Chapter 31: Chapter 30: Bets Are Placed
"Since you are so confident, then how about we make a bet?" Ian suggested.
"Oh? What bet?" Levi asked, intrigued.
"A bet between you and me on if he'll become friends with Chase and Rip."
"Chase and Rip? Who are they and what do they have anything to do with this?" Levi asked, confused at the mention of the two unfamiliar names.
Ian smiled, his light purple eyes flashing with mischief.
"Chase is that orange and yellow haired trainee we saw before and Rip is the son of our Butler Srca," Ian explained.
"Oh. Even so, what do these two have to do with Blake?"
"Both of them are rated the loyal type unlike Blake, so if Blake can form a friendship with them, it shows that he, like you said, has the makings of a loyal follower—at least, for a destined master. Who knows, he might have that past because he hasn't met the right one yet. Don't you think so too?" Ian tilted his head and asked innocently.
Levi laughed at Ian's attempt at acting innocent to make him concur, but he agreed with Ian's logic. Like attracts likes after all. No loyal people can like people who are disloyal.
"Alright. I agree with you. So how do you want to bet?"
Ian smirked. His innocent aura vanished and an evil, cunning air replaced it. "I bet that Chase and Rip will be repulsed by Blake initially, later they will become friends, but soon after, their friendship will break."
"..." Levi was puzzled by Ian's detailed description of his bet. It wasn't a simple "I bet they won't become friends" or "I bet they will become friends", it's more of a story of events that he predicts will happen. Levi's narrow eyes narrowed into lines in his doubt and puzzlement.
"...Then I bet that they will remain friends," Levi chose to bet on this line of words in the end.
Ian clapped his hands once and announced.
"Bets are placed! Now, we'll have to see who wins."
Ian smiled in eager anticipation.
In truth, Ian really was looking forward to the outcome of this bet. It turns out, Ian didn't have much faith in his bet being the winning bet, he only said as much because of what he said before.
'Destined master, huh?' Ian mused. 'If he has a destined master, that means his loyalty will only ever be given to his master and not anyone else, regardless of them being his friend or superior.' That was why Ian predicted that their friendship was doomed to not last if it could ever start.
However, it just might persist. After all, he and Levi were practically family, although not related by blood, and they won't ever betray each other, so their subordinates should most likely be on good terms and won't ever have to betray one another…
Well, who knows.
Will he lose or will Levi lose?
Everything was all up in the air. Anything can happen. Nothing is set in stone.
Ian very much looked forward to the outcome of the bet.
A week later.
Clink. Click. Clink.
The sounds of fragile porcelain touching porcelain echoed loudly in the silent room full of watching people.
A new trainee was currently doing a demonstration for the lesson they will be receiving today, which was nothing unusual. Sometimes the instructors would have a trainee come up, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, to give an idea of how the lesson for that subject will be taught to them that day.
The strange thing was, all the spectating trainees had their mouths wide open and their eyes popping out in shock.
For the first time in their life, they witnessed the birth of a genius.
From him, they understood what it meant to be called a prodigy. Naturally talented on their first try at what another person couldn't do even in their 100th attempt.
Staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the young boy of 10 walking back and forth in a complete straight line while his fluffy head of sky blue hair carried twenty expensive porcelain plates and one porcelain bowl at the very top, not to mention the ten plates on each of his two hands.
The young boy walked steadily forward with his head lifted up to the right height and not tilted downward, his shoulders squared and even, his hands and feet steady and not trembling. Every step he took, he took with calm confidence and poise.
He seemed to not be conscious at all of the pressure one would usually feel when doing such a task. Neither was he self-conscious, afraid that the plates and bowl would fall and becoming overly nervous and making a mistake accidentally as a result.
Even when turning around to walk back, not a single plate fell and smashed. He possessed complete control over his muscles, his core, and his balance. To say nothing of the confidence he had in himself that allowed him to excel even further.
He beamed with a smile on his face that made his blue eyes sparkle like gems as he walked in front of his fellow trainees and stopped there like the instructor had instructed. He would've taken a curtain call if it weren't for the plates on his head and in his hands.
"Thank you, trainee. You may take a seat." The instructor for this lesson, Instructor Mary, thanked Rip and had him take a seat with the rest of his trainees.
Instructor Mary helped Rip take the pile of clattering plates from his head and then Rip placed down the plates held in his hands before he went to take a seat next to the trainee with orange and yellow hair.
"Chase! How did I do?!" Rip asked energetically and sat down next to Chase with a spring in his step. His tone, however, did not indicate at all that he needed confirmation for his excellent performance just now. Like the little kid he was, he wanted to brag to his friends about his achievements.
And Chase knew this. He rolled his eyes, exasperated. This was not the first time Rip had asked him this question. Everytime Rip was picked by an instructor to do a class demonstration, he would come and ask him insincerely afterwards if he did well when he knew well that he did exceptionally well.
"Yes, you did great!" Chase smiled, praising him, and gave him a thumbs-up.
Rip beamed.
It has been a week since he started attending the special training that was meant for recruiting staff for the Everett household.
Initially reluctant and worried, his father Sling now no longer worried for his son but for the mental wellbeing of the other trainees. For his son seemed to know no difficulty or hardship, sailing through the special training like a beast in a jungle, a fish in water, a bird in the sky. Like he was in his natural habitat, he adapted to the lessons on the very first day he joined.
His outstanding performances produced with ease in every lesson the special training offered shocked the trainees to no end, scaring them witless with his exceptional abilities that knew no bounds.
Everytime the trainees learned something new, Rip was always the first one to get a handle on it and excel at it. He was the uncrowned number one in the special training program.
In this lesson, as always, Rip made his fellow trainee classmates wide-eyed in shock and stupefaction. It was a never ending cycle of new lessons, Rip aces it, shock, new lessons, Rip aces it, shock.
Shock.
Shock.
More shock.
Instructor Mary started instructing the class on the lesson activity, "Alright. Now that you have all seen how this is done, split up into pairs and have one of you balance one plate on your head while your partner observes to see if you can walk stably, with poise, and straightly along the line with the single plate on your head. And catch the plate you drop if they have the ability. When you drop and trash a plate, get another one and start it over until you can stably walk in a straight line to the end of the line without dropping your plate. Oh. By the way, if the plate falls and breaks, you pay for it."
"What? No way!"
"I can't afford those plates!"
"Urgh!"
"Can I pay in monthly installments?"
Loud complaints and discontentment arose in the crowd of trainees upon hearing the instructor's words.
Instructor Mary clicked her tongue, displeased with this group of dumb and ignorant and unruly, talentless trainees. "No need to worry your sorry little butts, the plates you'll be using are different from the ones trainee 132 just now used to demonstrate. They are made of cheap clay. However, they will still cost you a great deal if you break a lot of them, so make sure you balance yourself well and not shatter them." Instructor Mary then smiled very fakely and ordered the trainees to each get a plate and start.
Rip and Chase naturally partnered up.
Since the first day Rip joined, he had been rooming in the same dorm room as Chase, even his bed was right next to Chase's.
Each dorm room consisted of eight trainees. Three of the initial eight dorm mates of Chase quit so there was lots of room for Rip to move into. Chase did not care much for their departure nor did he miss them, he was not close with any of his dorm mates. To him, they were only temporary presences in his current stage of life.
However, that changed when he met Rip. Like his name, Rip literally ripped apart the door to his heart and entered it casually with an energetic radiance and instantly claimed them to be friends from now on.
Chase, "...???"
So from that day on, Rip basically stuck to his newly made friend, partnering up for lesson activities that required a partner and eating their meals together and occasionally making conversations naturally.
Eventually, Chase got so used to Rip's incessant and ever present presence that he felt comfortable and relaxed in his company.
Chase now also considered Rip to be his friend.
Rip easily completed his straight line walk. Since he can walk balanced and with poise despite the thirty plates and one bowl on him previously, he obviously aced it with just one plate.
While Chase had trouble with this exercise, though he performed much better than the rest of the trainees who constantly crashed and shattered countless plates causing cries of pain.
"Oops!" Once again, halfway through the straight line marked on the floor, the plate slipped from Chase's head and was caught by Chase's accurate eyesight and quick hands.
"Phew!" Chase breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't have to pay for the plate. Although it costs many times less than the porcelain plates that were on Rip's head, these clay plates still cost money and, currently, Chase was saving all that he could so he really didn't want to have this kind of unnecessary expenditure.
Having had enough, Rip stepped closer to Chase and began to point out his mistakes and advise him on what to do to make sure his posture looks good and the plate doesn't fall from his head.
Among the various things he was a natural at, Rip was apparently also a natural at teaching.
"...See? Like that the plate won't slide off your head," Rip said as he gestured to the stable plate on Chase's head that didn't move even as Chase reached past the halfway point where he usually found himself failing at. "And look, your movements look smooth and not stiff, unlike before. I can even spot a tii~iny bit of poise in your walk."
While saying his last sentence, Rip squeezed shut one eye, his other open eye showed his teasing intentions, as he stared at his pointer finger and thumb that were paralleled to a small distance between them to gesticulate how tiny that "tiny bit" he was talking about was, while he stuck his tongue out playfully.
The vein on Chase's forehead throbbed as he stiffly turned his neck, careful not to let the plate fall, and smiled forcefully at Rip.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny. Let me concentrate," Chase hatefully spat out through his clenched teeth. Affected by his extreme emotions, his orange and yellow hair burned bright like flames, fuming. He turned his head back to facing forward and aimed to finish walking the straight line and get this activity over and done with.
"Hahaha!" Rip laughed aloud as he clutched his stomach. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. You are great at balancing dishes with food in them, so how come when they are empty, you suck at it?"
Chase retorted, "Not with my head! I balanced them with my hands!"
Rip smiled and blew him off, "Yes, yes. I know. But you balanced heavy and full plates of food with one hand, not two. That's really hard to do without spilling it or being overly conscious of one side and accidentally ignoring the other." Rip was honest when he said this. He truly felt this was the case, especially when there was proof backing him up.
None of the other trainees—besides him—can do what Chase did with a full dish each in one hand. Sometimes, even with his head when it's urgent and he had no more hands free to use.
Rip, "Just think of that empty plate as a dish that you will be serving to the table. Imagine it."
Chase took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Like Rip suggested, Chase imagined himself taking a dish full of delicious food prepared for others to eat and enjoy, but instead of holding it with his hand, he placed it onto the top of his head.
Chase took one step. Then another. Then another yet again.
Until finally, he opened his eyes and found himself standing at the end of the line marked on the floor.
"Great! You did it!" Rip cheered as he hugged Chase. "And with such grace and calmness in your steps!"
"Whoa!" Chase hurriedly caught the plate that nearly smashed into pieces on the floor due to the sudden jerk of his body.
His heart racing, Chase didn't even get to enjoy the exhilaration that appeared due to his success when a wave of panic and terror washed over him when the plate nearly broke.
"Good thing I don't have to pay for it," Chase muttered to himself in relief as he relaxed his tense body and brain.
While Rip, clinging to Chase, was rambling on with his opinions on how Chase did. Overall, he still had many dissatisfactions with Chase's performance despite the fact that the latter finally succeeded once after his many fruitless attempts.
"...Especially, you should open your eyes next time…" Rip suddenly noticed that Chase was not paying any attention at all to his words. Irritated, Rip tickled Chase's chin.
Chase instantly shuddered, his arms reflexively moved and threw whatever was in his hands up into the air.
The object flew high up and flipped several times in midair, took a drop, and instantly, with a loud noise, broke into hundreds of cheap clay pieces.
Rip, wide-eyed and guilty, "...Oops."
Chase, "..."
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