"Oh?"
"If you're that confident, why don't we make a bet?"
Priscilla slipped her folding fan into her chest with such practiced ease that it looked like she had performed the motion thousands of times.
Astonishingly, her chest seemed to possess a genuine fourth-dimensional pocket.
The moment the fan disappeared into it, not even a trace remained.
"A bet?"
Shiro looked at Priscilla suspiciously, trying to figure out where her confidence came from.
Ordinary people would usually flee the moment they heard someone could distort fate.
Even Desperados generally avoided competing over control of fate unless there was an overwhelming gap between them.
There was little strategic value in winning such a contest.
Rather than waste time on that, it was usually much simpler to draw a sword and settle things directly.
Someone like Priscilla—Who knew her influence over fate would not have much effect on Shiro, yet still insisted on competing—Was quite rare.
As for why the girl had inexplicably taken such a liking to him, Shiro already had a likely explanation.
[Celestial Star Spirit's Protection]
· Makes it easier to gain the favor of objects or beings possessing the concept of the Sun.
Shiro had no idea how powerful this effect could become, nor what kind of "favor" it referred to.
But Priscilla was most likely being influenced by this skill.
Judging by her personality, when choosing subordinates, whether someone was pleasing to her eye might matter even more than whether they were competent.
That was probably why she wanted Shiro beneath her command.
"Correct."
"A simple wager."
Priscilla reached into her mysterious "four-dimensional pocket" again and pulled out a holy gold coin of the highest denomination.
Then she casually tossed it into the air.
"We toss this coin and guess which side lands face-up."
"If you lose, you will immediately enter my service."
"How does that sound?"
"Your biggest advantage in the Royal Selection is probably something along the lines of 'following you means never losing,' right?"
Shiro looked at her calmly.
"If you lose over something this trivial and word gets out, it could seriously damage your faction."
"If even that doesn't bother you, then sure."
"I'll play along."
"Oh~?"
"You don't even state what you want if you win?"
Priscilla smiled.
"No matter."
"If you can win, then show me."
"Any noble foolish enough to choose another camp simply because I lose this little after-dinner amusement only proves they lack even the qualifications to kneel beneath my dress."
"Have I not already told you?"
"Nothing disadvantageous to me can ever happen in this world."
"Whether I lose here or not, the one who ultimately receives all glory will still be me alone."
"That is the will of heaven!"
"All other supporting actors need only bow their heads and obey!"
As Priscilla spoke, an overwhelming aura of absolute supremacy radiated from her body.
She was telling Shiro something in the most direct way possible.
There was no need for doubt.
In this world—Aside from Priscilla, all other living beings were equal.
Everyone else needed only to obey her commands, and they would receive whatever they desired.
In other words—Within Priscilla's eyes...
She was heaven's chosen.
And she was the only one.
At that moment, Shiro also became certain of something.
Setting aside the other Royal Selection candidates he had yet to meet—If Emilia genuinely intended to become king...
Then Priscilla would become an unimaginably difficult obstacle.
Perhaps even the greatest one.
"Since you have no objections, I shall toss it."
Priscilla flicked her wrist.
The falling coin landed in her palm before being thrown high into the air again.
The golden holy coin traced a perfect arc overhead.
Sunlight struck its reverse side, making it shine brilliantly.
Yet neither of them bothered to look up.
"Heads or tails?"
"Which side will you choose?"
"Or shall I choose for you?"
A captivating smile rested on Priscilla's lips as she stared into Shiro's golden eyes, which shone like the sun itself.
The instant she threw the coin—Countless threads of fate intertwined.
Together, they pushed Priscilla toward the future most favorable to her.
As long as they remained standing upon this world—No matter what Shiro chose, the final victor should only ever be Priscilla.
That was the love this world bestowed upon her.
An undeniable fact.
"Doesn't matter."
"You choose."
Shiro spoke casually.
"I'll be the one who wins in the end anyway."
Compared to Priscilla, Shiro, who regularly manipulated fate himself, understood even more clearly what had just happened to the world's causality.
And yet—He still handed the choice to her.
Their gazes met in midair.
Both saw absolute confidence in the other's eyes.
However—Neither of them spoke.
Neither chose which side the coin would land on.
An eerie silence filled the alley.
The three thugs, already frightened enough to collapse onto the ground, stared nervously at the glittering coin falling from above.
They clamped their hands over their mouths.
Not one of them dared make a sound.
They were terrified that interrupting the contest might cause whichever terrifying monster lost to vent their anger on them afterward.
Time seemed to freeze.
The entire alley sank into tense silence.
Heads?
Or tails?
Neither Shiro nor Priscilla made a guess.
Yet both of their gazes naturally settled on the falling coin.
Clink—
The holy gold coin struck the stone floor with a crisp sound, breaking the silence.
Then—Under everyone's gaze, the golden coin bounced twice.
Afterward, it began rolling across the alley.
Rumble, rumble—
It continued onward until it gently bumped against the trouser leg of the thug lying on the ground.
Then—
As stable as a mountain peak—
It remained standing perfectly upright on its edge.
"!!!"
'I'M DEAD!!!!!'
The leader's face instantly turned deathly pale as he stared at the coin that had rolled over and stopped against him.
Inside, he screamed hysterically.
'WHY DID IT HAVE TO ROLL OVER HERE?!'
'Wasn't the woman supposed to catch it again according to how this scene was going?!'
'I was even hoping she'd lose so maybe she'd hit me a little less afterward!'
'But now I'm going to get beaten by BOTH OF THEM?!'
'Gaston! Hambali!'
'DON'T JUST STARE!'
'THINK OF SOMETHING AND SAVE ME!!!'
The leader desperately sent signals toward his two followers with his eyes.
The other two immediately turned their heads away as though they had seen absolutely nothing.
They suddenly seemed fascinated by the surrounding scenery.
The alley fell silent once more.
But unlike before—This silence resembled the calm before a storm.
And the thug named Rachins was nothing more than a tiny boat adrift upon the sea—Waiting for nature's merciless judgment.
The next second—
"Pfft—HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
…