54 COINS AND SEEDS

The assistant referee took a quick look at the entrance of the room before leaning toward Lirzod. "But if you can drop a silver in my pocket, I will let you choose an easy opponent."

Lirzod's ear jerked like that of a cat. "You can do that?"

"Not to everyone, but you seem like a good guy," the assistant referee said in a lively tone, one of his eyes closed, and his lips stretched out into a toothy smile. "It's only natural that I help you get through this deck's test."

"That's kind of you," Lirzod pursed his lips in thought for a moment, "but I think I can handle it myself."

"Are you sure?" the assistant referee's tone emphasized his words, "there are hundreds of people who have rejected my offer before, and then came looking for me as they never succeeded in passing the test. But I reject such people, and there are thousands like them on this deck. I don't want you to end up like one of them." He leaked out a knowing grin.

"That's nice of you, but this is just shady money you're trying to earn…" Lirzod stood straight and wetted his lips before making brief eye contact with the assistant referee, "you have reminded me of someone named Allda. If he were to be in your shoes, he probably would have taken seeds instead of coins, or maybe he would have taken coins first and would have used them to buy good seeds."

"Huh?" the assistant referee's forehead wrinkled, "What Allda? What seeds?"

"Any variety of seeds like those of almonds, cashews, and others whose trees have a longer lifespan will do," Lirzod said, stroking a forearm.

"What for?" the assistant referee let out an impatient huff.

"If you plant different types of seeds that grow in different times of the year and foster their growth, one day they will provide you with nuts throughout the year, which you can use for numerous purposes. This way you'd at least have put all of the shady money to better use, don't you think?"

"That sounds stupid," the assistant referee snorted and narrowed his eyes, "I don't think anyone would want to do that. Besides, I don't even like dry fruits."

"You may not like eating them, but you don't like selling them as well?" Lirzod asked, wiggling his brows.

"To be frank," the assistant referee's neck stiffened a bit, "not just selling seeds but growing trees is also a tedious process."

"Maybe, but that's what makes them different from money." Lirzod offered a bemused smile. "You can't sow coins and expect them to germinate. Though finding any good seed can get immensely harder than we can imagine,it's not like we will be at a loss if we don't find one. It requires a decent amount of time for some trees to bear fruit, but in return for your effort, they will provide more to you than what coins can. That's why seeds are a lot better than coins in many ways. Coins increase your wealth whereas seeds increase your worth in the world. Coins may come and go, but a seed doesn't change as per the need. It gives us exactly what we expect—"

"What rubbish," the assistant referee waved his hand in displeasure and gave a glassy stare, "I can earn a lot more by investing the silver in some business, and with sufficient luck on my side, who knows, I might even earn enough to easily buy off multiple almond trees at once just for the fun of it. This way, I wouldn't have to do any labor, but I will still be earning more, haha." He protruded his chest out and lifted his chin as if he won an argument.

"You don't know that for sure," Lirzod said and squinted his eyes that glistened with an inner glow, "can you guarantee that by the end of the year your money will be doubled? What if someone cheats you midway? You will lose all of your money, but if it's an almond tree, you will only have to work and wait for around five years for the tree to bear fruit, but afterward, you will get around five silver per tree in a single harvest. And if you own dozens of such trees that bear fruit at the same time, you will be bathing in a golden bathtub, man."

The assistant referee paused a moment. Until seconds ago, he appeared unbothered by Lirzod's words, but now, he wasn't feeling the same anymore. He cleared his throat and loosened himself a bit before replying, "But, but this involves risks as well. What if some storm messes up my trees?"

"Isn't there a certain level of risk in everything that we do? Just choose a region that suits the seed and where violent storms are rare guests, and that should do," Lirzod's voice sounded light-hearted yet held some weight—enough of it for his opinions to be considered, "I'm not speaking this groundlessly. There's this guy named Allda in my clan. He climbed ranks in the clan with a similar strategy. Many years ago, he took dozens of wasted acres for lease, planted quality seeds in those lands, and now, he's not only stinking rich, but he also gets respected for his works. He now owns all those lands he previously took for lease, and he always has enough nuts to spare on his stupid squirrels. He's ventured into other businesses as well. Just imagine yourself in his place—you get to eat enough almonds until your farts smell like them."

"Eat?" the assistant referee raised his brow, "I thought we were talking about selling."

"U-Uh, yeah," Lirzod was taken by surprise, and he ended up awkwardly laughing, somewhat puzzling the assistant referee. "You can do both. You will have that luxury."

"Hm, true. All this sounds quite tempting," the assistant referee just realized that Lirzod's words had long salivated his mouth. "I guess I'll spend these extra silver I earn for that long term plan. And also, I should thank you for telling me this method of working."

"You can thank Allda when you've become rich," Lirzod said, and his heartbeat then slowed down a bit, "but for now, can you sell this cat to me?" he glanced at the cat that had two of its front legs broken.

"That—I can't do. The only cats we give away are the unruly or the gravely injured ones."

"You mean this isn't gravely injured," Lirzod had an overall weighted feeling.

"Not really. These sort of injuries are kind of common for the cats. With extra meat, this cat should get going just fine in a month or so."

Though the assistant referee had said that, Lirzod didn't want to believe his words, for he had already perceived how the guy was lying through his teeth. Lirzod's brows pulled down in concentration. "Who brought the cat to this state?"

"Uh, not long ago, a crazy dude, Seswatt if I remember his name right. That bastard burned half of the cats to death and broke the limbs of many more." Hurt and disappointment saturated the assistant referee's words, "we were forced to do salary-less jobs for weeks because of that. Many cats died in miserable ways right in front of our eyes, but there was little that we could do. This cat is just one among the victims that somehow made it."

A surge of bitterness rose in Lirzod's belly, causing him to bite his lower lip, for it was hard to swallow a breath, "I wish I were here when that happened. I would have broken his teeth for good."

"Heh, if it were that easy, I would have done it myself, but that's just us dreaming for the dead and buried." The assistant referee's shoulders slumped a little, for he was unable to shake off the guilt and defeat. He took a breath before continuing, "Even if you were here, you would have at best gotten stained by the smoke and at worse gotten roasted together with the cats. That's all that would have happened." He sighed and then suddenly stumbled, "Wait, I almost forgot about the test!" His eyes enlarged and heartbeat rang in his ears as he quickly looked outside the room only to find out that Jehez was arguing with Gon and also a girl. "Whew…" he breathed a sigh of relief and quickly turned to Lirzod. "Choose the cat! Quick!"

"You are right," Lirzod nodded and looked around to survey the cats. Moments later, he ambled toward a small clowder of cats.

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," soon after getting closer to the group of cats chilling on the ground, Lirzod leaned forward and yelled, 'Bow!" All the cats bounced off their bellies in startlement and scampered away.

"What the heck are you doing?" the assistant referee couldn't help but query in a stressed tone.

"Choosing the cat," Lirzod made his way to another clowder and shouted again, "Bow!" All the cats bolted away from him this time, too, but he repeated this process, and after a few attempts, he found a healthy-looking black cat which didn't run away, for it was sound asleep, resting in a strange position that exposed its belly. It was the first time that Lirzod saw a cat snore in such a manner. The cat also had a tiny bit of white hairs at the end of its long and thick tail. The long whiskers at its mouth stuck out sideways and waved with each breath it took, and even the whiskers by its eyes stood upright as if they were ready to detect even the slightest changes in a breeze. The feline was without a doubt a full-grown adult, probably in its peak stage of life. All of these impressions made the cat appear mighty in Lirzod's eyes, mightier enough that it could make all the approaching dogs beat a hasty retreat, to say the least. "Hehe, I found one." Lirzod gave out a neat nod.

The assistant referee's skin tingled, and he voiced denial right away, "Wait, you don't want that cat."

"Hm? What's wrong with it?"

"There's nothing wrong with him, and that's the problem," the assistant referee strode toward Lirzod, and maybe it was the sound of his footsteps, or maybe it was his voice, the snoring of the cat stopped, and it opened its eyes, rolled its body so that it got back to a proper position before stretching its legs. Its prolonged yawn exposed its sharp and threatening teeth. "With fifty-four straight victories, he has recently entered the top ten list of cats of all time in terms of consecutive wins. He is Bruiser the current Lord of Cats of Cat Home. He is the only cat who can take more than just a catnap even when all the other cats are duking it out in a deadly brawl. He's somewhat used to me being around, but you should avoid looking him in the eye for too long, or he'll claw at you." As the assistant referee was saying, Bruiser clawed at another cat which simply stood nearby. "See, I told you. All the contestants who chose him in the past suffered more than just simple scratches. That's why no one likes him. I suggest that you choose another—"

"I like him," Lirzod's voice contained strength.

"What?" the assistant referee was surprised. "Didn't you hear what I said?"

"I did," Lirzod said and smiled. "That's why I choose this cat. He's the one I want to compete with."

"Compete?" the assistant referee looked at Lirozd in a daze. "Are you serious? You can't trick Bruiser with food. He's the kind to look for food on his own and vent the itching in his claws by clashing with other cats. You just saw him do that. Trust me when I say this—you don't want to wrestle with him."

"Well," Lirzod glanced at him in a weightless gaze, "I'll take my chances and see if I can bring out a gesture or two from this fellow."

"Hmph, that's not even a joke. You are not a son of the night to think you can control a cat with simple gestures," the assistant referee's tone hardened as he folded his arms across the chest. "Let me tell you this… Bruiser has never shown any gesture till now other than hostility. And whenever he gets aggressive, the contestants get gifted with a loss and what's more the bruises that'll bother for ages."

"It's fine. I still choose Bruiser," Lirzod turned back and began to walk. "We'll see who bothers who."

"If you are that itching to lose, then so be it," the assistant referee involuntarily lifted his shoulders a bit, "but don't blame me afterward for your bruises. You are bringing this trouble on yourself."

"Roger, man," Lirzod gave the thumbs up without looking back.

Meanwhile, not too far away from the hall.

Booboo and the three of his escorts just stopped nearby a bread booth where there was another man—in similar clothing as the three fellows—who now tossed swords into the hands of his buddies.

Booboo looked around, and the street was pretty much desolate, and by this time, the four men stationed themselves in four spots and blocked the donkey's path. "Why did we, hic, stop here?" Booboo asked, fixing the fish pole along the donkey's neck.

"Because this is where we'll strip everything off you including your underwear!" One of the four men swung the sword straight at Booboo from his right side. A two-handed grip would likely result in a swing that could cleave through the skin and flesh and some part of the bone in the arm as well, for a grown-up man was in action. Still, with but a swift yet uncomplicated leg movement, Booboo booted the sword from underneath, hurling the weapon out of the man's hands and into the air.

Though surprised, the other three men immediately rushed in, thrusting their swords from three directions—the front, left, and behind. "Die!" they roared as their weapons drove through the air.

The sound of approaching doom converged on Booboo from three different directions. "Duck, Heehaw!" he bent forward while seated atop his ride, forcing the baby crow to employ its wings, and subsequently, the donkey abruptly crumpled to its knees, startling the incoming men, and hence their swords ended up missing Booboo by a thin margin.

The points of the three swords met in a clinking noise and deflected onto each other's bodies. The points gleamed as the swords swished sharply through the air and penetrated the upper chest regions of the three men before they could even get a proper footing on the ground.

At that instant, the fourth sword that had bounced off the ceiling now fell straight in Booboo's hand. He gyrated on his buttocks and cut through the wrist of the three men without warning. The already bleeding men got terror-struck by his actions, fell to their backsides, howled in horror as little fountains of blood poured out of their wrists. The fourth guy, who was witnessing all that, shook in his sandals as Booboo now tottered toward him.

"Any unmastered weapon considers its master a potential feast of flesh, hic," Booboo stopped in front of the fourth man and flipped the sword so that the hilt faced that man. "I took some pleasure in swinging the sword around, but it's yours, right? You can have it."

Booboo's words wet his underwear, for he thought that Booboo would let him attack only to get his wrist cut as well. "Please, don't kill me!" the man made a crying expression and resembled a rat cornered by a cat. His eyes weren't even on the sword. "K-Killing is wrong on this ship. Please don't kill me." He pleaded.

"Killing is forbidden on this vessel in this day and age. I know," Booboo let go of the sword and curled his arm around the man's shoulders, "but more importantly, do you know of the man on this deck who owns a star-like frog?"

"U-Uh," the man's voice was still quite shaky as Booboo made him walk together, "you mean the star-shaped frog—yeah, yeah, we know him… sir."

"Can you lead me to him?" Booboo asked, and the baby crow landed back on top of his hat.

"Yes, sure, sir," the man was too afraid to start to a conversation, but he wanted to gain a good impression in Booboo's eyes and escape with his wrists intact, so he forced himself and asked, "Do you want to watch the circus of the star-shaped frog as well?"

"Maybe, hic, I'll buy the frog if it is up to the mark of my imaginations."

"T-That circus man got a bad reputation for the way he treats his fans. If you make deals with him, some of his negative fame might transfer to you, sir," Though he could hear the screams of his friends from behind, he leaked out a forced smile as he conversed.

"Well, negative fame is nothing to worry about," Booboo took a sip of Naive Wine before continuing, "he makes money with the frog, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he does fill his pockets with silver, sir, but he also faces a great amount of criticism for his ways of doing things."

"Doesn't matter. If it makes you rich, it is right. Lead me to the circus."

"Y-Yes, sir." As the two of them left the spot, the donkey followed them, walking strangely, for it couldn't freely move its neck around as the fishing pole was in the way.

The three wounded men, on the other hand, suffered from different kinds of pain that burned through their chests and wrists better than any boiling liquid, and especially the one at their wrists controlled all of their thoughts and actions. Their minds spun in a blizzard of blackness, and no matter how hard they clenched their jaws, the spinning won't stop, and eventually, their minds blanked out unable to withstand the tribulation.