Huan packed his bag and said goodbye to his father.
Lately, besides performing on the streets with the Shepherd's Theater Troupe, he had also been attending the Mixed Giant Beast Corps' Magic Shadow Drama training class twice a week.
The days of performing on the street were exhausting, but his spirits were much lighter. Back when they were in the theater, the audience was either nobles who spoke in circles or professional critics who could find fault in any detail.
Those critics were just gang thugs in suits. Any troupe that didn't pay their "protection fees" on time would be relentlessly attacked under high-sounding pretexts—one day it was discrimination against an actor, the next it was disrespect for some race's traditions…
Bullshit! It was all bullshit!
At least making a living on the streets was all about skill. If you performed poorly, no one watched. If you performed well, the money would come.
