Freya soon found Oswald in the crowd.
But she immediately regretted it.
She would have been better off not finding him! Oswald's old face was covered in smiles as he raised a full glass of ice-cold beer and draped an arm around the shoulders of a human youth who looked to be only twenty or thirty years old. That young man was the very fellow whose roar had nearly pierced Freya's eardrums moments ago.
"I told you, didn't I? I told you! Pierre Rick is a hero!"
The young man's face was already flushed red.
He slung an arm around Oswald's shoulders, his face alight with excitement. "He did it! Three goals in the final ten minutes to turn it around—!"
Then he climbed onto the table at the front of the bar—one foot on a stool and the other on the bar counter. As though playing an instrument, he passionately stroked the air with his right hand.
"Come~back~!"
He stared at the Lizardman bartender calmly wiping a glass, leaned his face over, and sang out with deep emotion. The bartender patted his right leg, which was planted on the bar counter, signaling him to put it down.
When the bartender ignored him, the young man simply stood on one leg, raised his glass high with one hand, and planted his other foot on the chair he had just been sitting on. His whole body began spinning with the swivel chair as he sang loudly, "Come—back—!"
The other people in the bar also began egging him on, wanting to see how long he could keep spinning like that. Even Oswald was cheering him on.
He clapped enthusiastically and shouted himself hoarse in encouragement.
Just then, while spinning, the young man noticed Freya and Lily standing at the entrance.
He whistled