Cynisca's Olympic Games (3)

Back in the main stadium, Mari- Henri Berla quickly squeezed out of the athletes' rest area. Just then, Bauséant was watching eagerly.

"Hey, here you go, brother. I remember we're about the same size. You've worn my clothes and my shoes, and you even caught my athlete's foot in the process—so I bought a set in my size. Go and change into it." Marie- Henri Berla said, handing over the bag of clothes.

"Okay, thank you so much," said Bauséant. "Now that you mention it, my toes are starting to itch again... Damn it, there's no changing room here."

"Ah, my friend, never mind that. All the people crammed here are men. If you can reveal something we don't even recognize, you won't need to compete anymore. We'll just send you straight to the Academy of Sciences of Sciences' lab for dissection," Marie- Henri Berla laughed.

Bauséant looked around, then began to take off his pants.

Bauséant changed into the tracksuit, stretched a bit, and then said, "I feel much lighter now. No wonder those Greece back then... Hmm, how much does this cost?"

"One hundred and one franc! You're telling me they dare ask for so much for just a few pieces of cloth? Why don't they just rob us?"

"That's normal. 'Chris's' clothing is just ridiculously expensive. But believe it or not, if 'Chris's' clothes weren't this expensive, nobody would buy them. Many people buy these clothes not because of the clothes themselves, but because of what they represent," said Bauséant. "For example, the 'Chris's' clothing line always has a slightly quirky design, but some people just like that style."

"They don't like the style itself; they like wearing these clothes so they can show the poor that they're penniless, and the old-fashioned rich that they're out of touch with the times," Marie- Henri Berla replied.

"Perhaps," said Bauséant. "But you just mentioned robbery. Well, I'd say buying these kinds of clothes is far more efficient than robbery. Think about it, if you want to rob someone, you first have to find a target, determine if they have any money on them, and whether it's worth robbing them. You also have to determine if their bulging pockets contain a wallet or a pistol, and whether you'll get killed if you try to rob them. You also have to risk getting caught by the police. And then, for example, if you rob me, you only get thirty francs."

But look at them, they don't have to go through all that trouble. They sit inside the store, and you just walk right up to them, open your wallet, take out all your money, and hand it to them. If they're not satisfied, you might even borrow money from family and friends to give to them—have you ever seen a robbed person borrow money from family and friends to give to the robber? That's why I despise those robbers the most; they have absolutely no skill involved..."

Just then, the loudspeaker outside blared again; a group of athletes were about to begin their second round of sprinting.

"Hey buddy, it's almost my turn, I need to get ready. Yeah, you should go back to the stands too!" said Bauséant.

"Okay, good luck! I wish you continued progress!" said Marie- Henri Berla.

Back in her seat, just as she sat down, Mary- Henri Berla heard the girl exclaim again, "My God, why are they all dressed like that!"

Marie- Henri Berla quickly raised his binoculars and looked out onto the field, noticing that almost all the athletes had been dressed in vests and shorts. Upon closer inspection, he noticed something amiss: the vests had buttons, and the shorts—good heavens!—were clearly made with scissors, not a knife. Nobody would bring scissors to a competition. As for knives, those were easy to find; the police maintaining order certainly had them.

Shorts are simply long pants that have been cut short. Some guys are so bad at it that the two sides of the pants are even different lengths. As for tank tops, it's the same. If you look closely, you can see that those tank tops have had the sleeves cut off with scissors or even a knife.

Besides the changes in attire, another change is that many people have started to imitate the starting posture of the Sun reporter. Nearly half of the participants adopted a half-squatting starting posture. However, many people only watched it once and then tried to imitate it, so their posture was not maintained correctly and looked somewhat awkward.

However, it turned out that even such clumsy imitations were quite effective. As soon as the starting gun fired, those in the lead were indeed people who had cut off their sleeves and trouser legs and adopted a starting posture with their butts sticking out—although there was one fool who, due to poor technique, tripped and fell at the start and ended up at the back. However, the top two in this group were both quick learners.

Clearly, the performance of each group directly impacted the runners in the next group. So by the time the next group reached the starting line, everyone was wearing a vest and shorts. And by the time it was the next group, Bauséant's group, everyone was in the starting preparation position with their rear ends sticking out. The entire group's speed had noticeably increased. Even so, Bauséant still won his group, although Marie- Henri Bell intuitively felt he was probably still slower than the Sun reporter.

Marie- Henri Bell was about to go down to celebrate with his classmates when he saw the next group of runners already on the track, while a buzzing sound came from the stands.

"What's wrong?" Marie- Henri Bell quickly looked over. He immediately noticed that this group was indeed different; there were two reporters in this group!

One was a reporter from the Sun whom Mary- Henri Bell had already met, and the other was a reporter whose chest bore the words "Science Truth Daily" printed on it.

"A clash of titans! This is going to be exciting!" Marie- Henri Bell forgot all about celebrating his friend's victory and immediately focused intently on the game.

"Hey bro, who do you think will win? 'Science Truth Daily' or 'The Sun'?" A young man sitting next to him, probably getting excited, patted Mary- Henri Bell on the shoulder and said this.

"I think it's the Sun," Mary- Henri Bell said. "I've heard that the guys at Science Truth Daily don't actually need to go out and run around; the news gets to them on its own. The Sun, on the other hand, really does have to go out and run around."

"I don't know, but there is such a saying... Ah, it's about to begin!"

The athletes began their starting positions, their eight buttocks sticking up high. With the sound of the starting gun, all eight surged forward, and sure enough, the two reporters were noticeably faster, with the one from "The Sun" clearly faster than the one from "Science Truth Daily." At the finish line, he left the reporter from "Science Truth Daily" at least two meters behind.

"Sure enough, there's no one in the world who can run faster than a reporter from 'The Sun'!" the young man next to him shouted.

That concludes Bauséant's day of competition. There are still some competitions to go, but Mari- Henri Bell isn't planning on watching any further. He's going to check out the show jumping arena that's about to begin. If he could afford it, he could even ride his own horse onto the track right now, but Mari- Henri Bell doesn't have that kind of money, and even if he did, he wouldn't be willing to spend it—the track rental fee is more exorbitant than the "Chris" dealership.

However, as a registered participant, he still has one free privilege: he can enter the racecourse to inspect the track in person by presenting his participation certificate. Of course, this inspection is limited. He cannot enter the track; he can only observe the track facilities from the staff walkway outside the track.

Marie- Henri Bell arrived at the entrance to the equestrian track and took out his competition pass from the cavalry backpack he carried. A guard carefully examined the pass several times before returning it to him, indicating that he could enter.

"Athletes are currently practicing on the track to familiarize themselves with the facilities. When you are inspecting the track, please refrain from speaking loudly, shouting, or making any sudden movements."

Marie- Henri Bell nodded, indicating complete understanding. As a veteran cavalryman, he knew that horses were actually quite timid and sensitive animals, easily startled. Warhorses, after a series of training sessions, were somewhat better in this regard, but racehorses were a different story.

Considering the cost of renting a racetrack for a lap, Marie- Henri Bell couldn't help but recall the description of the relationship between private property and inequality in The Origin and Foundations of Inequality Among Men. He couldn't help but sigh to himself, "Indeed, the emergence of private property is the root of inequality."

A staff member then led Marie- Henri Bell inside. He led Marie- Henri Bell onto the staff walkway, where other competitors were also inspecting the venue.

The staff walkway was a path used by staff right next to the track. It wasn't much narrower than the track and was wide enough for a horse to run. Marie- Henri Bell walked along this path, led by one of the staff members.

At each obstacle, the staff member would report its height and other data, such as its distance from the previous obstacle, which Marie- Henri Bell would carefully record in his notebook with a pencil.

The road then suddenly turned, and a rather high obstacle appeared in front of them.

"Luckily, I came to check beforehand, otherwise, this would have been quite troublesome. A turn like this will definitely slow the horse down significantly, and after turning, there won't be much time to accelerate. There's such a high obstacle ahead; it'll be quite difficult for 'Little Smarty' to jump over it. Maybe I should wear a vest and shorts, and also not eat too much, and not drink water before the race..."

Just as he was thinking this, Mary- Henri Bell suddenly heard the sound of rapid hoofbeats.