Demon Lord's Reincarnation

Chapter 884: Academy's Got Talent - Wood

As much as I would've wanted to hit the road for a good while, our next stop was only a 15-minute drive. It was toward my old school, The Three Angels' Message University—someplace where I had a lot of good and bad memories from the three and a half years I was there. So all in all, it was a well-balanced part of my life.

On that note, actually cucking Lopez was just a side quest while the main ones were to actually find out what was up and somehow form more connections with people that were surviving the end of the world—and possibly see old friends other than Ken.

It's not like I would be able to fuse or summon something powerful from forming these connections but what I learned late in my life was that social connections were just as important as actual skills to move up in life.

'Either of the two could be used to achieve one's goals but having both in one's arsenal was like~ me—you know, in an apocalypse setting and yes, I fucking said it [insert laughing emojis or the good 'ol XD]—not because I couldn't think of a more fitting example… fuck it, I couldn't think of a better example and I'm not going through anything right now… Yep, that's it… totally…'

In any case, #1 and #2 had already prepared the table and the seating arrangement, and surprisingly enough, Major Perez popped up with a few officers to watch the show. Jesus and his crew also found their way to us along with Jose and Isaac though I haven't caught a glimpse of Lopez and The General in the open aside from the short moment in the cafeteria.

Major Perez and I shared a short conversation before the Academy's Got Talent began and the first contestant who came up was a guy I saw who was eating at the same table as JP last time, and he briefly introduced himself.

"My name's Ryan Crisanto. I'm 19 years old, I was born and raised in Puting Kahoy, and I'm #8 on the board for the number of confirmed zombie kills—a total of 1,455—though the number should've been much higher if I wasn't assigned to a leadership/management position.

I prefer to be up close and personal in regard to dealing with the dead and my talent is that I could hold my breath for more than five minutes…"

As this Ryan dude was speaking on and on, sad music slowly welled up from behind us and his "brief" intro was turning into a sob story that could easily hook the sheeple or normies that watched these talent shows.

And funnily enough, #1 and #2 were the fucking perpetrators but Major Perez and the officers he had with him were fucking eating it up. And from our side, Quinn was this close to either beating up the contestant or the two producers but I started losing my shit when this Ryan dude started Fortnite dancing.

He did fucking everything.

And not only that, the motherfucker had a pre-recording that said that he also wished to be a part of that dance crew wearing masks, and this was his only time to somehow get an audition out. I tried my fucking best not to laugh at his face but seeing Isaac and Jose this fucking close to bursting out the vein in their foreheads made me choke on my spit.

'This will be the fucking death of me…'

But despite all that, the show must go on for the motherfucker and I easily identified his friends among the crowd because they were the only ones that clapped after he finished his dance number.

And yeah, we didn't even get to confirm whether he could really hold his breath for more than five minutes because the five minutes we gave him was the only five minutes he'd get because those five minutes of our life couldn't be taken back.

I used my microphone to address him and everyone else:

[Alright… That's… That's great? I mean— great! Anyway~ I'd hate to do this but since we need to be out of this place as soon as possible, I'd prefer each audition to be a maximum of two minutes—not including the short interview we'd give them. Alright? Next one is~ Manuel Rivera? Please come on up, Manuel Rivera—]

"HERE!"

[Great! Hurry up!]

"ALRIGHT! HELLO EVERYBODY! I'M MANUEL RIVERA…"

'Why's he shouting so much…'

"I'M 20 YEARS OLD AND MY TALENT IS THAT I CAN DO THE 'OH-AH-AH-AH-AH!' FROM DOWN WITH THE SICKNESS PERFECTLY!"

'...'

"HERE I GO! *INHALES LOUDLY* OH— Wait a sec, can we get the backtrack first?"

#1 and #2 shouted at the same time, "YOU DIDN'T GIVE US SHIT! HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO PLAY IT?!"

"YOU DON'T HAVE DOWN WITH THE SICKNESS ON HAND?! BULLSHIT!"

In any case, it was another fiasco and my hopes of finding another diamond in the rough were getting slimmer and slimmer. It became apparent that some of the kids who enrolled in the academy had this frustration with their given talent because none of them would be here if it worked out in the real world.

Heck, I had my fair share of nurses who had other dreams or aspirations but sometimes, real life would just hit hard like a sack of bricks.

But yeah, we all had those moments when we had a co-worker suddenly belt out a difficult song or just sit down in front of a piano and set fire to the keys like it's fucking nothing.

Though it didn't take long before we uncovered another diamond—well~ let's be a little conservative right now and say it's an unidentified gemstone because its value was still unknown and its actual usefulness will be up to us in the end.

It was when we had screened a dozen or so applicants when a guy just barely meeting the height requirement for being accepted into the academy came up on stage with three wooden baseball bats and five slabs of stone which were an inch thick. He was a little on the muscular side but the first thing I noticed were his callused hands with more emphasis on his knuckles.

After giving us a quick bow, he put the baseball bats to the side as he stacked the slabs on top of one another—with a little bit of allowance—before he suddenly slammed his head down the center, going in with reckless abandon, right until his head hit the stage floor.

The guy hadn't even introduced himself to us yet as he went into performance mode and the next thing he did was break the bats with his arm, his shin, and his forehead yet again.

'Jesus fucking christ, that's gotta hurt…'

Aside from the shocked gasp and the whispered curses, it was too fucking quiet, to say the least, but he finished by giving us another bow while blood was slowly trickling from his forehead.

[Uhh… You okay there? You're bleeding, you know?]

"I'M NOT, SIR!"

[You are, we can see the blood—]

"IT DOESN'T HURT, SIR!"

[Ah… I see… That's good…]

"I CAN BREAK MORE THINGS, SIR! BUT I'M GONNA BE OUT OF POINTS TO SPEND IF I BREAK ANY MORE BATS, SIR! I CAN USE 4X4s BUT IT DOESN'T LOOK TOO IMPRESSIVE, SIR!"

[I see, I see… Care to tell us your name, first?]

"..."

[Hello?]

"SIR!"

[Your name—]

He never looked so panicked, "I TOTALLY FORGOT, SIR! MY NAME'S RUBEN PADILLA, SIR!"

[C-Can you tone it down a bit? Wait a sec— Are you related to—]

"No, sir! My late family thought it would be funny, sir!"

[Ah… I see, is that your talent? Breaking slabs and bats without feeling pain?]

"Yes, sir! I believe no one can beat me in that regard, sir! I'm very resilient, sir! I can take much more damage than the regular person and the only time I felt pain was when I punched myself, sir!"

[Uh-huh… Well~ That's a pretty fascinating—]

"Sir! Before you set me aside, I'm just gonna say that I hit myself with the bats made of Narra, Molave, and Acacia, sir! They're all premium timber used for furniture—some of them even used for support beams for mines—but I made them myself to make sure that they're extra sturdy though my body could easily take them—"

I tried to wave him off, much to his dismay, [Wait a sec—]

"Sir! I-I'm not done! I-If you're not impressed, I'm still saving a Kamagong trunk for my own weapon—which is much, much harder than the three I listed above but—"

I let out a little bit of killing intent before I spoke through the mic, [Ruben. Stop talking for one fucking second.]

"..."

As soon as I said that, he looked like he wanted to say more but he kept his mouth shut as he was tightly balling his fists together. From the look on his face, he was desperate to get out of this place but his expression changed when these few simple words came out of my mouth:

[Pack up. You're in.]