The auditorium at the University of Anchorage was bustling with activity, packed to the rafters.
Political figures from all across Alaska, dressed in formal attire or sharp suits, wore expressions that were solemn yet approachable. They occasionally conversed in low voices, their topics mostly revolving around expanding their networks, seeking collaborations, and the upcoming election.
Representatives from various social organizations had also arrived. They ca from different fields, including mbers of environntal groups, delegates from cultural and artistic societies, and heads of various trade associations.
anwhile, representatives of the Indigenous People, clad in traditional attire rich with cultural character, sat quietly in their seats, occasionally exchanging a few soft-spoken words in their native languages.
The entire auditorium was a tapestry of interwoven sounds—quiet conversations, occasional laughter, and the subtle scrape of shifting chairs—as everyone waited for the award ceremony to officially begin.
The television crews were also frantically adjusting their equipnt.
In the auditorium’s lounge, the dal nominees each exhibited different states of mind.
So nominees sat bolt upright, their expressions a mix of nervousness and anticipation. They unconsciously clasped their hands together, glancing toward the lounge door from ti to ti as if expecting soone to walk in and announce the start of the ceremony at any second.
Other nominees appeared relatively relaxed, leaning back on comfortable sofas and chatting quietly with their companions.
Still others paced back and forth in the lounge, their brows slightly furrowed as they muttered to themselves, seemingly practicing the acceptance speeches they would give if they won.
anwhile, television station staff bustled about, so offering tea to the nominees while quietly reminding them of a few key points.
「Just then.」
The door to the lounge was pushed open.
Hearing the noise, everyone in the room instinctively looked up, their gazes turning in unison toward the doorway.
A black man-wolf strode in with a steady gait. Its black fur was glossy and smooth, catching the light with a faint sheen. Every step it took seed to carry an invisible pressure, making the surrounding air feel a few degrees heavier.
But what was even more eye-catching was the haughty grey parrot perched on its broad shoulder.
The crowd stared at this strange and sowhat baffling combination, first stunned, then frowning.
’Wearing an outfit like that to such a formal event.’
’Is he a cosplayer for the ceremony who’s wandered into the wrong room?’
Everyone looked at each other, their eyes filled with confusion, yet no one was quite sure. A low murmur of discussion began to spread through the lounge.
One of the television station staff mbers couldn’t suppress his curiosity and slowly walked over.
The closer he got, the more realistic the black man-wolf costu seed. The lifelike wolf head seed to exude a wild aura from the great outdoors, making him feel unconsciously nervous just looking at it.
However, out of professional habit and politeness, he steeled himself and asked cautiously.
"Sir, are you in the wrong place? The perforrs’ room is next door."
The black man-wolf heard this but didn’t respond imdiately. Instead, it unhurriedly backed away.
It retreated step by step to the doorway, then tilted its head slightly to carefully read the room number. After confirming it was correct, it reached up and slowly took off the wolf-head hat.
"No, this is the right place. The nominees’ lounge," Feng Shan said as he revealed a face that was mostly nonchalant, though currently mixed with a hint of helplessness.
’What?’
’You’re a dal nominee too?’
The staff mber was stunned. He clearly hadn’t expected the person in the bizarre outfit to be a nominee. His face was a mask of astonishnt, and the confusion in his eyes deepened.
He quickly pulled out a list and scanned it.
"And you are, sir?"
"Feng Shan."
"Oh, here you are. You are indeed a nominee." After finding Feng Shan’s na on the list, a smile instantly appeared on the staff mber’s face, though it was a bit awkward. "My apologies, your coat is just so... so cool."
’I knew this was too flashy!’
’This is all Frank’s fault. Nothing good ever happens when I wear this Wolf Fur Coat.’
Feng Shan shook his head helplessly, a sheepish smile on his face in response to the staff mber’s sowhat embarrassed grin.
"Please, find a place to rest. The ceremony hasn’t started yet. I’ll let you know when the host calls your na."
The staff mber said enthusiastically, pointing to an empty seat in the lounge to indicate where Feng Shan could sit. He then turned to attend to other matters.
Feng Shan nodded slightly and walked toward an empty spot.
Along the way, people continued to cast curious glances at him. Feng Shan pretended not to notice, just hoping the ceremony would end quickly so he could escape this awkward, eye-catching situation.
Loki, still perched on Feng Shan’s shoulder, hadn’t cooled his temper in the slightest. Seeing people still staring at him, the fire in his heart flared up again.
He puffed up and twitched his beak, looking like he was about to open his mouth and let loose a stream of curses to vent his dissatisfaction.
"Fu—"
He had just gotten the first syllable out, the sound not even fully ford, when Feng Shan instantly sensed his intention. He quickly reached out and clamped Loki’s beak shut, applying a little pressure to prevent him from spewing any more foul language.
Loki flapped his wings in frustration.
But this exact scene was witnessed by another nominee, who was there for his work in rescuing wild animals.
This particular nominee was a warm-hearted person, especially passionate about animal rights. The mont he saw Feng Shan clamp the grey parrot’s beak shut, he couldn’t stay seated. He shot to his feet, his face filled with indignation, and shouted.
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