Chapter 136 The Beginning
Kavi looked at the introduction board with doubt and uneasiness. Half a minute later, his ears turned red and he faltered to explain to the people around him:
"I didn't know that just now. Actually, I don't need this kind of thing... No! That's not what I meant! What I meant was that I don't have any intention of understanding that aspect at all. I just turned eighteen!"
"Don't worry, I understand you," the middle-aged man whose sleeve was pulled by Kavi gave Kavi a soothing look, "We are all the same, no one will laugh at you."
what? !
Kavi was stunned.
He shook his head to get rid of all the noisy voices, and then said to Haroldt: "Junior, I have something to do and I have to go back first. I will come to see you after today's activities are over!"
After saying that, he pushed through the crowd and left in a hurry.
"Your senior is not what I imagined..." Tinari restored the sign that had been pushed out and said to Harold with a smile, "I thought that even if he accidentally put himself in this predicament, he would be able to quickly come up with a coping strategy."
Harold said helplessly: "Well, there are always some unexpected situations. Even I didn't react just now--"
Senior Kawi seems to be withdrawn for a while. We will try to comfort him after the activity is over. Harold looked at Kawi's departing back and thought it would be better to let him calm down first.
Inside the Zubair Theater, a dozen former mercenaries dressed in gorgeous clothes were scattered around the theater. Although their postures were different, they all had honey-colored skin and held thick stacks of scripts in their hands.
Everyone looked very serious. Some even stared at the paper with their lips slightly parted and muttered. Their high concentration made them look like scholars trying to touch the door of knowledge.
But the clothes they were wearing were clearly the styles that were popular in the desert a hundred years ago. They were kings, princes or guards, but these people of seemingly different identities were doing the same thing at the moment.
An old man was wiping the prop table. After making the stage props, costume prop master Rickard cleaned up the debris on the table and wiped it with a rag, so the prop table was not dirty.
But the old man could not find anything else to do. He had already swept the floor twice, cleaned the carpet on the stage and hung it on the backstage railing to dry, and wiped the stage surface with a rag until it was shiny. He had no choice but to wipe the prop table and the stair railings.
An old man in plain clothes walked by several times carrying a bucket. The mercenaries who were struggling with their lines did not even bother to look at him. In the past few days, they were not used to handing over the cleaning work to others.
Before leaving the theater, they would mop the already clean floor again or wipe the props placed backstage, as if only in this way they were worthy of staying in the theater.
The attitude of the desert mercenaries towards their employers is mostly determined by the commission, and a little bit by the attitude of the employers towards them.
When they encounter unreasonable employers or employers who are unwilling to pay the full commission, they often take some measures to make those people pay the price, even if it means that they may be visited by the disciplinary officer or the Thirty-Man Group.
But Zubair Theatre is different. When they stand here, they don't have to work hard, nor do they have to consider whether the next employer is willing to provide three meals a day - Zubair Theatre provides meals for all employees equally.
The food is not very good, there are no delicacies from land and sea, most of the time there are only three vegetarian dishes and one meat dish, but it is clean and warm. The chef of the theater, under the instruction of the manager Sheikh Zubair, cooks different meals every day.
Today it's rice with grilled fish, tomatoes and potatoes, and tomorrow it might be flatbreads, stewed meat or something like that. Working here, guessing what the next meal will be has become a fun thing.
So they could understand the old man's feelings. The work here was too comfortable, and the mercenaries had nowhere to vent their strong physical strength. They were obviously doing easier work than usual, but they were paid higher salaries, and they felt that they were treated equally in the rainforest area.
This actually made them feel a little ashamed, and they felt that they had taken great advantage. When they compared their current jobs with their previous jobs, they felt that the theater manager had suffered a great loss.
Thinking of this, they wished they could work harder and be more focused, as if they would be betraying their conscience if they did not spend the extra energy to do something for the theater and its manager.
After the discomfort of the first two days wore off, they continued to recite their lines without looking up when the old man walked past them. Only occasionally, when the old man walked up to them, they would move a few steps to make way for him to wipe the railing or wall behind them.
"Today is the day when the Ministry of Education holds a carnival. You don't have to work in the afternoon. Let's go to the carnival together."
Zubair walked out from the backstage with a newly received script in his hand. Mr. "Shakespeare" did not disappoint him. The script written by Mr. Shakespeare was fast-paced and full of lyrical colors, which made him, the theater manager who also served as a playwright for many years, unable to stop reading.
He couldn't help but sigh that even if he put aside his ideals and courage, Mr. Shakespeare himself was a genius.
When the theater manager spoke, the men and women from the desert put down their scripts one after another - they always had respect for theater managers who were willing to accept them.
But this does not affect their rejection of such activities.
"Mr. Zubair, I don't think there's anything interesting to see at the fun fair."
"Yes, if you want to read the works of scholars from the Faculty of Letters, you might as well memorize a few lines."
"There are a lot of new and interesting things at the amusement fair. I went there last year, so can I not go this year?"
...
"I have my considerations, not just to let you relax," Zubair said.
After hearing what the theater manager said, the former mercenaries who had just been racking their brains to think of reasons to refuse fell silent and waited for Zubair's explanation.
"During the carnival, the flow of people in that area will be much greater than usual. This is a great opportunity for you to show your performance costumes to the residents of Xumi City. It will also allow you to get used to the feeling of being watched by hundreds of eyes in advance."
This will also be your first attempt to enter the public eye in a different capacity, Zubair added in his mind.
In order to prevent these desert people from being too nervous, he did not organize a large-scale mobilization activity to promote some profound concepts. He knew that doing so might give these desert people excessive courage in the first hour and make their blood boil.
But this forced courage will quickly dissipate over time. Once they find that things are not developing as expected, they will only become more panicked. And as long as one person in the team backs down, it will quickly trigger a chain reaction.
Even so, the former mercenaries couldn't help swallowing their saliva at the thought of going out in the clothes they were wearing now. Many of them had their hearts beating violently, and they were as nervous as if they were facing a head-on confrontation with a group of treasure robbers who were plundering a caravan.
If I wear it out, will I get this dress dirty or damaged?
The accessories on the clothes seem to fall off easily...I must cover them tightly!
...
"Also, at this amusement park, scholars from Ami Rido College came up with a plan to improve the sugar industry. I heard that their ultimate goal is to reduce the price of sugar to one-tenth of the current price."
One tenth?!
Isn't that one thousand molas per pound?
After hearing the news, the former mercenaries showed expressions of either surprise or suspicion. They finally stopped thinking about how to preserve their performance costumes in the crowd and became eager to verify the authenticity of the news.