Chapter 387. Clown’s New Friends
Inside a massive room that looked like it was stitched entirely from fabric, the walls swayed gently with the breeze, as if the whole chamber was breathing.
Lanterns hung overhead, glowing in shifting hues, casting playful shadows across the space.
At the center of the room stood a long, grand dining table carved from dark driftwood, polished smooth and engraved with carnival symbols—stars, masks, and animals frozen mid-performance.
An extravagant feast was laid out across its length. Towering platters of seafood dominated the table: golden-fried leviathan rings, grilled sea serpent tail, butter-drenched lobster, rainbow clams still steaming from the pot, and spiral shells filled with spiced crab meat.
The food was served by a procession of stunning women clad only in shimmering veils of colorful silk that barely covered their bodies, accentuating their every movement.
They danced with each step, placing the dishes delicately and bowing with grace. After them came handsome men with strong builds and confident strides, carrying massive barrels of exotic wine and rare alcohol.
Their attire was just as minimal—only bright-colored sashes wrapped around their waists and tribal body paint covering their torsos.
Once the barrels were placed in position, the men departed silently. The women, however, remained, lined up gracefully behind the table. They waited for a signal.
The signal came from the figure seated at the head of the table—the Clown.
He didn’t sit like a noble or even a proper host. No, he crouched on the chair in a squat, his knees bent, arms resting on them like a mischievous monkey king.
His face was painted in stark white, with deep red smears for lips and a star around one eye. His wild, frizzy hair was a mess of orange and pink, topped with a tiny tilted hat. His eyes gleamed with a strange light—somewhere between madness and curiosity.