Anyways, still plenty time before I meet back up with Bro. Guess I'll keep thinkin' about fighting until then. I'm sure I'll be fine regardless, of course, but preparation surely couldn't hurt. 

That being said, I'm not quite sure how much else I have to consider. I've watched a great number of fights, of course, but there's only so much one can learn from watching. Especially since I've mostly only really paid attention to the interesting ones, y'know, the big, flashy spectacles, like total war and kids attempting to imitate wrestling moves. Usually results in relatively similar amounts of injury and bloodshed. 

But, yeah, not too much I can gleam from that. Other than, maybe, the importance of head protection. Fortunately, I have that more than covered. The angler hat is the ultimate protection from the elements. There is no better protection here, or anywhere else in any universe. I'm sure of it.

Back to fighting, though... Should I use magic? Nah. I mean, I can use it in this world, it seems, but I don't really know what to do with it. I know it can heal and do some other stuff, but, really, it's a little out of my area. I suppose I could try it as a sort of last-resort type of thing, but I'm pretty sure my very existence means that situation probably wont ever come up. 

So, I'm back to where I started... Eh, it shouldn't matter too much, I suppose. Though, I guess if I wanted to learn something more, I could hit up the library, see if there's a book about martial arts, or something. I know I wont be using martial arts, at least, in the traditional sense, but maybe there's some useful bits of wisdom to gleam. It's worth a try, at least. 

Guess I'll head over there.

. . .

Well, I suppose I don't actually know where it is, or if this town has a library in the first place, but I've got plenty of time. I'll probably find it, eventually.

. . .

. . .

Huh. People are still goofing off by that stupid statue. Do they not have anything better to do?

. . .

. . .

Ah, the guild hall. Strange how willing they are to send kids on potentially deadly missions, isn't it? Though, I suppose the idea of 'kids' in this world is far from conventional. 

And putting a bar directly adjacent to the hall, directly connected to it, even, giving heavily armed, generally foolhardy, probably mentally unstable freelancers easy and immediate access to alcohol in an area they're likely to gather. Is that a stroke of pure business genius, or a veritable ticking timebomb? 

. . .

Hmm. The shopping district. Ugh. Talk about sensory overload. Well, I suppose I don't mind it too much. That blacksmith over there by the edge seems pretty okay, and- HOLY CRAP IS THAT A BAIT SHOP?! Anyways, yeah, this is the best part of town. 

That being said, I doubt I'm going to find a library over here. I'll be moving on to the next area now. 

After passing by the bait shop to peek inside, of course. I'm only huma- well, no I'm not, but it's the only reasonable thing to do at this point.

. . .

Nice. Fishing rocks.

The general populous seems to agree, what with all the hooting and hollering from-

Oh, wait, that's coming from behind that corner over there. Well, that's lame. Clearly the good stuff's over here. Those losers are missing out.

That said, the part timer who's noticed me from the window seems quite confused right now, so I should probably get moving.

Suppose I could check out what it is these screeching masses are so excited about. I'm going that way anyways, I may as well.

As I got closer to the street corner and began to turn into it, the 'ooh'-ing and 'aahhh'-ing grew ever louder, and I could feel the perspective shifting again...

'Yep, there it is.' The immortal thought to herself. 

On the other end of that street corner was a street performer, of sorts. Now, normally, simple performers like this don't attract too much of a crowd, only really getting attention from the especially generous or especially bored.

Unless, of course, the performer happened to be doing something novel, or, even better, incredibly dangerous. Now, that draws a crowd.

This particular performer was accomplishing both. For, you see, he was decked out in colorful clowning attire. The whole nine yards. Baggy pants, white as snow face paint, rainbows absolutely everywhere, and even that funny little jesters hat, with the bells and stuff. It was, needless to say, very eye catching. But, that alone isn't enough to draw a crowd, of course. 

Well, yeah it is, he did look absolutely ridiculous, after all, but what really gave him a boost was his juggling. Of course, most clowns juggle, but this man, this man was juggling sickles. 

'Hah. What a freak.' The immortal quite rudely thought to herself, ready to pass this man right on by with little more than a glance. 'Why sickles, of all things? Though, he does certainly seem quite good with them.' She conceded. 'Come to think of it, bro uses sickles, too. Maybe there's something to gleam from this guy.' 

Thus, the immortal decided to stay a while, and watch. At least until she got bored, anyway. Which, normally, would've been pretty quick. However, after a moment, the immortal had a realization. 'Have I... Seen this guy somewhere before?' 

It didn't take long for the peculiar performer to take notice. 'Ah crap, some little girl is giving me the stink eye.' The clown thought to himself. 'Does... Does she know? S-Surely not. I've taken great measures to assure that's impossible. And, at any rate, I'm an honest man with a normal job now.' Thought the grown man in clown clothes juggling on a street corner. 'I've left those days far behind me. No more robbin' kids in dark alleys.' 

. . .

'And what the flying hell is up with the fishing gear?!'

The performer, distracted by these thoughts, accidentally threw one of his sickles with a rough arc. The audience began to gasp as they quickly realized the trajectory of this sickle. If nobody acted, the sickle was gonna land square on the mans head!

'Pfft, this dude's totally 'bouta eat it.' The immortal thought to herself.

And nobody seemed to mind! 

The sickle quickly plummeted towards the mans head, and collided. A moment later, the sickle fell to the ground, with a great clink.

The crowd was stunned, silent, and still. The man, too, stood perfectly still, with a sickle in both hands, his head hanging down. 

The immortal didn't seem to mind, though. 

. . .

Suddenly, the man looked back up, crossed his eyes, and goofily stuck his tongue out with a gentle yet firm "Gyehuh!", as he threw a sickle into the air once more, and, in that same motion, kicked the sickle up from the ground and into his hands. With a little, subtle help from wind magic.

The crowd was awed, and gentle sighs of relief and hearty laughter (as well as a little reserved disappointment) rung through the crowd, and the clinking of various coins being tossed at the man echoed throughout this street corner.

'Huh. Cool.' The immortal thought.

'Whew... That was close...' The man thought to himself. 'That's the one good thing 'bout my old profession. Can't get by without a lil' pain tolerance.'

. . .

'Still hurts like hell, though...'

And thus, the show continued, and by the end of it, the man had earned himself a sizable amount of coin. Satisfied with the fruit of a hard days work, retreated to his lodgings.

The immortal had left long before that, though, soon after the dude 'bout gave himself a friggin' concussion. She got bored. 

'Huh. I guess head protection's important.' she thought to herself as she was finally actually heading off towards the library. 'But I already friggin went over that.' 

. . .

It was kinda pointless, honestly. 

"Yeah, you're right about that." Said a certain slanted and gray bastard man, walking away with a sort of jingling coming from his pockets.

"Oi, didn't this thing used to have bells?" The clown man exclaimed as he took off his work clothes.