Chương 18: Chapter VI — Cherry Blossoms Draped in Glamour

Galan stepped onto the polished wooden balcony, the soft rustle of silk and the murmur of conversation filling the air. He scanned the room, noting the subtle choreography of high society. To his left, Roman dignitaries whispered in huddled tones. To his right, an elderly Greek man adjusted a younger woman's gown with gentle precision. He glanced at his admission slip. The Godlang text was clear, and the Japanese characters beneath it confirmed the location.

"Third floor, right side, fourth section, first seat. Guess I've improved quite a bit since I left Rome," he said with a smirk. He navigated past the pillars until he found his spot. The seats were plush, upholstered in silky red fabric, and were flanking a table adorned with a miniature tree and a black tablecloth embroidered with gold. Galan sank into the chair, the cushion yielding like the supple neck of a helpless maiden. He took in the view.

Below him to his right, a grand curtain stretched across the stage, a masterpiece of deep crimson fabric. It was embroidered with a massive cherry tree in gold thread, its petals cascading down to meet silver waves swirling at the hem. Ahead of it, the commoners filled the wooden benches of the first floor, their excitement palpable. And above, the elite settled into their velvet-lined boxes, curving along the walls in the shape of a grand horseshoe.

Among them, he spotted Sho and his family waving enthusiastically. The doctor's baby daughter drooled with excitement, swinging her arms, while her siblings jumped up and down. Galan waved back at them, a genuine smile on his face. But behind the smile was a hollow ache. He watched their innocent, unburdened joy, and for a moment, he tried to remember what that felt like. He couldn't.

After they stopped jumping, he turned to his left, where the skyfolk were settling into their suspended seats, held aloft by invisible crystal rods. Angels, fairies, and ten-gu mingled freely, their laughter whistling like wind chimes.

"Wow, looks just like the ones back home," Galan mused.

"They didn't cheap out at all."

"Excuse me," said the voice of an old Japanese man from behind him.

"Would it be alright if I sat here?" Galan turned, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, you did pay for the seat, didn't you?" The man blinked, then bowed slightly.

"Ah, yes... of course. My apologies for the intrusion." This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. As he slowly sat down, Galan studied the man. He was an older Japanese gentleman, dressed in a finely woven dark blue kimono with silver cranes embroidered on the silk. His face was lined with wisdom.

"Dear God, it's a pleasure to meet you," said the man.

"I am Kuwabara Masahiko."

"Pleasure to meet you too, Sir Masahiko," Galan replied, returning the bow.

"I'm Ga... Wa, Odagawa. But just call me Oda." Masahiko blinked, puzzled.

"Very well, Lord Oda." He glanced at the flower crown on Galan's head.

"That's a remarkable crown. Did you... perhaps receive it from a ten-gu on the way here?"

"Yeah. You went the same path I did?"

"Of course. But I took the elevator afterward."

"Understandable. It was quite the climb."

"If I were as young as you, Lord Oda, I would have done the climb as well."

"At least you're here now. I wouldn't blame you for aging so quickly." They shared a soft laugh.

"There's another thing I would like to ask," Masahiko said.

"Sure."

"When you were outside, why did you give away so many tickets?"

"Because the show's about to start," Galan said, glancing at the stage.

"I'd rather have people sit there and enjoy it than leave the seats empty."

"But how did you come across them?" Galan paused, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Want the real answer?"

"Oh, yes, definitely."

"I freed someone from their debt, but he couldn't handle the sudden change. He lost his mind, dropped a box full of tickets, and ran back to his family. So, I picked them up and gave them away." Masahiko nodded in disbelief.

"Well, you certainly are a generous man." Just then, a group of people approached their table. It was the beneficiaries of Galan's chaotic generosity—Kazue, the dragon chaser, and the Roman couple, along with many others. They knelt, expressing their gratitude in a chorus of languages.

"Thank you so much!" Kazue beamed.

"Thank you, Lord Placidus," the Roman man said in Latin.

"Please, there's no need for flattery," Galan said, waving a hand.

"I only wish for my people to enjoy themselves." He turned to the dragon chaser.

"Good job on catching up with the little dragon. It couldn't have been easy."

"No, it certainly wasn't," the man chuckled.

"Well then, everyone. Remember to enjoy the show, alright? Have fun!" Galan gave them a thumbs-up.

"Yes! We will!" As they dispersed, Galan leaned back, a moment of quiet satisfaction settling over him. And after relaxing for a while, he turned back to Masahiko.

"Hey, can I ask you something serious?"

"Of course, Lord Oda."

"I've been hearing reports of vengeful spirits luring people into the forests to kill them. Is that true?" Masahiko frowned, his expression growing somber.

"Yes... unfortunately. Many have vanished, and those who return are disfigured beyond recognition." He sharpened his gaze.

"I take it this matter concerns you?"

"Yeah. Multiple divine councils in Astanka are concerned," he explained, the weight of a distant continent in his voice.

"They asked me to come here to resolve the problem. But I've only just arrived, and I don't know where to start. Have any ideas?" Masahiko rested his chin on his hand, contemplating.

"If you seek answers, you should start with those who have seen these spirits and lived. Some are recovering in the hospitals on Central Island. The rest... are criminals who confessed their sins after facing the ghosts. They are either imprisoned or exiled." Before Galan could respond, a young attendant approached their table, bowing deeply.

"Excuse me, honored guests. May I offer you something to eat or drink? The first meal is included with your ticket."

"Oh, sure," Galan said.

"Give us the menu." She handed them the thick, textured paper menus.

"Please take your time." Galan flipped it open, scanning the options with a critical eye, already calculating the best value for his ticket.