The late morning sun hung high in the sky, casting sharp shadows across the cracked courtyard. The heat shimmered off the pavement, and the distant sound of soldiers shouting and laughing echoed through the base.
Then the main doors of the central building swung open.
And out walked the woman who could only be the leader.
She was tall—nearly as tall as Hiro—with broad shoulders and a muscular build that suggested years of street fighting rather than military training. Her hair was dyed in streaks of purple and black, pulled back into a messy ponytail that swayed with each step. She wore a leather jacket over her uniform—against regulations, clearly—and brass knuckles hung from her belt like trophies.
But it was her eyes that caught Hiro's attention.
Sharp. Calculating. And utterly without respect.
Behind her, three women and four men followed. They carried the same rough presence as their leader, but it was obvious she was in command. The group behind her was the main unit force of this place—the Doghouse.
She must be the captain of this unit, Hiro thought.
He had transformed back to his human form moments ago, still catching his breath from the earlier journey. But even without his fox senses, he could feel it—the way her presence changed the entire atmosphere of the base. The air grew heavier. The laughter faded.
But… she seems weaker than Yurei.
The observation surprised him. Not weak—no one with that presence could be called weak. But compared to the princess who had faced down a Class Five Abyssal? Beatrice felt smaller. Like a bonfire next to a sun.
All the soldiers who had been doing whatever they were doing—sparring, gambling, drinking—quickly sprang to their feet. They lined up into two neat rows, their postures snapping from lazy to rigid in seconds, saluting the woman who had just arrived.
She walked down the center of the two lines with prideful steps, her boots striking the cracked pavement in rhythm, until she stopped directly in front of Yurei.
"If it isn't Princess Skyfall," the woman grinned, eyeing Yurei like a lion eyeing its prey.
"I see you haven't changed, Captain Beatrice," Yurei replied, her voice cool. She didn't blink. Didn't flinch.
"What can I say?" Beatrice placed both hands on her hips. "Change isn't much in my vocabulary."
"So that means you still can't beat us," Marian said, her signature teasing smile spreading across her face.
"Big Sister Mari!"
Beatrice lunged forward, arms wide for a hug—but Marian sidestepped gracefully, and Beatrice stumbled past, arms wrapping around empty air.
"Why are you being so cold, Big Sis?" Beatrice moaned, pouting like a child denied their favorite toy.
"For the last time," Marian sighed, "I'm not your big sister."
"But you're the one who got us into the army! You stopped us from going to jail!"
Marian's expression flickered—something old and tired passing behind her eyes. Then she looked away.
Beatrice's attention shifted. Her predator gaze landed on Hiro, who stood slightly behind the group, still feeling the weight of stares from the base members.
"Hey, Princess. Who's this guy?"
"He is my slave," Yurei said calmly.
"What?!" Beatrice's eyes went wide. "You finally found yourself a slave?"
Before anyone could react, she moved with unnatural speed—closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. Her hands grabbed Hiro's cheeks, squeezing and turning his face side to side like she was examining livestock.
"Hmmm." She tilted her head. "He seems kinda cute. But no flesh on them bones."
"Nice to meet you," Hiro said, his words muffled by her grip.
"But polite." Beatrice's grin widened. "That's a good quality in a slave."
She released him, and Hiro exhaled in relief.
"Hey! Scott! Come greet our guests."
A figure who had been standing quietly behind Beatrice finally stepped forward. He was tall, lean, dressed in a crisp blue suit that looked more suited for a boardroom than a military base. Wire-frame glasses sat on his nose, and his dark hair was slicked back perfectly. He gave both Yurei and Marian a gracious bow—deep, formal, almost theatrical.
"Greetings, Princess Skyfall and Royal Unit member Marian."
"Still a stickler," Marian said, eyeing him.
Scott's lips twitched—just for a moment—before he quickly recovered. He turned to Hiro, extending a hand.
"An honor to meet a fellow slave. Especially one bound to a princess."
"Nice to meet you too."
Hiro shook his hand. The grip was firm. Practiced.
Hiro scanned the man from top to bottom. The blue suit. The polished glasses. The smooth, measured way he spoke.
He's giving serious corrupt banker vibes, Hiro thought.
"But on a serious note," Beatrice said, her carefree attitude evaporating like morning mist, "why are you here, Skyfall?"
"Inspection."
One word.
The effect was immediate. A ripple of murmurs spread through the entire base. Soldiers exchanged glances. Some shifted uncomfortably. Others stared at the ground.
"According to the reports," Yurei continued, her voice carrying across the courtyard, "this base is seriously underperforming. Necessary fighting forces have been deployed late. No consideration for civilian safety. Late responses to Gate appearances." She paused. "And the list goes on."
Beatrice stared at Yurei for a couple of seconds.
Then she burst into laughter—loud, genuine, almost infectious. The rest of the base laughed alongside her, a wave of mocking sound that echoed off the cracked walls.
"Such things are irrelevant to us," Beatrice said, wiping a tear from her eye. She emphasized the word criminal. "We're just a couple of former criminals."
"However," Yurei replied, not backing down, "they are relevant to the army. And to myself."
Beatrice's laughter stopped. Her smile remained—but it didn't reach her eyes.
"So whatcha gonna do about it Princess?"