PATRIARCH FOWL
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Casual Heroing, Chapter 90
🕑 Added 2023-04-13 17:18:35 +0000 UTCRead-y Link (Mobile Optimized Reader)
FEAR?! 💀💀💀
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Chapter 90 – Fear
"Stay still! Yooo!" I bellow at the man, who is laughing so hard his body shakes like a leaf in the wind while I attempt to trim his hair. My scissors’ rhythmic snipping is drowned out by the cacophony of his laughter. “Goddammit!” I say as I cut a lock too short.
“Humans are absolutely rotten!” The guy keeps laughing as I sigh. I just told him a dirty joke and re-adapted to fit the times without electrical devices. “And I don’t mean it in a bad way, Joey.”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I know. There aren’t any Humans in Amorium, right? I’m like an exotic animal here. The Human, Lucanus.”
"Ah," Lucanus smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling in genuine amusement. "I doubt you would have garnered such attention if you hadn't been making a name for yourself with your craziness. Just the other day, a servant for the Valerii family came to inquire about you. He attempted to blend in as one of us, but it was evident that he was unaccustomed to the grime and dirt of our world."
“Huh? Really?” I ask.
“You bet your moldy head,” he nods.
Lucanus is one of the craftiest homeless ex-[Soldiers] that I have met. While the [Vow: Debt of Honor] makes it impossible for you to do any proper work, it doesn’t mean you can’t smuggle stuff around and sell it for a profit. He is paid for ‘favors.’ That’s his deal.
“What do you know about the nobles in Amorium?” I ask the redhead freckled Elf.
"They're not as anti-human as some other families around the continent. I've been stationed all over during my time in service," he explains, lifting the stub of a missing arm as evidence. “The Claudii are much worse than them. Plus, with all your interest in getting some… suffice to say their twodaughters are unmarried and of age. The Day of Blooming party they will be throwing will be a prime hunting ground to find them two suitable husbands. It’s also true that one of them, Diana, is an independent Adventurer, and I really doubt she would accept any of the current bidders.”
“Damn,” I whistle. “Noble stuff, huh? Aren’t nobles like in-breeding and stuff like that?”
“WHAT?!”
Lucanus looks around wildly.
“Joey, do nottalk like that around them. They choose partners based on levels and potential. They have a good relationship with the military, and usually, a couple of their children will always marry into the higher military ranks to get tax exemptions.”
“Huh,” I hum. “Do you make better children if you’ve got higher levels?”
“Absolutely,” Lucanus says as I try giving the sides of his head a nice Peaky-Blinders-inspired fade, “and rumor has it that sometimes, the nobles will have their daughters get classes made for reproduction.”
“Wild,” I mutter. “I don’t know if I want to get mixed up with that kind of stuff.”
Sounds a little too much like a Nazi eugenics experiment to me than just making love to a beautiful woman and getting children from her. But maybe they have their reasons; heh, who knows?
“Joey,” I turn to see Truffles with a little backpack on him. “Err, how much are you staying? I need five hours.”
“What?”
“I’m bringing you the truffles. I want to pay for your reading lessons. I shouldn’t get them for free.”
“Truffles, Stan said you can’t go to the Valerii’s forest. If they find you there again…”
“They won’t,” Truffles says, irritated. “Joey. How many truffles to pay for the lessons?”
“Woah, Truffles, listen, I can give them for free. Why don’t you—”
“How. Many.”
I look at the pushy blondie with wide eyes.
“One is fine,” I sigh. “As long as it’s half a fist big, it’s okay. I just needed some to flavor some fries. Do you know where I live? Tell you what, just come back to the camp, and I’ll come along before dinner. I have to shop at the market anyway.”
…
I lay down on my bed after a couple of hours of cutting hair and chatting at the Pratus. I swear, I would love to know how people spend so much time alone on Earth without going crazy. Call me crazy, but staying at the Pratus and chatting around is a balm for my soul. They say I do it for them, right? Nah, I do this for me.
Being there with them and being appreciated for something you do for your community? It’s a great life. I think that the best life possible looks pretty much like the guy in Hometown Cha Cha Cha who fixes stuff and gets enough money just to go by. That’s the life, man. Plus, if I find myself a hot dentist Elf, why not, right?
It does beg the question at this point, though – what’s next?
Magic, love, friends, and baking. That’s it, right?
What’s missing?
Oh, shoot.
The [Soldiers], right.
So, there are people here who actually believe those madmen would go as far as killing me.
A little tingle of anger disturbs my brain.
Kill me?
Kill me?
…
Ten Years Prior
“Joey!” My mother accompanies me out of the holding cell as the officer on the side shakes his head.
“Miss, I have a few things you’ll need to sign for the release on the way out. Your son punched a man in the face.”
After taking care of everything, my mother brings me to the car, and I prepare myself for a big scolding.
“What happened? I thought you just hadn’t woken up yet when I didn’t see you at the bakery,” She asks, not even looking at me. Her eyes are fixed straight on the road as she starts the car.
Fifteen-year-old me sighs.
Well, this is a bit embarrassing.
“I was shopping around the farmers’ market, and I told a guy that his produce looked like it was about to rot. He said it was the reason it was half the price. When I explained that the taste had probably been altered and it would be foolish to use it to cook, he told me to get lost and added ‘son of a bitch.’”
“How big was the man?”
My mother already knew where this was going.
“Roughly two hundred fifty pounds. Pretty big.”
“Did you break his nose?”
“Err… I think so? It crunched.”
“We’ll have our lawyers take care of the rest, then. If he presses charges, we’ll put the fear of God in this idiot,” my mother speaks callously.
“I’m sorry, mom,” I exhale. “I think we should book more visits with the shrink.”
“Already done,” she says, looking around the road and honking at a guy who’s trying to speed out of his parking spot. “When someone insults family, Joey, they don’t deserve kindness. You did well. What worries me is when you get entangled with a group of people or someone with a knife—or worse.”
“Mom,” I say, cringing, “I’m not about to carry a gun if I suffer from anger issues. Please. That’s insane.”
“Didn’t say nothing,” my mother shrugs, still not looking at me.
Since my father died two years ago, my mind has been acting up, and my mother has had to step up. I never doubted that my mother, being the Sicilian she is, would take the role of a single mother in full swing. What I did not expect was for her to give me rules on how to act violently.
“Do you remember what I told you?”
“Yes, mom. My memory hasn’t gotten that bad.”
“Spell it.”
I sigh and get a pinch on my leg for it.
“No sighing in front of your mother, mister. Spell it.”
“I need to look after myself. If someone wants to hurt me, I need to…” I cringe so hard that I can’t finish the actual sentence.
“Joey Luciani, you need to do what?”
“Mom, is this a mob movie? Like, do we really have to go through this every single time? Yeah, yeah. I need to eliminate the threat. So, what, am I going to be shooting people on the streets now?”
“No, Joey. You befriend people who were hostile to you just because of their ignorance; you exclude from your social circles those who are actively trying to harm and put you down. If a competitor tries something illegal, we put rats in their kitchen and call the health inspector. Do not act stupid with me, mister. Tell me, what’s the most important thing to take into consideration?”
“Be as nice as you can to people because that’s how one should act. If someone acts toxic, cut them off immediately and tell people it’s either them or me. Put enough rats in your competitors’ kitchens to have them close permanently or for long enough that they would go out of business while we source their suppliers and start making their life pure hell. Always finish the job,” I say the last part with emphasis.
My mother, who hasn’t looked at me since she picked me up, now turns to stare at me with her deep blue eyes – the same eyes as mine – and takes my chin in her slim, slightly wrinkled hand.
“My handsome boy. I won’t allow anyone to hurt you, Joey. No one.”
I look deep into my mother’s eyes before she resumes driving.
I found strength there.
But also.
Fear.
Comments
Fortunis
Now that's a mom I can respect.
Paratus
Joey's mom is a hitwoman.
Daniel Tabask
Good chapter. I feel that this flashback explains a lot of things about his behavior before
Xavier Joanblanq
Damn. Mama Luce is a badass
