When Cain stepped down from the arena amid a storm of roaring cheers, he was immediately surrounded by a frenzied crowd.
People looked at him with awe and worship in their eyes, and some even tried to touch him, as if doing so would let them catch a little of a champion’s aura.
The noise made him uncomfortable.
He frowned instinctively, and the powerful presence radiating from him made the crowd around him take several involuntary steps back, opening a path for him.
“Oh, my dear guardian, you were nothing short of a god descended among mortals!” Andrea Rhodea swayed over to him, not sparing his praise in the slightest, and handed Cain a letter sealed inside an ornate envelope.
“This is my letter of recommendation.
With it, Don Corneo’s doors will open to you.
But, I must ask you one more time, are you truly not willing to work at the Honeybee Inn?
I promise you, you would become everyone’s object of devotion!” Cain ignored the second half of that sentence.
He simply accepted the letter and said curtly, “Thank you.” “Cain!” Tifa and Aerith squeezed through the crowd and reached his side.
Tifa immediately stepped forward and carefully checked his body, especially his right arm.
“Your hand, is it all right?
What just happened was…” Her voice was filled with worry, along with a trace of searching curiosity.
“I’m fine.” Cain flexed his right arm.
It looked no different from any ordinary person’s, but he could still feel the faint afterglow of drained power inside it.
“It was just a… special kind of power.” He did not want to explain too much, because even he did not fully understand where that power came from.
“All right, all right.
What our hero needs right now is celebration, not an interrogation.” Aerith smiled and smoothed things over.
She naturally took Cain’s other arm and pulled him out of the crowd.
“We’ve already got one letter of recommendation.
Next, it’s time to visit the next big name.” “The next one?” Tifa asked.
“Mm-hmm, Madam M of Temomiya Massage.” Aerith wagged a finger, a mysterious smile appearing on her face.
“I asked around.
She’s also very interested in our Mr.
Guardian.” The three of them left the noisy Corneo Colosseum behind.
Led by Aerith, they passed through several alleys strung with cheap neon lights and arrived before a massage parlor that looked rather upscale.
A sign for Temomiya Massage hung at the entrance.
Two receptionists in elegant fitted dresses saw them and immediately bowed respectfully.
“Please come in.
Madam M has been expecting you.” That surprised both Tifa and Cain.
They had not expected Madam M to invite them on her own initiative.
Guided by an attendant, they entered a refined private room with a luxurious, old-world atmosphere.
Calming incense burned inside, and a graceful woman in an ornate silk robe sat behind a low tea table, leisurely preparing tea.
This was Madam M.
“Please, sit.” Madam M lifted her eyes and swept her gaze across the three of them one by one.
Her eyes were sharp, as if she could see straight through people.
When her gaze landed on Cain’s right arm, it lingered there for a moment before she smiled and said, “Mr.
Melancholy Guardian, your performance in the Corneo Colosseum was truly impressive.
Especially that arm of yours, the one that contains such mysterious power.” “We came to ask for your letter of recommendation,” Cain said directly.
He did not like beating around the bush.
“A letter of recommendation?” Madam M gave a soft laugh and pushed a freshly brewed cup of tea in front of Cain.
“My letter of recommendation does not come cheap.
That simple-minded Andrea might be won over by raw strength, but I value a person’s character more.” She paused, then continued, “You possess tremendous power, but in battle, you restrained yourself.
You did not take the lives of those thugs.
And your reason for fighting does not seem to be money or fame.” Her gaze shifted toward Tifa and Aerith.
“It was to protect the two ladies beside you.
Am I wrong?” Cain was silent for a moment.
That counted as agreement.
“I like people with principles.” Madam M’s expression became serious.
“Don Corneo’s appetite has been growing larger and larger lately.
His influence has already begun creeping into my territory, and many innocent girls have been harassed because of it.
I need a powerful ally, one with justice in his heart.
If you can promise that when I need you, you will act once on my behalf and help those who need help, I will hand over this letter of recommendation with both hands.” This was a request based on morality, not a simple transaction.
Cain looked at her.
In her eyes, he saw a trace of sincerity.
He had no desire to become too deeply involved in gang conflicts, but if it was for the sake of protecting innocent people, that was another matter.
It aligned perfectly with his own sense of justice.
“I promise,” Cain decided.
“Good.” Madam M nodded in satisfaction.
She took another letter from her sleeve and handed it over.
“This is my letter of recommendation.
Remember your promise, Mr.
Guardian.
I believe you are a man who keeps his word.” After smoothly obtaining the second letter of recommendation, the three of them left Temomiya Massage.
“One more left.” Tifa looked at the two letters in her hands.
Things were going more smoothly than she had imagined, but there was now a heavier sense of responsibility in her heart.
“The last one is from Chocobo Sam at Sam’s Delivery Service,” Aerith said.
“He’s a cheerful gambler and a complete chocobo fanatic.
If we want to get a letter of recommendation from him, we’ll probably need to appeal to his interests.” Sam’s Delivery Service was located on the other side of Wall Market.
Unlike the rest of the district, it was not drenched in gaudy lights and nightlife.
Instead, it looked more like a large stable, with the distinctive scent of chocobos, a mixture of feed and feathers, filling the air.
Dozens of yellow, blue, and green chocobos strolled leisurely inside the pens, letting out cheerful “kweh, kweh” cries.
A man wearing a cowboy hat and a handlebar mustache leaned against the fence, staring at his chocobos with a worried expression.
This was Chocobo Sam.
“Hey, Sam!” Aerith greeted him warmly.
“Oh, it’s you, Aerith.” Sam looked up, and when he saw her, he forced out a smile.
“Not selling flowers today?
Decided to bring some friends to meet my babies instead?” His gaze swept over Cain and Tifa.
“We’re here to ask for your help,” Aerith said directly.
“We need a letter of recommendation from you to get to Don Corneo.” “A letter of recommendation?” Sam’s frown deepened.
“Ugh, I’m really not in the mood for that right now.
You see that?” He pointed to a fancy chocobo carriage not far away.
“That belongs to Scotch, one of Don Corneo’s men.
The bastard owes me a huge gambling debt, and now he wants to use his so-called ‘champion chocobo’ to pay it off.
But that bird looks sick as a dog.
How am I supposed to accept that?
Now they’re just squatting here and refusing to leave.
I can’t even do business.” Cain looked in the direction he pointed and saw several gaudily dressed thugs gathered around a carriage.
The tall, skinny one at the front was Scotch.
The chocobo harnessed to the carriage had dull feathers and dispirited eyes.
It certainly looked ill.
Seeing that lifeless chocobo, Cain frowned without realizing it.
He was naturally kindhearted, and he felt sympathy for small and innocent lives.
“So as long as we help you solve this problem, you’ll give us a letter of recommendation, right?” Aerith blinked and asked.
“Exactly!” Sam slapped his chest and promised, “If you can make Scotch and his whole gang disappear from my sight, carriage and all, I’ll give you ten letters of recommendation, never mind one!” “I’ll handle it,” Cain said calmly, then walked toward Scotch and his group.
His steps were steady and carried an unquestionable pressure.
“Wait, Cain!” Tifa was a little worried and wanted to follow him.
“Let him go,” Aerith said, holding her back.
“Our Mr.
Guardian has plenty of experience dealing with bullies who only pick on the weak.” Scotch and his men were gathered together, bragging among themselves.
When they saw Cain walking straight toward them, they immediately grew wary.
“Hey, punk, what are you staring at?
Never seen a champion chocobo carriage before?” Scotch said arrogantly.
Cain ignored him.
He walked straight up to the sickly chocobo, crouched down, and carefully inspected its legs and the harness connecting it to the carriage.
His movements were very gentle.
The chocobo, which had looked listless a moment ago, seemed to sense that he meant no harm and did not struggle.
“What are you doing?
Don’t touch my bird!” Scotch shouted, his voice fierce but hollow.
Cain stood up and swept a cold gaze over Scotch before turning his attention to the carriage wheel.
He walked over, stretched out his right hand, and felt around the axle of one of the wheels for a moment.
Click.
With a faint sound, he pried a tiny, nearly invisible metal device from the gap in the axle.
It was a precisely constructed miniature braking mechanism.
Once activated, it could greatly increase the resistance of the wheel without being noticed, making the chocobo work abnormally hard to move, which would make it look as if it were sick.
“What is…” Scotch’s expression changed instantly.
“To avoid paying your debts, you used a cheap trick like this.
You didn’t just deceive someone, you abused a life that can’t even speak for itself.” Cain’s voice was not loud, but the anger contained within it seemed to freeze the air.
“People like you are worse than trash.” Sam saw it from a distance as well.
Realization dawned on him, and he bristled with rage.
“Well, I’ll be damned!
Scotch, you bastard, you were trying to scam me with something like that!
No wonder your bird looked so worn out!” Seeing his scam exposed on the spot, Scotch’s face turned blue, then white.
Humiliated and furious, he glanced at the men beside him.
“Enough talk!
Get him!
Teach this nosy punk a lesson!” Several thugs swarmed forward.
Their fate was no different from the men in the Corneo Colosseum.
Cain did not even move his feet.
He merely waved his hand casually and sent all of the charging men crashing to the ground.
His movements were so fast that they were dizzying.
The thugs did not even see how he attacked before they were already lying on the floor, groaning in pain.
Scotch’s legs went weak with fear.
Looking at the man before him, who seemed like a demon god, he finally realized that he had provoked someone he should never have touched.
“Leave,” Cain said coldly.
“Yes!
Yes!
We’re leaving right now!” Scotch reacted as if he had been granted a pardon.
Scrambling and crawling, he led his men away with the carriage that had just had its trick exposed, fleeing Sam’s Delivery Service in disgrace.
“That was amazing!” Sam ran over excitedly and slapped Cain hard on the shoulder.
“Brother, you really helped me out big-time!
Chocobo Sam is a man of his word.
Here’s my letter of recommendation!” He cheerfully stuffed a letter into Cain’s hand.
“Thank you,” Cain said, accepting it.
“Don’t thank me.
I should be thanking you!” Sam laughed heartily, then walked to the chocobo that had been tampered with and affectionately stroked its feathers.
“Poor baby.
You had a rough time, didn’t you?
To thank you all, I’ll let my Betsy give you a ride!” He unhitched a spirited yellow chocobo and gestured for the three of them to ride in its carriage.
“Perfect!
We were getting tired of walking anyway.” Aerith happily jumped into the carriage first.
Tifa followed and sat down as well.
Cain hesitated for a moment, then sat in the driver’s seat.
“Kweh!” Betsy the chocobo let out a cheerful cry and pulled the carriage smoothly through the streets of Wall Market.
The afterglow of the setting sun spilled down through the gaps in the upper plate, coating the chaotic city in a warm layer of gold.
The carriage rolled slowly onward, and the noise around them seemed to drift far away.
Aerith leaned back inside the carriage and looked at Cain’s broad, dependable back, a gentle smile on her lips.
Tifa watched him handle the chocobo with practiced ease, and countless emotions stirred in her heart.
He possessed such terrifying power, yet he also had this gentle and kind side.
Which one was the real him?
Perhaps both were.
“Cain,” Aerith suddenly said, “you’re amazing.
You can do everything.” “I’ve just been lucky,” Cain answered calmly.
“Really?
Then… what about dancing?” Aerith asked playfully.
Cain’s body visibly stiffened.
“No,” he answered dryly.
“That won’t do.” Aerith smiled like a little fox.
“The place we’re going next requires a little bit of artistic talent.
Mr.
Bodyguard, it looks like you’re about to face a brand-new challenge.” Her words made Cain feel a sense of foreboding even stronger than what he had felt when facing the Hell House.