So Calista played the role of a clown. Was it because she had been a clown in her past life? Was he trying to help her understand her past?
Kallum abruptly halted in his tracks, his heart throbbing incessantly. The suffocating feeling was a result of his speculations.
Even if Callie had worked in an amusement park in her previous life, she didn't know magic or acrobatics. She wasn't disabled, so she couldn't rely on sympathy drawn from a disability or earn money by selling candy. She couldn't even show her face. So even if she had dressed up as a clown, how was she supposed to make money?
Unexpectedly, Kallum turned around, sprinting toward a spot he had previously run past.
In the midst of a vast sandy expanse stood a solitary figure surrounded by a throng of people. Each of them held a variety of colorful paint packets in their hands, which they then hurled unmercifully at the lone individual in the sand.
This was a place for venting emotions, where the price of a packet of paint ranged from a few bucks to twenty. Yet, it was capable of leaving vivid, colorful marks on anyone in the sandbox.
Moreover, the sensation of pain differed with each packet of pigment that struck the body, providing a sort of sadistic pleasure.
People could hide in the sand, but under the relentless assault of the crowd, layers upon layers of paint accumulated on her body. Her face, adorned with the makeup of a clown, wore a fixed smile. This created the illusion that no matter how much she was hit, she was always smiling. This only fueled the dissatisfaction of the spectators, who purchased even harder paint packets to throw at her.
Moreover, the individual in the desert remained silent regardless of how much she was pummeled. She stumbled several times, yet she simply stood back up and continued to evade, further igniting the challenger's desire to provoke. A myriad of colors exploded around her, and her clown-like smile was truly iconic, her eyes outshining even the stars.
“Hey handsome, interested in joining the justice alliance to drive away the wicked clown? I've got a variety of weapons here. Ink packets hurt the most, but they're also the most expensive! Twenty-one in total. I also have paint packets, and colored water packets, all at different prices. Do you want to give it a try? It's really fun!”
The stall owner, sporting clown makeup, was cheerfully pitching his wares to Kallum.
Kallum was jolted awake by his voice. In a sudden fit of madness, he pushed through the crowd and dashed toward the sandy ground.
“Huh? What are you—” The boss' words were abruptly cut off as Quintus covered his mouth. Members of the Fairchild family appeared one after another, intervening to prevent the so-called “justice fighters” from inflicting harm. There was a wave of discontent, but Kallum simply didn't care anymore.
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