After a while, Jacopo said, "Oh, it's time! Then disrespect," I couldn't stop thinking.
(The question is, what story do you sing and dance to...)
The plan to show Marielle the 'dance opera' I suggested, what needs to be done is somewhat manageable. However, it has not been decided what should be done.
It's easy to tell with Boy Meats Girl even as a story, the tale "Fairy of Love" where dancing comes out in the play?
Or 'Carmen', the story of a woman who craved freedom by the time she was passionate?
No, or the opera Waltz in Opera, which was described as a masterpiece in "fantasy tale"?
(No, I'd rather not recreate the script for this girlfriend Marielle)
I was thinking about it with a difficult face, and I heard a voice downstairs calling me "Um".
"Your husband? Does it hurt even in your stomach?
"Hmm, Nell... No, I'm not"
"Really..."
Finally, she let go of her hand from her waist, and she broke that cheeky, cheeky cheek and said, "It's good to tell…" alone.
"Oh, tell the story... yes"
"Steering, is it? I see! The story is steering!
"Nell, can I have a word?"
Just one idea in me, a slightly floated idea.
That's too much of a beating, so I want to be able to steer. But I'm sure I'll be the one who likes stories.
"Why don't you make a story with me?
"... Huh?
I went on to explain to her that my eyes were black and white.
"Yes. Make a story. You know the story about that captain, Mr. Jacopo, testing whether or not to hire Mr. Marielle?
"Uh, that, yes"
"So I have to think of a short script to sell her charm"
Once in a while. Nell is urging the continuation of "that is,"
"Her charm… yes, dancing and desire to avenge the world with emotion"
……
"Nell, honestly, I don't have coverage for whether I can incorporate your ideas. But if there's anything glowing in your idea, I'd definitely like to incorporate it. What do you say?"
……
Nell let his eyes hang for a little while and whined quietly as he did.
"I'm retarded..."
"The terrain is good. I'm sure I'll keep getting smarter and smarter. It's a little dodgy, but I'm sure it'll go away as we grow up."
"... I'm going to ask Uffi"
"Right."
To look at the psychological graph in her appraisal skills, she was putting her expectations and anxieties to rest. That means there was something in her that made me want to try a little script.
(I hope this works positive. It's a dry story in the first place, but I don't expect much from Nell's power. Whether the story I make impresses Nell (...) or not (...), it's like I got involved to know)
I thought of that as I saw Nell's back rushing over to Uffi.
Yes, I don't want that kind of talent from Nell, who doesn't have a god of literature or anything. It was just that she was so obsessed with the story that she wanted to use it.
Nell said, "Uffi, can I just have a minute?" I saw him talking to Uffi.
Yufi and I meet eye to eye. I feel stunned by my clean eyes.
That's fine, I think. I'm sure this is where Yuffi wants to accuse me, thinking.
(With that said, Nell and Lutz are both listening to Marielle yesterday)
Well, I took a look at Lutz cutting up the stall now. Rutz, who is sweating but wiping sweat with a cloth and cooking meat one after the other by himself, now looks pretty full.
Inspiring revenge on the world. There are no signs of that in Lutz.
(... why don't you ask later? His opinion is going to be quite helpful too)
As I thought about it, I left behind saying, "Well, I'm going to a slave city in Oasis Street," for my own business, and I followed the scene.
Yes, because I have a job as a slave trader.
Slave City.
A large slave trade company coming to Oasis Street sells slaves in the open air at the same time. The sight is terribly otherworldly, with something unexpectedly eye-catching.
(Spectacular. When you actually see something like this, the emotions people feel are definitely surprising)
Demons lowering the tag "Combat Slave" from their necks in a naked appearance.
An obviously undernourished figure yet a Puppet who is only well made to stand out with makeup.
A beast man with scratches and some of his body's hair balding.
None of this is a poisonous sight that can be seen in modern Japan.
(I don't praise the situation that juxtaposes slaves in this way, but I'm as ironically impressed as a kind of contemporary art)
It is a certain shock that so many people, all of them alive, are slaves.
Looking at the sight, I finally understand what my job is.
I am a slave trader.
They are treated as commodities in this world. Ironically, awareness of human rights has not spread strongly in this world.
At the same time, however, there is not much (...) happening to the terrible use of human resources, as can be expected as a cheesy slave statue. It is the view of the kingdom of grace that the problem of slavery is often in the way its master is made, not its system.
I am not strongly opposed to slavery in that. Without all that power, there's no temper to face it.
At the same time, I am not strongly in favour of slavery.
The point is, if you go into town, follow the town.
(It's a matter of the way the mind is. It is the persecution of their hearts and their dignity that is evil. That's what ethics is all about)
"Excuse me, may I ask for an explanation about this one"
In my mind, I decided to do my job as a slave trader. Let's start with the job of finding potential people.
Caught one merchant appropriately and stepped toward the outhouse.
"Oh, this guy? Four gold coins..."
"So are you sure you want to close the deal?
It's better not to take this kind of procedure too long. Step straight into the people and use your appraisal skills to wrap up the business conversation.
I plan to buy about seven people today. The budget for this, thirty gold coins, is cheaper in view of the market for ordinary slaves. Naturally, my aim is not to buy luxury slaves, but to recruit cheaply priced slaves.
(... now seven)
Looking back at the slaves following me, I realized I was done with my work today.
At best, other merchants who could only look at the status made me buy a lot of skilled people. With as many as seven skilled slaves, 30 gold coins would not have helped.
When I'm feeling better about today's unexpected harvest, a name pops into my sight. The good thing about appraisal skills is that this is how you can detect crises -.
"... hey Cayenne!
Speaking up, the person in front of me broke my familiar face.
"What's the matter, sir! Make me look like a creep!
Cayenne with a full smile. The flamboyant appearance is also before this man, and what he took back.
Looked fine as far as I could tell. That was more than anything for me.
No, I was wondering why Cayenne was here.
"Oh, or"
"I can't say it out loud," Cayenne shrugged her shoulder.
We need to reinforce security around Oasis Street.
"Really?
"Oh,... it seems that 'Sky Flowers' has escaped"
Blurry cayenne.
(Oh, I thought it seemed thin, but seriously...) I thought.
Then the possibility that the array at the opera isn't a phantom unfolds inside, but there's nothing I can do about it if they tell me what to do.
My husband doesn't seem too surprised.
"No, no, no."
"That was the biggest news here from me...... okay. My husband has a liver."
I am deeply surprised. I'm surprised, but there may be more surprises here and my face may not move well.
He said to me, "But I've bought quite a few slaves. Wouldn't that snake bitch be mad at you again?," said Cayenne, skipping a joke.
Just fine. We have big news too.
I said, "No, Hetty has already accepted the purchase of this slave, and she has more than 50 gold coins to buy luxury slaves at the flea market than she used to.... than that," I stepped over to Cayenne.
"Hmm?"
"Big news, I got it too."
"Is that true, sir?... Ok, that's it! You're talking about those little ones starring in the opera only during the tabernacle of break, right? Arioshung told me!
"No, you're not."
"Oh, then that's it! Oak's slaves are selling delicious stir-fried meat! I'm eating early, but I don't have time to go inside..."
"No, it's bigger news"
"... I have no idea, seriously."
I told him with a bitter smile that he would laugh and say, "I'm telling you, if you found a woman or anything like that, I have more than my husband."
"Marielle was there"
……
When I told him that name, he went back to his true face and didn't talk about anything for a while.
"... not a slave, but now practicing opera in my tent"
"... Oh, oh! You mean that! I thought he had become a slave..."
Brighten his face just for a moment, and he goes back to his true face again.
The murmur "... I was just wondering if it was strange to be dead," he said, had been swept away during the hustle and noise. I'm sure only a person who knows Cayenne's past would be able to complement his feelings with speculation, a whine that included such a mood.