Locke and Er (II)

Chapter 22: Locke and Er (2)

The second time Lorist saw Er, he seemed to be… streaking? If running around naked, covered in plaster powder, and panting heavily didn't count as streaking, then Lorist didn't know what did.

A month and a half had passed since that hero-saves-the-beauty incident, and Lorist had finally recovered from the pain of losing money. Fatty Shi had also been complaining less recently, making his ears much cleaner. Good luck had returned as well. A noble had hired Lorist to provide a month of basic swordsmanship training for his child, with a salary of three Gold Fude. This fortunate opportunity was introduced by Instructor Krudd from the academy. The noble had originally requested Instructor Krudd, but he claimed he didn't have the time and recommended Lorist instead.

That evening, after finishing two hours of swordsmanship training with the noble's son, Lorist noticed the gentle night breeze and the crisp autumn air. On a whim, he decided to walk back to the academy and buy something for a late-night snack along the way.

Lorist remembered a small shop selling braised beef just around the next corner. Fatty Shi had taken him there once or twice, and it tasted quite good. Yes, he'd buy some braised beef and a barrel of mead to shut Fatty Shi up. As he was contemplating this, a person suddenly rushed out from the corner ahead. The person was deathly pale, and upon closer inspection, Lorist realized they were completely naked.

Damn it, I've run into a lunatic. Lorist quickly stepped back a few paces, preparing to avoid the madman charging towards him.

Unexpectedly, as the madman ran past, he glanced at Lorist, stopped, turned around, grabbed Lorist's shoulder, and exclaimed happily, "Hey, it's you, brother! Great, do me a favor and lend me this cloak."

The voice sounded familiar. Lorist, who had been about to struggle free, listened carefully and took a closer look. Huh? Isn't this Er? He's covered in plaster powder, panting heavily, with sweat and dirt forming abstract patterns on his body.

"What happened to you?" Lorist asked, surprised. He'd never heard of a gang leader being a fan of street performance art.

"Don't ask, I lost a bet. Lend me your cloak to cover up, quickly," Er urged.

Alright, this cloak was originally meant for light rain at night. The moon was bright tonight, and the weather was clear, so he'd lend it to him.

Lorist took off his cloak and draped it over Er. Er turned and continued to run, kindly reminding him, "You should run too, or you'll be too late."

Run? Why should I run? I'm not a lunatic... Lorist turned around and was stunned…

When did such a large, dark crowd appear around the corner? They were carrying brooms, bamboo poles, furnace stoking rods, and even water ladles. What were they planning to do? It was so late, they wouldn't be starting a street cleaning drive, would they?

Before Lorist could figure out what was happening, he heard shouts from the crowd: "They're together..." "He gave his clothes to that pervert..." "Beat him..." "Don't let him escape..." "Catch him..."

Suddenly, Lorist was surrounded. Brooms, bamboo poles, and water ladles were being swung at him. Shielding his head with his hands, Lorist shouted, "Stop... What are you doing... What's going on?..."

Amidst the chaos, he could only catch fragmented phrases like "Beat him to death..." "...bathroom... peeking..." "...accomplice..."

Lorist wanted to retaliate, but he realized that none of the people beating him had any Battle Qi; they were all ordinary people. This made it difficult for him to fight back. If he wasn't careful, he could kill someone. Helpless, Lorist could only activate his Battle Qi to protect himself and endure the beating.

An old woman carrying a water ladle finally managed to push her way to the front. She looked Lorist up and down and said, "Dispel your Battle Qi."

"Huh?" Lorist didn't understand.

"I said, dispel your protective Battle Qi!" the old woman shouted.

"What do you want to do?"

"If you don't dispel your Battle Qi, how can I teach you a lesson? My old arms and legs get tired after just a few hits. Fighting you with Battle Qi active would be like tickling you!" the old woman said, her tone like she was scolding her grandson.

By this time, the people around them were tired of hitting him. They had all stopped. Those outside only knew that someone was being beaten inside, but they didn't know who. Some outside, holding their weapons, were so squeezed they couldn't tell north from south, and they just yelled, "Where's that little thief?" "Caught him, right..." "Bring him out, bring him out..."

Seeing that everyone around him had calmed down, Lorist also breathed a sigh of relief. He dispelled his Battle Qi and said to the old woman, "Alright, but what is this about..."

Before he could finish speaking, the bottom of a water ladle loomed large before his eyes. With a "clang," it landed squarely on his eye socket, and stars danced before his vision. Ouch, that hurts! he heard the old woman scolding, "Serves you right for not learning your lesson..."

"Bang," another hit, "Serves you right for sneaking into the women's bathhouse to peek..."

"Thump," "Serves you right for posing as a plaster statue..."

Lorist had wanted to activate his Battle Qi to defend himself after the first hit, but upon hearing the old woman scolding him for sneaking into the women's bathhouse to peek and posing as a plaster statue, he deflated. Finally, he understood why Er was covered in plaster powder and running naked. Damn it, Er, you just wait...

"I'm innocent! It wasn't me... Gag..." Lorist's cry sounded utterly tragic.

Lorist took a solid beating from the old woman's water ladle. Taking advantage of her momentary lapse, he crawled on the ground and squeezed through the gaps between people's legs to escape. He received numerous kicks and shoves as he fled. After breaking free from the encirclement, his clothes were not only filthy but also torn into rags, leaving him almost naked.

He found a corner and sat down, wanting to catch his breath, when "clink," a copper coin landed on the ground in front of him. Someone passing by saw Lorist and mistook him for a beggar. His appearance was indeed quite pathetic, so out of sympathy, the person casually tossed him a coin.

Lorist gritted his teeth as he clutched the copper coin, "Er, Er, you just wait for me..."

But where could he find Er? Lorist remembered what Fatty Shi had said: this guy was always rootless and elusive. Although he was the leader of a gang in three districts, his subordinates handled all the actual business. However, his uncle was the owner of the Red Raven Tavern, and Er feared his uncle the most.

Right, I'll find his uncle, Garilando. That old man is a righteous person. If he finds out Er ran into the women's bathhouse to pose as a plaster statue and peek at women bathing, he'll surely give Er a memorable lesson.

Lorist hailed a horse-drawn carriage. However, it took considerable effort to convince the coachman that he wasn't a beggar. Finally, after paying the fare in advance, the coachman agreed to take him to the Red Raven Tavern. As Lorist got out of the carriage, the coachman politely said, "Sir, although your attire is quite unique, I must advise you to change before going in, otherwise, I can't guarantee you won't be thrown out. Good luck, sir."

Fortunately, Lorist wasn't thrown out. Garilando still remembered this young man who had beaten his nephew to the ground and made him act shamelessly. The only thing that puzzled the old man was how this young man, who seemed to be quite skilled, had ended up in such a sorry state. He wasn't visibly injured, no bloody wounds were visible, just a bruised and swollen face, looking like he'd been severely beaten.

"How did you get into this state?" Garilando asked.

"Uncle, have you seen Er? I was all implicated because of him!"

Lorist explained that he had seen Er running naked on the street and, out of kindness, lent him a cloak to cover himself. Who knew he'd be mistaken for Er's accomplice and get beaten for nothing? He only found out later that Er had angered everyone by posing as a plaster statue in the women's bathhouse to peek at women bathing, which led to him being chased naked. If he had known this earlier, he would have pretended not to know Er and let him die.

The tavern patrons and waitresses nearby burst into laughter, leaning forward and chiming in, "It's not surprising. Peeking is Er's favorite pastime. Whenever the tavern waitresses and guests are intimate or bathing, who hasn't been spied on by him? Just ask around."

Old man Garilando's face darkened. He instructed the waitress Louise to serve Lorist a glass of Blackberry Mead to calm his nerves, then turned and went out to find Er.

Not long after, the old man dragged Er in by the ear. Er was wearing pajamas, which had several footprints on them, clearly indicating he had been kicked out of bed by the old man.

The old man occasionally hit Er, muttering, "Serves you right for going into the women's bathhouse, serves you right for posing as a plaster statue. Do fewer shameful things, okay? Is it that satisfying to sneak peeks at old women bathing every day..."

Er cried out in pain while retorting, "I wasn't peeking, I was practicing stealth! Who would be interested in watching old women bathe..."

The old man pushed Er in front of Lorist. "Speak, what exactly happened?"

Er turned and saw Lorist, startled, "Ah? Brother, what happened? Weren't you fine on the street just now?"

Lorist wished he could smash his wine glass in Er's face, "What do you think? Why were so many people chasing you? How dare you ask me?"

Er understood, "So they caught you? Didn't I kindly remind you to run? You didn't listen to your brother and suffered for it."

"I... I'll be damned, I wasn't in the women's bathhouse peeking, why should I run!" Lorist was furious.

"Don't be angry, my good brother," Er said generously, patting Lorist's shoulder. "Your old brother apologizes and makes amends. How about this, I'll pay for all the drinks tonight. Drink as much as you want."

Damn it, did I come to you for a few drinks? Lorist felt utterly deflated. He should have known how lazy and shameless this guy was from their last encounter. Perhaps he shouldn't have come to settle accounts with him at all.

Meanwhile, Er, without any pretense of respect, was already ordering the tavern maids to serve a mug of mead to all the patrons, on his tab. This caused a roar of approval from the customers, completely disregarding the dark expression on old man Garilando's face.

The old man gave Er a rap on the head. "Treating people? When have you ever paid for a treat? Spit it out, what were you doing in the women's bathhouse tonight? If you don't tell me clearly, don't blame me for breaking your legs. It's better than you embarrassing yourself out there every day."

Er rubbed his head, finally becoming serious. The matter wasn't complicated. Er had indeed made a bet and gone into the women's bathhouse; he wasn't lying about that.

Er had a dream: he wanted to revive the rogue class from the era of magic civilization. Legend had it that rogues back then weren't like the petty thieves of today. Those rogues were elusive and ghost-like, masters of lockpicking, stealth, vanishing, assassination, reconnaissance, tracking, and traps. There was also the mysterious Rogue Guild. Er was deeply fascinated by it.

Coincidentally, Er's family's Battle Qi was the rare Dark Attribute. Thus, Er believed his ancestors were those legendary rogues. He then dedicated himself to practicing the innate skills of that legendary rogue profession. These skills were all things he'd figured out on his own, like the "stealth" he often boasted about.

A couple of days ago, Er was drinking with friends and bragging about how he trained his rogue skills and how amazing they were. One friend retorted, "If rogue skills were truly that amazing, they wouldn't have been lost to history. Doesn't that book describing the hero's adventures in the magic civilization era mention a rogue infiltrating an enemy princess's bathhouse to eavesdrop on a plot hatched by the princess and her lover to frame the hero? I don't need you to infiltrate a princess's bathhouse. See that public bathhouse at the street corner ahead? If you can get into the women's bathhouse and hide there until they close without being discovered, then I'll admit your rogue skills are impressive..."

Er agreed. However, he found it easy to sneak in, but there was nowhere to hide. The women's bathhouse was a large room. Besides three large and four small pools, it was otherwise empty and in plain sight. The two corridors were straight, and burly matrons patrolled them frequently.

Finally, Er set his sights on a discarded plaster statue in a corner of the bathhouse. The statue depicted a man of life-size, standing in a pensive pose. Perhaps the bathhouse owner felt it was inappropriate to place it in the middle of the women's bathhouse, so it had been moved to a corner.

The day before, Er entered the women's bathhouse late at night and broke the plaster statue, taking the pieces away. Then, before the women's bathhouse opened the following evening, he went in again, covered himself in plaster powder, and stood there posing as the statue.

Er was confident no one would discover him. Firstly, the statue was placed in a corner, facing the wall. As long as he held the pose correctly, most people would only glance at it. Secondly, the lighting in the women's bathhouse wasn't very bright, and the steam added to the hazy atmosphere. Even if he made a slight movement, it wouldn't attract attention.

This was indeed the case, but there's always an exception. Two young women, giggling, walked straight towards Er and stopped beside him. It turned out they were looking for a private place to whisper.

One woman, voluptuously built, was recounting her passionate and romantic night with her lover to her best friend. The other, inexperienced, listened with a mixture of envy and fear. As the voluptuous woman got carried away, she impulsively pulled off a tattered cloth tied around the plaster statue's waist.

The plaster statue was originally nude. Although it had been moved to the corner, some female customers had raised objections. Finally, the bathhouse owner had tied a piece of cloth around the statue's waist to avoid offending modesty.

Er, disguised as the statue, naturally had to wear this cloth around his waist. At this moment, it was yanked off by the voluptuous woman. He felt a sudden coolness below as the woman pointed at her own "little bird" and said to her friend, "Come, look. Most men's little birds look like this. Don't be fooled by its size; if we tease it a little, it becomes thick and long. If you use your mouth, it gets hard the fastest."

As she spoke, the voluptuous woman fondled it a few times, exclaiming, "Yes, it feels just like this. Sis, you try a few times too, it'll get longer and harder immediately."

The woman beside her stared with wide, horrified eyes, watching the entire plaster statue tremble. The voluptuous woman, oblivious, continued to tease it, "See, sis? It's like this, it's gotten longer and harder. If you stroke it a few more times, it'll even spit at you. Like this..."

She stroked it hard several times and opened her mouth, making smacking sounds. Then, the "little bird" in her hand, as if on cue, spat.

"This is too fast, and it's not even as big as my boyfriend's from last night. It's useless..." the voluptuous woman commented.

Er could no longer maintain his disguise, especially after the voluptuous woman's last sentence, which was a devastating blow to him. "Useless, utterly useless..."

He shoved the two women aside, jumped down from the plaster statue's base, and ran towards the exit of the bathhouse, desperately wanting to find a place to cry. "Useless, utterly useless..." The words echoed only in his mind.

"The statue's alive..." "Oh my god, goddess above, what is happening?" "No, it's a person, it's a man..." some who reacted quickly realized the truth. "It's a man, naked! Catch that lecherous peeping tom!"

The entire women's bathhouse descended into chaos. The voluptuous woman finally understood what was happening. Enraged, her scream became ear-splitting: "Catch him! How dare he take liberties with me! Beat him to death..."

The three burly matrons guarding the entrance of the bathhouse stared dumbfounded at a naked man rushing out of the women's bathhouse. It wasn't until they heard the screams from inside that they understood: "Stop right there, you shameless scoundrel who dared to peep in the women's bathhouse!"

The entire street was then in an uproar.

Er only came to his senses after running out of the bathhouse, but now he had half the street chasing him. He couldn't even find clothes to cover himself and had to keep running. Then, as he rounded a street corner, he saw Lorist.

This was the second meeting between Lorist and Er. Both were injured. Lorist's injuries were physical; Er's were to his soul. Because of this, he suffered from low self-esteem for a very, very long time.