Desert Company: Retrospective

“So you’re threatening me?”

Kwazhak ruined the carefree atmosphere of the café with his words. They lingered in the air, killing the mood with fresh poison. Tsuchiya stayed silent, defending his response.

“I am not,” Kwazhak sighed, sipping his hot water. “I’m merely making sure there are no possible risks in this coöperative relationship.”

“You… After I brought one of your fighters to the apothecary… Transporting ya’ loved one’s bodies… I’ve been the most lenient as I could to the KWKK,” The man was beginning to be tipsy, switching into his local dialect.

“Thiệu would not hire a representative who would be swayed by his own prisoners. I’m aware that thou hast a family, however I did not question whether one truly cared for them.”

“You don’t trust me? Then did you ever ask me whether I liked my job?” Tsuchiya slammed his hand on the table, his eyes locked on to the prince’s. Kwazhak already knew the answer.

“I want thee to prove thy worth here and now,” Kwazhak ignored his question, while giving his own response. He held up a small portrait of Tsuchiya’s family, a picture of his wife and two daughters. But Tsuchiya himself was not in the picture. “I will send a message to the Laoyuang House ordering the assassination of these people. That is my condition.”

“Tasdaha closed its borders with the three nations ever since The Rebellion took wind. How do ya’- you expect a letter from here to reach As-Z̆onghu̐a?” Tsuchiya let out.

“One doesn’t know how L was capable of sending and receiving letters when the tensions between Azutami and As-Z̆onghu̐a were rising. If one truly loves their-”

“Okay, okay, I’ll compromise…” He submitted to him fast. Kwazhak knew because Tsuchiya’s intention to help them was genuine. However it wasn’t enough. “But you, Mr. Laoyuang… you oughta know the fine line between friendship and manipulation. Because no one will ever put their trust in you.”

“Trust? After what they did to Chiengg, I no longer trust the governments regarding wisdom,” The prince scoffed, calming down a bit.

“Chiengg? The dead scientist with his hypothesis?” Tsuchiya passed the sake to Kwazhak, which he openly accepted.

“Yes. Chiengg Wùwtua, the rising star in the new field of archaeology. By analyzing the genetic structure from seven hundred people across Yahmajô̗ Alą̧̄utl and comparing it to bones dating back to the Ragye scrolls… He came up with his controversial theory, the Chiengg Hypothesis,” He explained, before slowly taking a cupful of liquor.

“And because of that, a terrorist group captured and beheaded him and his entire family,” Tsuchiya affirmed, raising a glass. “That was broadcasted to the channels a few decades ago.”

“However, I have a suspicion that they were paid by one of the three governments; whether it be Buhang, Azu, or even my own. The reason why the Chiengg Hypothesis was censored so quickly… was regarding the origin of one the five Khoitan tribes, for it was blasphemous to the Yyvubian scriptures.”

“And what was that? Tch, everything now gets covered up so fast that only crumbs of the truth ever leak out in the media.”

“That is something that will be discussed later on, when we bring in a crucial someone to help us escape the tournament,” Kwazhak tisked at his question, setting down his cup.

“Huh. You’re different from any other Laoyuang I’ve seen on the holograms. I’ve always thought that the Laoyuang House was full of archaic-speaking lunatic aristocrats, why is that?”

“...” Kwazhak hesitated for a moment, bringing up an answer. “What one sees in the media is my most vocal relatives, however seldom they show my father.”

“I see… Propaganda is prevalent in this day and age. Better not be the bane of us all,” Tsuchiya sighed, standing up, “That’s enough drinking for a night. Thanks for paying.”

“My, I didn’t spend a thing for this bracelet,” Kwazhak decided he was going to head off as well, realizing that Tsuchiya had been let off the bill since he talked to a muqatil. As the employees bowed their heads, doing their obligatory gestures, Kwazhak walked out into the evening twilight. As the two men went their separate ways, the prince was stopped by a familiar figure. Covered in a dark gray hoodie, the boy lifted it off his head.

“Kwazhak…” Suruj called out for him on the sidewalk, as numerous buggies raced by the side of the road.