Zarek stood in silence for a moment before looking to the side. Not far from him, about three meters or so, there was a relatively short alien. Honestly, he looked like a child carrying the head of an adult on his shoulders.
Normally, Zarek might think that this was some form of dwarfism, but the body proportions were off. It was well and truly the body of a child and didn't carry the same look as one might expect from a little person.
Instead, Zarek was a lot more inclined to believe that this was a five-year-old—if not for the fact he had stubble on his face and had a head that was about two times too big for his body.
There was a crown wrapped tightly around the boy-man's head, pulsing with a peculiar Godsfall Zarek had never sensed before.
Still, Zarek knew better than to try and use his Scouting Skill here.
"Hey there," Zarek said with a smile.
The boy-man looked at Zarek for a moment and raised an eyebrow.
"What do you want?"
"What? We can't be friends?"
Despite his demeanor, Zarek noticed something else. The words he was hearing and the movement of the man's lips weren't synced at all. This man wasn't speaking English at all. Yet, it was being seamlessly translated.
Zarek had seen this happen before in Dream Godsfall Tears sometimes. But once again… this really didn't feel like one.
For one, Zarek was playing himself right now, not the role of some other person.
"I have no interest in being friends with a competitor," he said coldly.
"Is that so? Well, just looking around here, I've noticed that there are quite a few people teaming up. They think they're being subtle about it, but them, them over there, them. I'd say a lot of these folks aren't very good actors."
Several eyes sharpened as Zarek casually pointed several times.
Every time he did so, he hit the nail on the head. It seemed that alien or not, everyone had similar enough mannerisms that they could be read.
Their gazes crossed too many times, their subtle nods toward one another weren't so subtle, and then there was the way some of them even had subtle streams of energy crossing between them—some of which Zarek picked up purely because they passed by him.
If not for Anato Codex, he wouldn't have picked up on it at all.
The boy-man's eyes flickered, but then he took a breath and shook his head.
"True as that may be, I have no interest in trusting my back to someone I don't know or trust."
"Fair enough. Then how about an information exchange instead? I just gave you some information, so how about you give me some?"
"Me? You just gave a bunch of people information, actually. You didn't exactly hide your words."
"Did I?" Zarek chuckled. "I only pointed out the most obvious ones. And…" Zarek took a step forward and whispered into the boy-man's ear. "…I also didn't point out the ones that seem to have quite some interest in you for some reason."
The heart of the boy-man skipped a beat, but he quickly regained his composure.
From what Zarek could tell, there wasn't a single simple person here at all. Whatever a "Hero" was couldn't have been anything short of quite a big deal.
"If you're sharp enough to pick them out, then you're also sharp enough to know that they will target you too. Unless, of course, you're on their side, in which case there's even less of a chance that I'll trust you."
Zarek smiled. "Talking to smart people from time to time is quite refreshing. Usually, it would just be my sexy girlfriend to keep me company, but she's quite mad at me right now, so I have to settle a bit."
The boy-man gave Zarek a weird glance. Why did it seem like this man was both so very serious and yet entirely unserious at the same time?
"What about what I said just now is positive for you?"
"Nothing much. But from what I can tell, you aren't their only target. Which means that if I suddenly point them out right now, they'll be very angry, don't you think?"
Zarek's meaning was clear. If the boy-man was their only target, then it would make sense for him to ingratiate himself with the latter. If Zarek was on the side of the boy-man's enemies, then at the right time he could flip the script and harm him.
But, if the boy-man wasn't the only target, and Zarek suddenly pointed them out, everyone would become wary of them—whether Zarek was telling the truth or not.
One way or another, Zarek would be making an enemy of people just for a little bit of information from the boy-man.
Before the boy-man could even reply, though, Zarek had already stretched out a finger.
"That ugly mug right over there."
Zarek pointed out a man with a jaw that looked chiseled into a perfect box, the line of his lips stretching so far into his cheeks that his mouth alone was probably three times longer and larger than it should have been.
Canines lined the sides of his cheeks, and as though that wasn't menacing enough, he stood at probably 2.5 meters tall, towering over most of those in the vessel's hall while hauling a battle axe with a polearm so long and thick it seemed almost like a pillar itself being dragged along his back.
The eyes of the man sharpened, a deathly intent locking onto Zarek.
"Oh, oh. I think he's angry now."
Zarek's antics got him a few giggles from women who shook their heads and looked away. They found him amusing, but it was also clear he carried with him the confidence of an expert.
Zarek didn't have an air of incompetence. He had one of assuredness. Maybe too much assuredness, but assuredness nonetheless.
The boy-man's eyes narrowed. "What do you want to know? I won't be telling you why they want me dead."
"That? I don't care about that. I just want to know what the hell sort of place I got dropped into."
The boy-man's lip twitched.
Everyone looked at Zarek incredulously.