unable to control the hammering of his heart.

"When up against Lord Bruiser inside the ring, every contestant is but a chicken trying to fly in a blizzard. No use of flapping one's wings. No use of trying. The boy trapped himself." Though part of this man wanted to run, the other part didn't want him to flee just yet.

"Ah, my money has gone into a stonser's stomach," another man couldn't get rid of the bitter taste in the back of his mouth and was on the verge of crying.

Burton slowly shook his head. "I knew something like this would happen. He could have simply used the rattail, but guess what, he doesn't take one thing seriously," he glanced at Sariyu, "and I think you are allowing it to happen."

"What are you getting at?" Sariyu asked him back, her gaze turning sharp right away.

"I know my presence doesn't affect him much, but your presence allows him to be even more carefree," Burton said, thumbing the ear. "If this goes on, we can't even climb to the hundredth deck before the ship reaches the sect."

"Stop worrying over every little thing," Sariyu crossed her arms across her chest, "and cut him some slack."

"I have done that plenty of times already," Burton said, staring blankly at Lirzod, who was running toward Bruiser, "but this isn't a little thing as you say. He let the cat draw out his blood, and I'm sure that won't be the last of it."

"C'mon, cats are idiots."

"Cats are idiots, but so is he. Even if he somehow ends up winning and earns pocketfuls of coins, he'll frivolously fritter them away. Just wait and see, he'll probably throw a party, and all that wealth goes down the drain. Don't you think we can do much better without him? Perhaps, he'll do better without us, too."

"No one asked you to tag along," Sariyu splayed her hands out wide before crossing them again. "You were always like this—getting worked up over every little thing."

Burton stood in an unnatural stiffness, and though his mouth was opened, no word came out of it for a couple of seconds. "You sounded as if you both would do better without me around." He felt as if something has walked through him and left him numb to everything. "If that's what you truly believe," he took a step back while still looking at her, "then I guess I'll climb the decks by myself." He turned away and began to walk, "but... if you ever change your mind, though, you are welcome to join me any day."

Sariyu lowered her gaze and took a somewhat burdening breath as the distance between them grew by the second, "I still can't tell if he calculatedly complains so that he can walk off without guilt, or..." she bit her nail before looking at Lirzod who brought her out of her contemplation with his chase. "Why aren't you using the rattail, you nut-heart! You barebutt!" she muttered under her breath. "Use it and prove Purple Grass wrong."

"Stop, you sneaky little bastard," Lirzod kept chasing after the cat in circles, "if you don't stop, I swear I won't hesitate to shove these grasses up your nose."

Sariyu's shoulders slumped a bit. "Never mind."

The audiences, however, were fascinated by what Lirzod was doing.

"H-He's going after Lord Bruiser," one man took two steps backward, and disbelief sucked the very breath from his mouth, "I can't believe he's showing his teeth against that monster-cat."

"Lord Bruiser bruises everything that budges," another man felt the tension in his muscles. "He bothers all the cats, even the ones too fat to fight, and doesn't stop until blood is shed, but this boy is running after such a cat. Does he not fear the claws?"

"Lord Bruiser doesn't even fear cucumbers. How can he expect Lord Bruiser to fear a bunch of grasses that can tickle him at best?"

"Yeah, Lord Bruiser is no ordinary cat," one man had sweat pouring down his body. "He doesn't do pre-fight talking and goes straight for the head of his foe because he's got the soul of a tiger-cat."

Despite the audiences' views, Lirzod had his own plan. At the moment, though he was already struggling a bit to catch his breath, he had a complex smile on his face. "I've never thought I'd see myself going after a cat one day."

To this moment, no matter how swiftly he had changed his pace and direction to get closer to Bruiser, the distance between them didn't reduce much at all, so he leaped at the cat, howling out of his lungs as he thrust the hand holding grasses. "Let the fur fly!"

His move took the audience by surprise, for it was an adequate jump. "Get him!" they rooted for him with increased heart rates.

As their eyes witnessed, Lirzod's whole body banged onto the grassy ground, having failed to even touch a single hair on Bruiser, since the chase began, who had managed to bounce away and move out of Lirzod's reach quite comfortably. What flew into the air was not fur but dust, sweat, and a bit of blood.

Lirzod, eyes staring at the ceiling, didn't move an inch.

All the audiences couldn't move their mouths, for the worst they had feared seemed to have come sooner than ever. They didn't think that the test would end in half a minute; however, Lirzod, betraying their bad signs, got back to his feet at once and resumed his pursuit as if nothing had happened.

"Whew..." some breathed sighs of relief.

"I thought it was over."

"Yeah, me too."

"Haha, I've never given up like you lot."

"Stop lying."

Upon hearing the voices of the crowds, Sariyu, who had been standing in a slumped posture, thought back on what some of her stuffy friends had advised her about Lirzod right before the journey.

"Sariyu, don't journey with that Lirzod. I heard he gives long handshakes to girls."

"Yeah, I also heard he runs away from classes. My mom said people like that will also run away from responsibilities. Nothing good will ever happen when around such boys."

"Someone who skips classes as frequently as the sun, even if he's a young master, he isn't good enough to travel with you."

As her friends' words flashed back in her mind, Sariyu had a complex expression on her face. "Am I not where I wanna be? Am I giving too much value for our friendship?" she lifted her head and looked in Lirzod's direction. He was pursuing the cat as if it was now or never while also putting his mouth to use in many ways. Sariyu now thought back on the time when she had spoken to Primera about something.

"Primera, why does he always acts like he doesn't care what the future holds for his actions?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Primera replied. "He makes mistakes all the time, but I don't think he has any hidden agenda behind that; however, I do think he believes something amazing always awaits in his future if he just keeps moving ahead."

"Oh, why is that?"

"Because he is amazing."

"..."

"Just kidding," Primera rubbed the back of her head. "Jokes apart… You see, he sees victory in a different light. More than the victory, he cares about the steps that take him there. Some of those steps may go out of the tried-and-tested way, and he may suffer losses because of that, so maybe that's why he comes across as a bit of an oddball. More than that, I don't really know, Young Mistress. Young Master's mind may be easy to control, but it's hard to crack. I doubt you can get a proper answer even from him. Give him a few more years, and then he might do a good job of answering that question."

Upon remembering the talk with Primera, Sariyu's unfocused gaze now focused on Lirzod. Bruiser was running so fast on the grassy surface that his legs seemed to lack traction in contrast to Lirzod's advance in brazen steps. Even though the cat was covering the ground at a better speed and agility, Lirzod didn't stop running toward the cat while also meowing repeatedly. Even after kissing the sod multiple times, he got back up and continued the chase, albeit with amusing expressions. His actions made Sariyu heedlessly stand straight, her comfort only marginally better than before. Wherever the cat went, Lirzod followed it like a dog saying, 'I've got your scent.' Though Bruiser seemed better in many aspects, he couldn't shake Lirzod off his tail because of the perimeter restriction of the ring. As seconds passed, it appeared as if Lirzod would succeed in catching the cat by its tail; howbeit, the moment Lirzod got close enough for once, he went for the head instead and ended up failing to even touch the cat because it ducked all too quickly.

"Oh, not the head!" some audiences shouted almost instantly, "Don't go for the head. Go for the tail. Get the headband before it's too late."

"Too late?" one man could help but ask. "What do you mean by that?"

"That boy better fetch the headband before the cat twitches its tail. Lord Bruiser is known to go mad when he's pissed. Who knows what'll take him into that mode!"

"What? Is this not his maddened self?"

"You have no idea. Why do you think no one has ever managed to remove the headband from that tail? It's because none could form a strategy to get the headband off of him, even with the support from the crowd. Lord Bruiser is a tribulation that takes years of one's life to overcome. I know one should never write off anyone, but the test this time around doesn't feel much different either."

"What, then, he should get the headband quick!"

"Yeah, that's the only way to win this test."

"Go for the tail! Go for the tail!" Many began to chant synchronously.

Some audiences feared Bruiser going into a rage mode, and so they wished Lirzod to end things beforehand, but they still didn't have the heart to come closer to the cat ring, afraid of receiving a claw or two in their faces.

Lirzod, amidst the chants of the crowds, stopped in his tracks. Panting heavily, his hand clutched his right side under the ribs. "Shouldn't have drunk all the milk. Now, it hurts. I can't even bleed my lizard out here in the open," even after clutching the troubling spot tightly, the cutting pain wouldn't go. "How do I catch the cat like this—huh?"

As Lirzod looked ahead, the cat, having finished shedding its weight on the sod, now gradually came toward him, hopping on fours, giving the impression that it was coming for play of some sort, but then its tail puffed up all of a sudden, and so did all the fur on its body.

In a flash, a fiendish ball of ferocious, furry ferity hopped onto Lirzod's head and endeavored to claw its way through the hairs and then the scalp. Its movements were too quick, and also the pain its claws brought made Lirzod fall backward, again.

All the audiences were left stunned. Most of them had bet in Lirzod's favor, and so they couldn't bring out their usual sardonic expressions to mock the contestant for such a graceless fall that had made Lirzod look like a bumbling fool.

"He should get up quick, or he's doomed."

"Lord Bruiser dropped off extra weight for the fight. The boy's in serious trouble now."

"Get up, boy! Get up!"

"I didn't bet on him, so I'm all good no matter what happens. My cheese is safe," a plump-lipped man among the audiences said as Bruiser kept clawing at Lirzod, "but allow me to explain what's happening in the ring for those who have their eyes closed." Upon leaking out a sadistic smile, he continued, "The boy's head is like a roof for Lord Bruiser, who will now continue to dig into the boy's scalp, with each of his claws vying for purchase on the growingly glistening, bleeding, comical crown of head which is nothing more than another platform for the cat to prove his point that none can beat cats on rooftops, for they are the kings of roofs. All of his current actions are but a proem to the upcoming, unsparing savagery, which I can't wait to see—"

"You bastard! Whose side are you on?" some men rebuked at the plump-lipped man.

"The winning side," the plump-lipped brushed aside their views with his unkind laughter.

Though the audiences didn't want to accept his words, whatever he said was admittedly happening in the ring, so they could only swallow their pride to the bottom of their stomachs.

More and more droplets of blood mixed with the hair filled the air as Bruiser did things his way. All Lirzod did was cover his face with both hands.

Sariyu stood silently and watched the entire scene without blinking. (Fighting against humans and fighting against animals are not at all the same. The movements of the animals can be hard to analyze even for masters of martial arts. Their moves, to our eyes, can be hard to even clearly see much less comprehend. Most animals tend to have more stamina than us, so the quicker the fight ends, the better for us, and especially, a small feline like this makes it all the more uncomfortable to shape this fight into a proper one. So, why are you not slapping the cat into sleep? Just what is going through your mind?) She moderately clenched her fists. (You better not be finding it entertaining when your blood is in the air.)

In front of her eyes, the cat kept whapping Lirzod's head with its hind legs and attempted to tear through his scalp with his other set of claws.

As tepid blood and bedewed hairs rose into the air, all the glow escaped out of the audiences' faces, for most of them knew there was nothing more vicious than a waspish cat on the twelfth deck, especially when the cat at the discussion was the champion of them all, and that his show-off had just begun.

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[1] Gone into a stonser's stomach: Stonser is a creature made of stone. Its favorite food is copper, silver and gold coins. They are often mistaken with the mudskins. The saying is that nothing that enters a stonser's mouth is ever gonna come back.