1
Lupin furrowed his brow. How was it possible? How had a weakling beaten him? Stepping forward, he raised his fist as a current of water surged through it.
Tyler couldn't move, so Lupin was going to teach him a lesson.
"Calm down, Lupin," Michael said from behind, embracing him.
"...."
Lupin lowered his fist, leaving Tyler alone. He headed toward the facilities with Michael.
"Michael," Lupin said, his voice thick with shame. "I'm sorry... I—"
"You don't have to apologize," Michael said.
Relief washed over Lupin as he let out a sigh.
"Because you're not going to see me anymore," Michael added.
"Eh?" Lupin froze, confused.
Michael's face was heavy with sorrow, as if something was grieving him, as if something was happening that meant...
"Lupin, I'm sorry, but... I can't see you anymore," Michael said, the words like a knife to the heart.
No, no... that couldn't be happening. His sun, his light, was leaving him in the corridors of the coliseum just like that. As if their relationship were a thin thread, a mere spiderweb.
"I think I have to go," Michael said.
Lupin tried to move...
But...
Why don't you do it?
Do you think it's a joke?
He's escaping, Lupin! Go after him!
"This..."
He was his sun, and he was the hero of the world, so he could only hope that the script would eventually play out in his favor.
2
Elizabeth stepped onto the field. Tyler had been taken to the facilities to be healed.
"I'll do my best, Dylan," Elizabeth thought.
When she arrived, her opponent was waiting: Rias Gremory.
With green hair, lilac eyes, and glasses, the girl looked unassuming, but she was stronger than Elizabeth. She had been born with more mana, which meant Elizabeth was already at a disadvantage.
The gong sounded, and both girls raised their respective keys.
"Psycho Beam!"
"Plant punch!"
Elizabeth's pink beam shot out following the vibration of her key, tearing across the area like an obstacle course.
The fist of branches conjured by Rias didn't hesitate either; it appeared with the sound of a snapping whip, flying like a bird toward Elizabeth.
Both attacks collided, and a dull explosion followed as thousands of leaves scattered around them.
◇◆◇◆
Rias was a very obedient child. In fact, she always did what others ordered.
"Rias, make dinner." She made it.
"Rias, do your homework." She did it.
"Rias, clean the bathroom." She cleaned it.
"Rias, sweep." She grabbed the broom and swept.
She always had to obey. If she didn't, who would love her? Who would see her value? Her parents only paid attention to her if she did everything perfectly. So... she always got 100%. She was the exemplary student.
Everyone loves you if you are perfect, so she must not lose. She must not fail.
It was suffocating, terrifying, exhausting... but how else would they notice her? How would she stand out?
"What you're doing is pathetic," Elizabeth Taylor had once told her.
That girl had said it when Rias was in the music club.
"It's pathetic that you seek approval by being perfect," Elizabeth said. "You want to be perfect for the sake of it, but in my eyes, you're useless."
Those words destroyed her world. How dare a 12-year-old girl insult her like that? She should envy her, praise her...
"...."
Elizabeth always matched her grades. The competition began; she always tried to beat Elizabeth.
It's not enough.
It's not enough.
It's not enough.
It will never be enough. She must strive. She must show that she, too, can be a hero.
◇◆◇◆
"Elizabeth," Rias said. "Give up."
"Eh?"
"Can't you see?" Rias asked mockingly. "I'm stronger than you. You couldn't beat me even if your life depended on it."
"Psycho Hand!" Elizabeth shouted in anger.
The vibration traveled through her key, ending in the sound of a projectile. A giant pink hand formed and, like a boa constricting its prey, squeezed Rias's body with enormous force.
The girl tried to break free, but the hand had already pushed her to the line.
"ELIZABETH TAYLOR WINS!"
Once again, she took the spotlight. Elizabeth fell to her knees, sweating and gagging from the effort.
Rias was the same.
The match was fast—unfair for Rias, but just for Elizabeth.
3
Elias also stepped onto the "court," as he called it. He was up against a girl with gray hair and bangs that covered her eyes, wearing a simple orange dress.
Her name was Lisia Richios, daughter of the agency's founder. As soon as they touched the battle sand, the gong sounded.
"Air dark Ball," Lisia said, raising a pair of scissors.
A green air ball filled with black lines appeared, moving to the rhythm of the sphere's wind. The attack came from the iron scissors; a whistling sound echoed as the sphere of air and darkness was launched at Elias.
Elias raised his sword.
"Fire Cut!" The cut, whose immense heat increased with the rhythm of Elias's breathing, transformed into flames. Diagonally, as if guided by an invisible ruler, he sliced through the ball of air and darkness.
Heat gusts scattered once the attacks collided. It was clear the fight could either be very fast or very slow.
◇◆◇◆
"Scissors are dangerous!"
Lisia had heard that phrase thousands of times. She no longer cared about anyone's opinion.
Scissors are cute, she thought. Aren't they?
Lisia linked her key to a pair of silver scissors. Her greatest dream was to prove that scissors were your best allies. She took this opportunity; now she could show it with a Marthood.
No one would judge her "little ones" anymore. Finally, they would feed her ego. As it should be for a Richios.
◇◆◇◆
The green air and darkness were transfigured into a sphere again, flying like a carrier pigeon toward Elias with absurd speed.
"Fire impulse!" Elias shouted.
Burning fire with the sound of a roar appeared at his feet. With a sigh, Elias kicked the ground, jumping as he was wrapped in sheets of heat and wind that raced over his skin.
Elias closed the distance and, without pausing, struck the girl in the neck, sending her flying to the other end of the arena.
"Hajajajaja," Lisia laughed, picking herself up.
"What's so funny?!" Elias asked, his anger rising.
He was gagging and sweating, gripped by an immense thirst. Unlike Elizabeth, who managed to leave the field on her own, Elias feared he wouldn't be able to do the same.
"You know what?" Lisia said. "My scissors are humiliating you."
She raised her "precious" again, spitting out the blood that leaked from her mouth from Elias's blow.
"Dark pulse," Lisia said.
Her shadow took shape, becoming a plume that surged forward without looking back.
"Dragon breath," Elias recited.
Fire erupted from his sword with the heat of a furnace. The flames were directed at the girl. Lisia took a step back, not paying attention to where she was going.
"ELIAS MARTHOOD WINS!"
Lisia looked at the ground. She had stepped outside the orange line.
"No, no, no, NO!!!" Lisia screamed, unable to process what happened.
Elias collapsed, as did Lisia, both breathing heavily.
"DAMN YOU! YOU'LL SEE, YOU'LL ALL SEE! THE SCISSORS, THE SCISSORS!" Lisia repeated the words like a mantra.
4
After seeing the winners helped out and the losers escorted away (as they would likely kill the winners otherwise), Harold felt a wave of fear.
"Oh no, oh no... why did I get into this?" Harold thought.
How was he supposed to win? How would he even survive?
"Harold, are you okay?" Carla asked.
Harold felt relief run through his veins, letting out a sigh.
"Uh, yeah," he said.
"..."
Carla just stared at him, moving closer and closer.
"Ah, ah, eh, Carla, what are you doing?" Harold asked.
"Harold..." Carla said, blushing. "I have a lot of confidence in you."
Then she gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"You can do it," Carla said. "I believe in you."
Carla stood up and left the room, leaving Harold bright red and with a racing heart.
"Your mother will always love you, Harold."
Those words returned, heavy and painful in his heart.
"...."
The only words he remembered from his mother before she and his father died in a fire caused by someone... by Ri■■■. Again, he couldn't remember the name... or was it Ri■■■?
"I have to go," Harold said.
Ri■■■, Ri■■■, Ri■■■, ■■■■■. What was he trying to remember?
◆◇◆◇
Richt Velordi—that exquisite name that had devoured the capital sin. Even if he wasn't a man of great importance, it didn't mean the food Morty brought him was bad...
The carriage with the inert man moved forward while Morty sat at the front with Darius. Suddenly, the carriage lurched to a halt, and moans were heard from up front.
Those two were stopping the journey for their sex sessions again. Well, Gluttony couldn't complain...
At least they had given him dinner.
◆◇◆◇
5
Harold was in the arena with his opponents. He swallowed hard; there were four of them as the wind blew and the gong sounded. The rules were the same: the last one inside the circle wins.
Harold barely moved his legs before the first blast occurred.
"Lightning lights!"
The sunlight intensified as the heat became unbearable. It was too bright to open one's eyes.
"Darker bullet."
The sound of a bullet caused the sunlight to dim, like filling a hole with dirt.
"Terra Cut."
Harold drew a small knife and launched a cut of earth, striking one of his opponents firmly.
"Water expulse," Michael Fronx said.
Harold turned. The boy had charged a massive amount of water into a ball.
With a smile, Michael launched the water ball, and massive amounts of it flooded the field, pushing all his adversaries out.
"I did it," he thought. "Everything just as—"
The boy fell to his knees, spitting out crystals. Then, those spit-ups turned into a vomit of blood mixed with crystals.
The boy didn't care about his life; he only cared if his father could be released from that seal.
Without another word, he lost consciousness.
Swallowing a pile of mana crystals to boost his power had not been a good idea.