Chapter 291: Reckless Driving is Bad (Part 2)
“How about we build a circuit-style colosseum for racing purposes this time?”
“…What?”
A wry smile crept across Lloyd’s face as he made his suggestion.
Chief Chero Can was puzzled.
It was a bizarre suggestion.
A novel proposition.
“A colosseum? A circuit for racing? What on earth is that?”
“Simply put, I’m suggesting a stadium dedicated to speed competitions.”
“A stadium? For running competitions?”
“Yes.”
Lloyd nodded.
It was done.
The chieftain was intrigued.
He showed just enough curiosity.
When he responded like this, it was time to row harder.
Seizing the timing, Lloyd quickly continued.
“An utterly comfortable and completely safe place where everyone can watch the races. A place where you can dash to your heart’s content without any hindrance.”
“Hmm. A space dedicated to running, a stadium. Are you saying this could solve my worries?”
“Yes.”
“Why? How?”
The chieftain’s brow furrowed.
Lloyd, as if it was all too obvious, further reinforced his brazen facade.
“You mentioned it yourself, Chief. You’re worried about the young ones racing recklessly. Racing for proposals, getting intoxicated by speed and causing frequent accidents, big and small.”
“That’s right.”
“Yes, that’s why. It’s sad to see the bright future of these plains marred by the young dying or becoming disabled from these accidents. But what if the centaur youths could race all they want, but only within a dedicated stadium?”
“Hmm, so you’re saying the accidents would reduce if they only sprint full-force in a safe designated area. Is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“But there seems to be a flaw in that opinion.”
“What flaw do you see?”
“You know as well as I do that our kind has lived by sprinting anywhere they can. Even if we build a dedicated stadium, will they really only run there? No. They’ll still race anywhere, still burn with competitiveness, and run as they always have. We’re a kind who can’t stand seeing someone running ahead of them.”
“Yes, I’m aware. That’s why we need rules.”
“Rules?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of rules are you talking about?”
The chieftain’s eyes sharpened.
Lloyd answered as if it were a matter of course.
“Speed restrictions based on location.”
“Speed restrictions?”
“Yes. Simple restrictions. Do not run faster than a trot in village areas. Outside in the plains, you can run as you wish. Just follow that, and it should be enough.”
“But that’s also problematic.”
“What do you mean?”
“If unrestricted sprinting is allowed in the plains, then what’s the need for a dedicated racing stadium?”
“Yes, that might seem so. But there’s just one more rule we could set to solve that problem.”
“What rule?”
“To designate the circuit-style colosseum as the exclusive place for proposal races.”
“…Are you saying to hold races for proposals only in that place?”
“Yes, that’s an accurate summary.”
Good. He’s getting the point.
Now it’s time to unveil the core of his argument.
Lloyd’s tongue wagged even more vigorously.
“Proposal races are the most dangerous. Didn’t you do the same in your youth, Chief? Fueled by an incomparable competitiveness, blinded to everything else. You ran giving it your all, won, and successfully proposed.”
“Indeed. That’s true. That was exactly how it was when I proposed. I was ablaze with competitiveness unlike any usual day. I couldn’t see anything else. Thanks to running with all I had, I grabbed victory and succeeded in my proposal.”
“Exactly. That’s why it’s dangerous.”
That’s exactly it.
Lloyd thought.
‘It’s always been like that. Whether humans or centaurs, it’s all similar.’
The competition for proposals.
Naturally, running at such times would be more intense than any other.
If you think about situations where friction or disputes arise at bars, it’s a simple problem.
‘In Korea, too, I’ve often seen this. If there’s a dispute between tables with only men, usually, if it’s not a real troublemaker, they sort it out amicably. Most people don’t like pointless conflicts and feel uncomfortable. But there are exceptions.’
Especially when mixed tables are involved.
Or if girlfriends are present.
‘The likelihood of a fight escalating is significantly higher then.’
A typical male psychology kicks in.
Not wanting to look weak in front of his woman.
So, the probability of putting on airs (unnecessarily showing off) increases.
Less yielding.
Considering compromise as defeat.
And adopting a more aggressive stance.
As a result, the atmosphere turns even more hostile.
‘It’s really childish and funny. Afterward, they wonder why they did such crazy things.’
Indeed, such situations did occur more often than not.
At least, from what Lloyd remembered.
‘Smartly handling such situations and maintaining rationality—that’s what truly makes a cool guy. But that’s not always easy. So, how about the centaurs here? Similar, probably. The novel Ironblood Knight mentioned it. Their proposal races are more aggressive than any other time.’
He recalled a passage from the novel.
A brief description of the centaur race.
A race that loved speed and rushing.
When they switch into competition mode for proposals?
They run more recklessly than ever.
To win.
To be with the mate they desire.
Often risking their lives in the process.
‘It makes sense when you think about it. If I were a centaur and there was a girl I liked. I want to date and marry her. But what? There’s a competitor? If I run faster than that guy, I can date and marry the girl? Then? Of course, I’d run like mad. Without looking back. Just trying to win.’
Determined to run.
By any means necessary.
Not caring about the place or anything else.
Just looking ahead and running wildly.
Putting himself and those around him in more danger.
“So that’s why. The races for proposals are particularly wild and reckless. We need a separate space just for that. A circuit-style colosseum, that is.”
“Does that mean accidents caused by reckless driving would decrease?”
“Yes. I believe so. The ones risking their lives would be competing in a separate space.”
It made sense.
Just like in modern societies like South Korea.
There was a reason why roads were divided into regular roads and highways.
‘Especially such extreme examples like in Germany. The Autobahn. A speed-unlimited road designed explicitly for running.’
Or even in South Korea, like the dedicated circuits in places like Inje, Gangwon Province.
Perhaps the chieftain had grasped some of this idea.
The creases on his brow deepened.
“Alright. I get your point. If we’re to summarize, you’re suggesting we divide the areas by their running purposes. And that’s why you want to create a circuit-style colosseum.”
“Yes, exactly. In the villages, only trot at a slow pace, clippity-clop, clippity-clop. Outside in the grasslands, whether it’s a trot, canter, or gallop, it’s free. But the most intense proposal races must be held only in the colosseum.”
“Good. If everyone practices this opinion, it’s likely that unfortunate accidents will decrease.”
“That would be the case, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it would. However… Will our kind really follow and practice this opinion?”
The chieftain looked this way, his gaze laden with significance.
“I like your idea. It has a noble intention. But I don’t think it’s realistic. So here’s the thing. Our kind naturally loves to run anywhere. Will we willingly accept such restrictive rules? No. I don’t think so.”
“Everyone would choose running over safety, you mean.”
“That’s right.”
The chieftain nodded.
“Our desire to run. Our longing for speed. Humans probably can’t fully understand that. We are such a race. If we can’t run, we might as well die.”
“Hmm.”
“And you’re suggesting we designate areas where we can’t freely race for safety? Especially banning impromptu proposal races anywhere? I doubt any young centaur would follow that rule. Everyone would scoff and resist, or outright ignore it. Our instinctual desire for running and speed is just that intense and fiery.”
“Hmm.”
“And this is also an issue related to our traditions. From the time of our earliest ancestors, we’ve lived freely running across this land. So this is about tradition. Your opinion is practically a call to change that tradition.”
“Hmm.”
“So that’s why. I like your opinion. But I don’t have the confidence to convince the tribespeople to accept it. They’ll all resist, because there’s no reason for them to comply.”
“Hmm.”
“…But you, you’ve been looking at me with that strange gaze since a while ago?”
“Oh, yes. I guess I’m feeling like I’m facing a group of street racers making passionate excuses.”
“Street racers?”
“Yes, roughly those kind of people.”
Lloyd chuckled wryly.
He couldn’t help but smile bitterly.
‘It’s like saying, we’re free spirits, so don’t care if we die running.’
That seemed to be the sentiment of the centaur race as the chieftain had explained.
‘Well, for those who consider speeding tickets a badge of honor, that says it all.’
Congenital speeders.
Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have been too concerned about their reckless driving leading to injuries or death.
But not this time.
‘If I make the safety measures, then the chieftain will tell me where Taupo is. So, whether they are congenital speeders or whatever, I need to make them safe.’
Lloyd made up his mind.
To safely secure (?) the centaur race.
And he calculated.
Quickly estimating the cost.
The activities he would undertake from now on.
The reactions and responses of these people.
Building up the big picture and the final product step by step.
Having finished estimating everything and measuring the angles, he looked the chieftain straight in the eye.
“Then how about this. If you don’t have the confidence to convince the tribespeople, I’ll do it for you.”
“You? Convince?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“That’s not your concern. Just one question: if my suggestion works, and the tribespeople follow it, building the colosseum in the process, will you tell me where Taupo is?”
It was time to push forward.
He asked with resolute confidence.
Fortunately, the chieftain didn’t take long to deliberate.
“Alright. If your persuasion succeeds and the tribespeople follow the rules…”
“Great. Then let’s start with this.”
Flap!
Lloyd quickly took out a piece of paper from his bosom as soon as the chieftain nodded.
Like a spider sensing prey caught in its web.
Or a python spotting today’s catch.
He didn’t give the chieftain a moment to react and handed him the paper.
“This is to write down the verbal agreement we just made. Let’s write two conditional contracts, one for you and one for me.”
“…A contract? Conditional?”
“Yes.”
He smiled brightly.
He spoke calmly.
“It’s better to be sure about such things, isn’t it? Oh, and just to clarify, it’s not that I don’t trust you, Chief. Quite the opposite, in fact. Just in case I might speak against you later, right? Let’s build a healthy and constructive trust relationship that strengthens mutual faith and extends to even our distant relatives.”
…Gulp.
Am I facing a con artist?
The chieftain, who had lived simply on the great plains, couldn’t help but think that.
But regardless of his anxiety, Lloyd’s drafting of the informal contract proceeded with the speed of light.
“Yes, write your name here. And the date. And sign here. Good. Now, just stamp your seal here.”
…
“Wow, you even managed to stamp it perfectly within the box. Maybe making contracts really does reveal one’s personality. From your seal style, it’s clear you’re usually thoughtful and meticulous, yet generous, with overflowing consideration for others around you, popular with all ages and genders.”
“Is, is that so?”
“Yes. I know it’s a bit embarrassing to say, but I do have a reliable eye for people.”
“Hmm! Ahem! Now that you mention it, your words don’t seem off. Hahaha.”
“Right? I knew I saw you right, Chief.”
“Hahaha, thank you!”
“Yes, then I’ll take my leave now. I’ll return after persuading the tribe members.”
Lloyd stood up with a broad smile.
The contract was stamped, so it was done.
He left quickly before the warm atmosphere could change.
As he exited the chieftain’s stables, Javier was waiting outside.
“Have you finished talking?”
“Yeah. You heard most of it, right?”
“Yes.”
As they walked side by side.
Javier cocked his head.
“So I really don’t understand. A circuit-style colosseum? And making them follow safety rules?”
“Why? Is it strange?”
“Yes. It’s strange.”
“What about it?”
“From my point of view, no one will follow those rules.”
“Yeah, they probably won’t.”
…
Javier poked at Lloyd’s side with a strange look.
Eventually, he asked.
“You say they probably won’t. It sounds like you’ve predicted everything.”
“Yeah. I did.”
It was true.
Even when proposing the construction of the circuit-style colosseum.
And while explaining the safety rules early on.
Lloyd had already considered how the centaur race would react.
“Then you must have a clever plan in mind.”
“Yeah.”
“May I ask what that plan is?”
“Yeah. It’s fine. I’m going to launch a safe driving campaign that will provoke everyone.”
“…Provoke, you say?”
Javier was puzzled.
Lloyd explained cheerfully.
“Simply put, I’m going to make everyone really pissed off.”