“Oh my. Master is so bold.”
“Shut the hell up. Don’t make it sound like I'm some sort of exhibitionist. I'm changing here because I'm pressed for time as it is.”
The boy tries to be change as discreetly as he could. He slips on the trousers first under the hospital gown he has been wearing since last night. After making sure the trousers is fasten tightly, the boy takes off his hospital gown. He ignores the gasps from the females in the crowd or the eyes of Pigtails Girl which are hungrily feasting on the image of his upper torso.
What’s the big deal? It’s not like I have breasts or bat wings attached on my back, wonders the boy silently as he examines the hospital gown he’s holding in his hands, unaware that the people are actually surprised to see some well-toned muscles on the boy, unusual for someone his age.
If they're restless now, wait until they see my original adult body, smiles the boy bemusedly. Luckily for the boy, his body did not carry the "marks" he had received when he was a young adult. The boy knows he would have a hell of time trying to explain how he got those scars if they were carried over to his younger body.
The boy sighs as his fingers gently caresses the hospital gown, an act that doesn’t go unnoticed by the heavily-breathing Pigtails Girl or some of the females in the crowd. Sadly, it has been damaged beyond repair. There are many rips and cuts on the gown, more due to Mistress Ricon attacking him with a sword when he brought her breakfast than from the assault by Pigtails Girl’s followers this morning.
“Goodbye, friend.” murmurs the boy absentmindedly before handing the ruined clothing to his “maid”. “Dispose of this properly for me.”
“Yes, Master. I will.” nods a smiling Pigtails Girl as she takes the rags from his hand, even though she has absolutely no intention of doing so. Hurray, the maid celebrates happily inside. One more used item from her "Master” to add to her collection.
The boy sighs again as he slips on the long sleeved shirt Pigtails Girl has prepared for him. He knows what she’s planning to do to the poor hospital gown later on that night. The boy would have burn the poor clothing personally to save it from its cruel fate, but he really is pressed for time. The boy needs to make sure everything is in place before a furious Master Wes arrives in a few moments.
The boy smiles bitterly as the image of Master Wes’ face flashes across his mind. Seriously, the man should learn to lighten up and stop being such a stick in a mud, the boy thinks silently. Would it kill him to have fun once in a while or smile?
The time now is nearly 3.00 pm. The boy had barged into Master Haithur’s classroom at 2.30 pm and told the seventh year male students there to meet him at the courtyard in 30 minutes. He then met with Rolfe Primero at 2.40 pm and had asked the entity to come over for a “study session” in two hours.
Assuming the duel starts at 3.10 pm (with no further “interruption” from Master Wes), the boy will have around 90 minutes to deal with the 36 students who has answered his call for a duel.
Ninety minutes divided by thirty-six people equals to a hundred and fifty seconds or two and a half minutes per person, the boy calculates silently in his head. He then notices something, an out-of-placed item.
“What the hell is this?” the boy picks up the aforementioned item. “I didn’t ask for a riding whip.”
“Oh, that.” Pigtails Girl begins to answer his query. “When Master said he wanted a stick, I thought Master is finally interested in some sadomasochistic plays, which is why I brought the riding whi-AHHHHHNOOOOOO!” screams Pigtails Girl in agony as she helplessly watches the boy breaks the riding whip into several smaller pieces.
“Serves you right.” grumbles the boy as he dusted the flecks of the broken riding whip from his hand.
“But that was my own personal riding whip.” wails Pigtails Girl as if mourning the loss of a lover.
“Shut the hell up. You have two more riding whips in your collection.” retorts the boy as he picks up the stick Pigtails Girl has found for him.
“But that was my most favourite riding whip.” moans the maid who is on the verge of tears.
The boy seriously considers smacking the beautiful girl’s head with the stick he has in his hand but chooses not to. Knowing Pigtails Girl, her moans of sadness will turn to moans of pleasure. He decides to ignores Pigtails Girl for now and focuses instead on the stick she had picked up for him earlier.
He knows she had spent a good deal of time searching for the stick in the forest behind their school. Contrary to the boy’s vague order to find him a stick that’s “neither too long nor short, neither too thick nor thin,” Pigtails Girl has really done a good job finding the ideal stick required for the next step in the boy’s plan. He would have complimented on a task well done, but the boy undoubtedly knows that praising her will only lead her to ask for a reward, and you can be damn sure that any reward Pigtails Girl wants won’t be a normal one.
The boy chooses not to put on the shoes Pigtails Girl brought for him, even though he didn't ask for them. He feels much better moving around barefooted. It’s comforting to feel how the wet earth and mud in the courtyard squishes between his toes. Once you've fallen through the Time Abyss for as long as the boy did, you would learn to appreciate the ground underneath your feet too.
In fact, the boy would also feel much better moving in the hospital gown, but he knows the ragged clothing will never last against his upcoming fight with Rolfe Primero. If he had continued wearing the hospital gown, he would likely end up fighting naked against the entity, a sight that would make the females in the crowd pass out from shock and induce Pigtails Girl to have a severe nosebleed.
“♪ All right then. The clock strikes three. Better greet the preys before they flee ♫.” mumbles the boy in a sing-song voice. He walks to the middle of the courtyard, all eyes of the growing crowd are trained on him. The boy turns and faces towards a large group of students that compromises of fourth to seventh year students. No prizes for correctly guessing the reason why they are gathered here.
“Twenty students present.” murmurs the boy. About sixteen people are missing, less than the thirty-six challengers the boy claims he’ll be fighting when he was speaking with the entity known as Rolfe Primero earlier. The boy also notices most of the male seventh year students from 7C are nowhere in sight.
“Damn that Rotten Girl! She scared them off!” the boy curses under his breath. Never mind, the boy thinks. They’re still lurking around here, and the number of challengers will climb up to thirty-six in a short moment.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages. Get ready… for 'The Greatest Show on Ea-“
Before the boy could finish his introduction speech, he is thrown several feet into the air… launched by an almighty side-kick from behind… courtesy of a certain furious deputy headmaster.
“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!” bellows an angry Master Wes.
The boy falls with a sickening thud at an awkward angle several yards away. Before Master Wes could follow up with a second attack, Headmaster Joss comes running from the edge of the courtyard to restrain his fuming deputy.
The boy staggers as he tries to stand. Headmaster Joss meanwhile is doing his best to calm down his old friend who is still seeing red and is very much determined to charge at the boy like an enraged bull.
Several loud and horrified reactions reverberate from the crowd that forces the two men to turn towards the source that had caused it: the boy… or more accurately… his right arm which appears to dangle uselessly from his right shoulder.
“Oh dear…” mutters the boy as he pokes using the fingers from his left hand the awkwardly swinging right arm hidden under a long sleeved-shirt.