Ignition (Eleven)

"Your transformation is really something!"

Blood dripped from his cheek onto the carriage. The Clown didn't rush to answer Fu Qian's question, instead taking a moment to express his feelings.

"I believe now that you wear a mask not out of cowardice. You don't seem to care whether others find you repulsive."

"High praise."

If anyone else had said that, Fu Qian might have thought they were being sarcastic. But this man clearly meant it.

"So you still haven't answered my question. Why do you hate carriages?"

"It's simple. They're the most tedious things of all, the most boring aspect of this place."

The Clown made a turning motion with both hands.

"Smooth, steady, never-ending. Every time I see one, it's like spotting a film reel when you turn around at the exciting part of a movie. It reminds you that everything was predetermined long ago."

"I see. I thought it might be because of their appearance."

Fu Qian nodded.

Clearly, despite his low rank, this man had keen senses. He'd even brushed up against some of the fundamental principles governing this world.

"That's why I said you're lucky today. In a little while, you should see a carriage that isn't on a film reel."

"Now that's something I'm looking forward to!"

The excitement in the Clown's voice sounded entirely genuine.

"What else do you want to know?"

Now that was what you called a pleasant conversation!

Fu Qian was very pleased with the man's response and made no effort to hold back.

"Do you know where I can find fire?"

"Fire?"

The Clown stared for a moment, then seemed to find the question amusing. He laughed so hard he doubled over.

In his excitement, a flash of cold steel glinted in his hand, and he flung his dagger away.