Pitbabe S2, Chapter 20 pg 2

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 20 pg 2

   “It’s true, but you don’t need to listen.”

   Liu laughed, her small hands reaching into her strawberry-shaped side bag before pulling something out.

   “Hold out your hand,” the researcher said in a calm voice. I didn’t quite get it but complied obediently, assuming she wanted to give me something.

   I extended my hand toward her. Liu gently held it, then wrapped a red braided string around my wrist, tying it neatly and beautifully. It felt like an elder performing a traditional wrist-tying ceremony, but I definitely couldn’t say that to Liu.

   “At least have some red on you,” the lab’s resident fortune-teller said flatly, her eyes scanning the braided string on my wrist with satisfaction, as if this had been bugging her since yesterday. “I don’t know if you feel better, but I do.”

   “Okay,” I chuckled, delighted by Liu’s bluntness. “If just a bit of red does the trick, it’s better than wearing red head-to-toe.”

   “Head-to-toe red would still be better than this all-black getup,” Liu said, eyeing me from head to toe, clearly unimpressed with my outfit. “You look like such a bad guy.”

   “But I like it.”

   “Like looking like a bad guy?”

   “Even if I wore all red, I’d still be a bad guy.”

   Liu scanned me again, tilting her head in serious thought before nodding in agreement.

   “True,” she said. “The real problem’s here.”

   The researcher pointed a finger, circling her own face to emphasize that the thing making me look the most like a bad guy was my face. I kind of agreed. Lately, every time I looked in the mirror, I thought I seemed less approachable. Back then, Babe used to say I had a welcoming face, like someone kind and not too bright, who invited people to mess around with.

   Guess it’s because I’ve grown up.

   “Thanks, Liu,” I said, smiling at my senior. I felt much calmer now; the chaos that had been messing with my senses earlier had dialed down. Even without using my “helper” like before, maybe because I’d gotten so used to Babe’s senses. And, not to pat myself on the back too much, but I think I control them better than Babe does. Maybe they just suit my body more. “For the lucky red string and for keeping me company. I’m doing a lot better now.”

   “Honestly, Chris told me to keep an eye on you,” Liu said. “He was scared you’d run off.”

   “Why would I run?” I laughed.

   “Who knows? If you got too anxious, you might change your mind.”

   “I won’t,” I said firmly. Just then, Liu’s phone screen lit up, Chris’s name flashing, probably a signal that it was time. “I’ve come this far. No turning back now.”

   “Good,” Liu replied, before answering the call.

   She spoke in a flat tone into the phone, turning to meet my eyes one last time.

   “Alright, I’m about to take the star of the show out.”

   The roar of the crowd was so loud I wanted to cover my ears. I figured even someone with normal senses would find this noise overwhelming, so it’s no wonder a weirdo like me, who perceives more than most, felt like my eardrums were about to burst. I glanced at Dr. Chris standing nearby, next to Jeff, who was saying something into a walkie-talkie. He looked at me for a few seconds before walking over, pulling a pair of earplugs from his jacket pocket, and quickly shoving them into my ears.

   “Better?” he asked. I nodded as my ears felt more at ease. Race tracks are usually this loud too, but maybe because the spectators are farther away there, the noise doesn’t hit as hard as it does now, with a huge crowd surrounding me.

   I scanned the area and instantly understood why Liu dodged my question about how many people showed up. At first, I thought the turnout was so small it was disheartening, and that’s why she didn’t answer. But now I realized it’s because the crowd was way bigger than expected—she avoided answering to keep me from feeling pressured or overly excited.

   This was an open space, an event lawn near a big downtown mall. It had patches of vibrant artificial grass, a paved area for activities, large trees all around, and decorative plants in pots of various sizes. There were also quirky mid-sized sculptures scattered throughout. A bit farther off was a wide concrete lot, mostly used for sports practice or skating, sometimes for festival market stalls. It was a versatile, well-equipped space.

   Honestly, I never thought we’d secure this location. For one, we didn’t have that kind of pull, and two, our event was risky since its purpose openly clashed with big-money interests. We’d faced plenty of pushback and censorship before, to the point where even posting on social media felt like waiting for a ban. So, getting to use a bustling city-center spot like this, with tons of foot traffic, was almost too good to be true. But last week, Dr. Chris made my dream come true by casually saying, “This is nothing we can’t handle.”

   I knew Dr. Chris had some connections, but pulling off this venue? Never crossed my mind. Looks like I’ll need to dig into his background more after this—hope he’s not some scary mafia type, or we’re in for trouble.

   “Hello, everyone.”

   Just a simple greeting, and the crowd erupted with enthusiastic cheers. In front of me were kids, students, adults, and seniors—an eclectic mix of all genders. Every pair of eyes was locked on me. The front row was only four or five steps away, while the back row was so far I couldn’t even make it out. The low stage didn’t help me see much better, but if I had to guess, the crowd probably filled the entire event lawn we’d reserved. I’d thought it’d be spacious enough for everyone to sit comfortably, but with this turnout, just standing without merging into the person next to you was a win.

   “Before I start, let me check—everyone doing okay? Can the back hear me?” Shouts from the rear confirmed they could hear me, which was a relief, knowing the sound system Phii Touch set up was effective enough. “Not too cramped, right?”

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