The air in the court garden was thick with perfume and poison.
Jungho knelt on the grass, forced into a "comic" pose for the amusement of Lord Dervan, one of the King's louder sycophants. Dervan was the kind of man who enjoyed stepping on ants—especially ones who couldn't fight back.
"Look at him!" Dervan jeered. "The fool's costume suits him, but does he know how to bark?"
The crowd chuckled.
Jungho barked once—high-pitched, mocking, with just the right amount of dramatic flair. Laughter followed. Dervan threw him a silver coin.
"Catch, dog."
Jungho caught it in his mouth.
The nobles howled.
He stood slowly, blinking against the sun.
[EXP Gained: +6]
His smile widened. It wasn't real.
But something inside him snapped.
That night, Jungho prepared.
He'd learned the court's habits. Where nobles drank too much. Which paths the guards ignored. Which pranks were considered "acceptable" for a jester to play.
And more importantly, he'd begun to understand something about his class: the System didn't forbid violence. It only demanded that it be funny.
[Passive Skill Updated: Slapstick Recoil II]
Comedic attacks are 20% more effective. Bonus effects applied if target is publicly humiliated.
He waited until Dervan returned to the banquet hall the next evening. The noble was already two goblets deep, boasting loudly about hunting tigers from horseback.
Jungho approached from behind, bells jingling.
"Ah, our loyal jester," Dervan sneered. "Come to entertain us with another fall?"
"No, my lord," Jungho said, bowing. "Tonight, I shall perform... the Slapping Mask."
"What's that?"
"A solo routine. With audience participation."
Laughter.
Jungho reached into his oversized sleeve and pulled out a cream pie.
The crowd leaned in.
"Allow me to demonstrate."
He bowed.
Then turned.
And slammed the pie into Dervan's face.
Silence.
The pie dripped. Cream oozed down the noble's silk robes.
Dervan blinked.
"You—"
Jungho stepped in, twisting the noble's foot subtly with his own.
Dervan stumbled. His foot caught on the rug. He fell face-first into the central banquet table.
Cups spilled. Platters clattered. Soup flew.
Someone snorted.
Then laughter erupted.
Not at the fool.
At Dervan.
Jungho bowed deeply.
[EXP Gained: +72]
[Status Effect Applied: Embarrassed Noble - Dervan (Disgraced)][Skill Progression: Fool's Masquerade - 26%]
The King didn't speak.
But he chuckled.
"Delightful," he muttered. "Make sure he's there tomorrow."
Jungho turned to go. The nobles were still laughing.
But not all of them.
Princess Arin simply watched.
And behind a tapestry, a figure with amber eyes narrowed.
They had come too late.
They saw the pie. The fall. The crowd's reaction.
But they hadn't seen the twist of the foot. The timing. The calculation.
Jungho hadn't entertained.
He had retaliated.
And made it look like a joke.
That night, Jungho returned to his quarters.
A note awaited him on the cracked mirror.
Not handwritten. Etched into the glass itself.
"Real clowns wear knives behind their backs."