Casual Heroing, Chapter 234

SUITING UP?! 🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻

Next chapter comes out on January 26th!

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Chapter 234 – Dressing Up

"Who gave it to you?" Fulvia asks, still shocked from seeing a wizard hat made of Dragon leather.

I don't reply, just frown as I stare at my small bag of holding. I'm not in the mood to come up with a cryptic reply or worry about what the [Seamstress] thinks.

If Magister Mulligan has left this in my hands... is he okay? That's his hat.

But alas, it's hard to worry for too long when the plump old woman in front of me starts pulling at my sleeve, "Joey, are you there?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking about something," I smile in return.

"Joey," the woman's voice is strained, "you need to be more careful. You can't go around Amorium and—"

"Flaunt a Dragon leather hat that would make passing through normal doors pretty challenging? I agree, but for different reasons. I'm not sure Lucinda would agree to bear my children one day if she saw me go around looking like a lunatic."

Fulvia shoots me a worried look and sighs, "there's more rot in Amorium than you think, Joey. You... you should leave."

I turn to the [Seamstress] with a surprised expression.

"Leave? When we met, I promised you I'd help you figure out some new fabric. My friends are all here, Fulvia. I'm not in the mood to leave."

"Joey, you don't understand. There are people here who--"

"Oh, Fulvia," I interrupt her with a raised hand, "I do understand. But I'll tell you this."

I lean closer to the older woman, "someone might be after my skin, sure. And I swear, on my mother's grave, that the moment they come out of their little hiding place, I'll gut them."

...

I'm walking to the meeting point where everyone going to the party with me is supposed to gather. Indeed, we do have a place where it's convenient to get ready and changed.

And as I walk, I’m trying to see if I can solve all the riddles that have popped up during the day.

Magister Mulligan has gone AWOL, and I can't seem to reach him. I have his hat, which I understand to be a legendary artifact that has been booby-trapped to cause death in case a Dragon ever put their claws on it – which probably makes it not safe to try out at all.

Plus, I'd feel really weird about trying on the man's stuff.

There's also the new guy, Aemilianus. Urgh, he's quite good-looking too. Disgusting.

However, he seems to be an interesting person. Not only is he an [Archmage] of sorts, but he also said that the Royals were behind Plinius's death.

Oh, shoot. I should have asked who killed Appius, too.

I facepalm, having completely forgotten about the duel.

So much has happened since then. Heh, whatever. Let's try and focus on the stuff at hand.

I knock on the door at Truffles's lab, and soon, the door is opened by Stan.

"Joey," he smiles.

"Stanimal," I wink at the guy, immediately hearing the low growl of his dog right behind him. "Hi to you too, Grigio."

"It appears you've come with company," Stan smiles at me as I turn, confused.

"Oh, Lucinda," I notice the redhead with purple eyes smile at me and nod. "Do you have the dress? I need to get ready."

I nod and hand her the package Fulvia prepared. She runs inside and runs through one of the doors without even saying hi to me.

"Women and their preparations," I cough, looking at Stan, who ushers me in.

We reach the central lab, where several people are hanging out, including a few faces that I haven't seen in a while.

"Yo, Lucillus, Antoninus!" I go up to them and hug them. Antoninus hugs me back while Lucillus tries to step away from me, but he most definitely fails since I have an entire fighting class dedicated to spatial awareness and momentum manipulation.

"Joey," Lucillus clears his throat. "I am not fond of parties."

"It's going to be great," I smile at the tall, disgruntled Elf.

"I heard you cater the food," Antoninus says.

"To be fair, the [Princess] does. I was out all week dealing with some personal business."

Antoninus doesn't seem fazed by that, "so the food will still be good, right?"

I nod.

"How's your family doing?" I ask the big Elf.

"Mom is doing alright, thanks to you," he says, causing me a small pang of anxiety since Magister Mulligan, the one holding the disease at bay, has vanished. It will still take several weeks for her to experience the symptoms again, which means that I'll need to find out what happened to the old man.

"Good, good. Now, here you go," I take out two bags and put them in their hands. "This is a traditional thing we wear to parties where I come from. It's nothing too weird, but you'll definitely stand out."

I turn around and hand a similar package to Stan as well, "Fulvia's got your measures too, somehow."

"Good skills," Stan comments, examining the package with interest.

"Where's Truffles and—"

That's when I see that, in a corner of the lab behind some of the contraptions I had made for the blond [Alchemist], the skinny dude is currently talking to...

"Flavia?" I raise an eyebrow, seeing the woman being fussed over by Truffles's parents and walking over there.

Chrysantus and Tullia, Truffles's parents, are wearing extremely colorful dresses, with Tullia's one being actually less puffy than her husband’s, who looks like a troubadour from a Renaissance fair that had a liaison with Robin Hood and, therefore, adopted an all-green palette.

However, what's even more interesting is that they seem to have dressed up Flavia as well while their son still has his ordinary lab clothes on.

I'm about to deliver Truffles's package to him when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Huh—"

I turn to face a stunningly beautiful woman with pink hair, make-up, thick eyeliner on her eyelids, and an overall supermodel presence.

"Wow," I say, looking at Flaminia.

"You're too used to working with me," she smiles and gives me a small wink.

"I guess I am," I say, nodding at the blue dress hugging her body. "You look terrific. How many guys are you bringing to the party?"

"None," Flaminia says, twirling a pink curly lock over her shoulder, "I'm taking some time for myself. It's hard to find a good man in Amorium."

I get the feeling that her gaze lingers a moment too long on me, and I can feel the back of my throat dry out slightly.

Shush, Joey. Come on. You're bringing Lucinda to the ball!

"Alright," I clear my voice and point a thumb back toward the entrance. "I convinced Lucinda to come. You were right all along, you know? I don't think I told you. I'm sorry about all the grief I gave you for the Irene situation. You did act a bit crazy, but she was wayoff too."

"It's okay," Flaminia smiles again, her pink lipstick catching the light. "She's in the past. Look at the future now. Even Truffles has gotten himself a date."

We both look at the blond talking to Flavia with a frown, who's showing him a stack of papers with numbers all over it.

"Truffles doesn't miss," I nod, happy about the arrangement.

"I hope you don't either," Flaminia says, brushing off some dust from my shoulder. "Let me know if it doesn't work out with Lucinda, though. I'll always have your back, Joey. I'll be there for you. Always."

The sheer intensity of the situation almost makes me take a step back as Flaminia plants her eyes into mine and makes my heart skip a beat.

"Flam, please stop doing this," I say, uncomfortable.

"I'm not doing anything," she smiles. And even though I would have expected a sly smile, I can only see clear eyes and a firm face on her.

Oh.

...

I'm in a small room, changing. I'm probably the last one to get ready, but I just need to splash some water over my face and get into...

Well, my old suit.

I take it out from the package that Fulvia put it in and stare at it. I wore this black suit to my mother's funeral, and it's the only thing I still own from the time I was on Earth. If there's anything I want to wear at the first big party in Amorium, it's definitely a black-tie attire.

But before I dress, I sit on a chair and bring my hands together.

Hey ma', I think in my head, afraid that someone would [Scry] a personal conversation with my mother. It's been a minute, you know? I said I wouldn't come crying every time I was having a difficult time and that this relationship should work on the basis of something other than just desperation. So, I wanted to tell you that even though shit is tough, I've decided to behave more like Dad. He never really complained about how much work he had to do at any given time—I think I have been complaining too much. Sure, I've got some stuff to figure out, but...

I feel a little tear coming out of my eyes.

"I'm your son. I'll manage."

I get up, shrug off the sadness, and suit up.

It's time to roll, baby.