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Milana, probably for the hundredth time, bowed to the Jester, who was calmly drinking coffee, and muttered an apology. Even though quite a few days had passed since that incident, she was still ashamed. She had been so stupid to believe Harlequin, who was possibly joking about the Jester being a parent! It was lucky that the man had reacted calmly and accepted the gifts, but she still wanted to sink through the floor.
"Don't worry. I perfectly understand that this situation is not your fault. Harlequin very often… likes to play jokes on certain individuals, taking advantage of his, let's say, position."
The Jester finally said something after long minutes of apologies from the girl. He raised the cup to his lips and took a sip of coffee.
"If it makes you feel better about what happened, I can tell you that this is not the first such situation. For reasons unknown to me, rumors that I am a parental figure to my subordinates appear quite quickly. Of course, it's just lies and slander."
"Really?"
Milana asked, straightening up completely. The circus leader half-closed his eyes and nodded.
"Yes."
"So, why did you decide to fight again?"
The Jester asked calmly, crossing his arms. Pierrot and Harlequin, who had been fighting for their lives a minute ago, now had their hands shamefully behind their backs and, having stepped two paces away from each other, lowered their heads in shame.
"Just because some people can't take a joke, that's all."
Harlequin finally answered after a few minutes of silence. Pierrot looked at him with a murderous gaze, but the acrobat seemed not to notice.
"And what exactly was the joke?"
The Jester raised one eyebrow. Harlequin shrugged boredly.
"Oh, nothing special. Just a little spice in someone's food, that's all."
"A little?"
The circus leader repeated, causing the interlocutor to snort and turn away.
"Well, maybe the whole jar of very hot spices was used."
Here he chuckled softly and looked at Pierrot.
"But our dear clown perked up so well after my special dish."
Unable to take it anymore, Pierrot pulled out his blades from behind his back and lunged at Harlequin. He jumped away from the danger, continuing his disgusting laugh. They probably would have started fighting again if not for the Jester's raised hand, which stopped them. The man didn't intend to separate them again, wasting his precious time.
He sighed heavily and began slowly massaging his temples.
"Pierrot, Harlequin, how many times have I told you that you cannot fight each other. Harlequin."
The Jester said, turning to his subordinate, who froze, grimacing in displeasure.
"You cannot put anything in anyone's food. Firstly, it's not nice. Secondly, you don't know how the consumer will react to your additive. It could greatly damage the circus's reputation and your colleagues' health."
After this, he looked at Pierrot, who had already managed to lower his head in shame again.
"You cannot attack your own, Pierrot. Even if they have done something to you, you must first inform me so that I can assign a deserved punishment. You should not take justice into your own hands."
Having said this, the man thought for a few minutes, considering his next actions.
"Since you're done with training, and the performances won't start for a few more hours, I think you can help the Doctor clean his tent."
He said, causing Pierrot and Harlequin's eyes to widen in surprise as they stared at him.
"But…"
The two tried to object, but the Jester looked at them sternly.
"And this is not up for discussion. If you have the strength to fight, then you have the strength to clean."
"New scalpels?"
The Jester repeated, stopping filling out the necessary paperwork for the circus. He stared uncomprehendingly at the Doctor, who had come to his tent with such a strange request.
"Yes. Unfortunately, the current instruments have become unusable, so we need to buy new ones."
The doctor nodded, causing the man to involuntarily frown.
"If I remember correctly, this month we have already purchased instruments for many, including you."
"True, but…"
The Doctor tried to object, but the circus leader interrupted him, putting the paper on the table and crossing his arms.
"So, if I remember correctly, this month you have had only two experiments and one forced operation due to the attack on Pierrot. That means they couldn't have worn out unless you broke my ban and started catching those people for study."
The interlocutor said nothing in response, and his emotions were hard to read because of the mask. All he did was cross his arms. The Jester continued, shifting his gaze somewhere to the side.
"One could assume they could have broken, but in the set you received, each instrument had its own copy. The scalpels even had two. An involuntary question arises. What happened to you that all three scalpels broke?"
After this, he narrowed his eyes and looked at his subordinate.
"As a result, we have several possible scenarios for what happened. Either you broke my ban and conducted experiments on someone. Or some event occurred that everyone hid from me, causing the instruments to break. Or…"
The man fell silent, giving the Doctor a chance to finish the phrase. He didn't answer for a while, then, rummaging in his pocket, took out a printout, which he handed to the circus leader.
"This is a new type of scalpel. It is much sharper than ordinary ones. It can cut through all types of tissue in a few seconds. And it is made of a very light metal. And the shape. The shape! It fits perfectly in the hand."
The doctor enthusiastically began to talk about the new model of scalpels depicted on the sheet. In some places, he even pointed with his finger, explaining all the subtleties. The Jester only grimaced at this.
"Doctor, it differs from your current scalpels only in color."
He replied tiredly, but the Doctor only quickly shook his head, trying not to accidentally hit his interlocutor.
"No, no, this is definitely a new model!"
"Your current instruments perform their functions perfectly."
The circus leader said, beginning to massage his temples.
"But…"
"And you know the rules. Until a truly good reason appears, we won't buy anything new."
After this, he crossed his arms and looked sternly at the doctor, whose shoulders slumped sadly.
"So, until they break or are completely worn out, don't hope for new scalpels. Especially when the current ones work well."
The doctor sighed sadly, nodded, and turned to walk towards the exit. The Jester said calmly, picking up the papers on the table.
"And don't even think about breaking your scalpels. If I find out you did it, I will find your old instruments and make you use them until the funds for new ones appear."
The Jester yawned as he entered one of the trailers that was set up as a kitchen. He had spent the whole night filling out various permits for the circus to stay in the city and, unfortunately, hadn't gotten any sleep. Of course, he couldn't go to sleep because of the huge pile of work, but he could perk himself up a bit with coffee.
He took a small glass from the lower cabinets and placed it on the table. The man rinsed it under water, then put it in the coffee machine. Although this was undoubtedly a strange purchase, it was a very useful one. After all, circus performers often had to drink coffee because of their many responsibilities, and such a thing saved a lot of time. The Jester and the Ticket Taker especially loved it.
The circus leader quickly filled the reservoir with water, poured in the beans, pressed the button, and began to wait for his drink. Then the Ticket Taker slowly and yawning entered the trailer.
"Good morning."
He said, nodding slowly. Although the controller had just woken up, he looked as perfect as always.
"Good morning."
The Jester nodded, smiling. His interlocutor smiled back, adjusting his hair slightly.
"What a blessing that everyone fell asleep without any conflicts tonight. I didn't even have to ask the Doctor for sleeping pills."
The acrobat said, turning back to the coffee machine. The Ticket Taker nodded, sitting down at the table, trying to wake up completely as soon as possible.
"Although I heard strange noises in Harlequin's tent, but perhaps it's because of the not-so-comfortable conditions in this city. Even though it's summer, it's so cold here."
"I think in that case, we should buy him another heater. Considering how actively the locals are buying tickets, we can afford it."
The man replied, taking a full cup from the machine. Suddenly, shouts and curses were heard from outside the trailer. The Jester and the Ticket Taker were silent for a while, then both sighed heavily at the same time.
"They're awake."
The controller muttered, clutching his head. The circus leader only nodded at this, shaking his head.
"I'll go calm them down now."
The Ticket Taker said, rising from his chair, but the acrobat's hand stopped him. He placed the cup of coffee in front of him.
"No need. I'll handle it myself. You drink your coffee and wake up completely."
The Jester said, smiling at his interlocutor. He blinked in surprise.
"Are you sure? You poured it for yourself."
"I've already had coffee today. This is my second cup. So I'm already fully awake."
The man replied and, turning around, walked towards the exit of the trailer, preparing for the possible headache from yet another argument between the performers.
"There, there, it will all be over soon. The main thing is to look at me."
The Jester muttered, holding a crying Pierrot by the shoulder and pressing his almost detached arm to the cut site. It was well tied with one of the man's sleeves, which he had torn from his costume. The two of them sat on the ground near the Doctor's tent, who, seeing the actor's condition, immediately ran for the necessary instruments and equipment.
Some bastards had listened to the rumors and decided to get rid of the problem that was the circus themselves, ignoring the police's statements about the place's safety. They just decided to catch one of the "maniacs" and kill him! And perhaps Pierrot would have survived such an attack if one of the men hadn't had an axe! Moreover, judging by everything, it was very well sharpened, since it left such a serious wound.
It was nothing. The Jester would find them all. He would dig those creatures up from under the ground and watch very slowly and with pleasure as they die, choking on their own blood. He…
"It hurts…"
Came Pierrot's quiet voice as he pressed his face harder against the circus leader's neck, trying not to poke him too much with his horns. He exhaled quietly, stroking the victim's back a little faster.
"The Doctor will be here soon, and it will get easier. And don't look away from me, Pierrot, I told you."
The Jester replied just as quietly. Pierrot sniffled quietly and slowly, lethargically raised his gaze to his boss. The man squeezed his subordinate's arms a little tighter, trying to think of something.
"You know, I'm even glad that Harlequin left to hand out flyers. If he saw you in this state…"
The circus leader suddenly spoke, causing the victim to frown in displeasure and even hurt.
"He has received more serious injuries because of his own stupidity. Last time, he ended up at the Doctor's because he was hit on the head with a brick by one of the people. He almost cried then."
"Yes, but that wouldn't have stopped him from talking with a proud look about how he would have acted correctly in your situation."
The Jester said, and Pierrot, after thinking a little, snorted with laughter. The man breathed a sigh of relief and, smiling, moved his hand from his back to his interlocutor's head, stroking it slowly.
"If you want, when we catch those scoundrels, you can have their hands to eat?"
"Really?"
The performer asked, and his eyes seemed to light up. The circus leader nodded.
"Of course. All their hands."
He replied, and Pierrot sniffled one last time, smiled contentedly, baring a row of sharp teeth. The man only chuckled at this and smiled back at him with the same terrifying smile, glad that Pierrot was at least becoming himself again.
"I think it's just rumors aimed at defaming the circus's reputation."
The Jester finished his sentence, taking the last sip of coffee. Milana tilted her head in confusion.
"How does the information that you are a mo…"
The man immediately looked at her with an angry gaze, causing the girl to awkwardly clear her throat and quickly correct herself.
"That you are a parent, ruin the circus's reputation?"
"Oh, it's simple. How normal do you think it is for subordinates to consider their leader a father or mother?"
The café employee looked up thoughtfully, then back at her interlocutor, shrugging.
"I guess it's normal."
"Well. Not everyone shares that opinion. Many believe that if a boss is a parent to their employees, it means those employees behave like children or are terribly raised, forcing the boss to raise them. Who would want to watch a performance put on by grown-up children or performers who behave disgustingly?"
The Jester replied, then placed a couple of bills on the table, rising from his seat.
"I hope that after hearing this, you will not spread this situation and my employee's words to anyone. After all, I wouldn't want anyone to ruin my circus's reputation."
"No, of course not! I wasn't even thinking about that! Honestly, I would like you not to tell anyone about this either, because… well… I, to put it mildly, made a very serious mistake."
Milana said embarrassedly, putting her hand on her neck. The man only narrowed his eyes strangely at this and, turning around, walked towards the exit of the café.
"I'll think about it."
He said, then left the building, leaving the bewildered girl alone.