Bermuda

“P-please, spare me. Just once, spare—! I said spare me, damn it—!”

The owner of the voice from the forest was sprinting while dodging arrows flying from behind. Having lived his whole life as an errand runner in back alleys, at least he knew how to run well. But the pistol he had painstakingly brought as a weapon was useless in this match, so anyone he met turned him into a fugitive.

He was currently being chased by a group. Normally pursuers gave up after some distance, but these ones were extremely persistent. And unlike the earlier phase that was almost a free-for-all, now that the latter half had begun everyone had started forming teams just to survive, which made it even worse.

The fugitive hugged his bag to his chest with one arm and held the empty pistol like a club in the other. Just as he tried to sweep away branches blocking his view with the barrel—

“Aaagh!”

One pursuer who had been waiting beyond the brush swung a gleaming axe.

Five surrounding trees were cut down in a single blow. The fugitive narrowly avoided it, rolled across the ground, and crawled down the sloped hill.

But his position was already exposed and he was outnumbered. His stamina was exhausted, and he had even lost his sense of direction. He never realized he was being herded. After wandering the jungle under pursuit, he ended up trapped at a dead end below a cliff.

Panting, he looked up at the towering cliff and sensed movement from all sides. To his left stood a mage chanting, to his right a bandit holding a huge axe. Behind him, a hunter slowly approached with bowstring drawn.

Cornered, he pressed his back to the cliff and shouted with a trembling voice.

“Damn stubborn bastards... If it were me I’d be looking for another flower instead of wasting time!”

“Why look for flowers? You’re holding the last crystal we need to pass.”

The arrowhead adjusted and aimed at the bulging fold of his clothes.

“And you’re just as stubborn, aren’t you? Fast like a cockroach. If you’d handed it over when we asked nicely, we’d all save time.”

“Are you insane? Do you know how I got this? I’d rather throw it away than give it to—”

“We don’t want to hurt anyone either.”

With three people closing in from three directions, the fugitive glanced up the cliff. Too high to climb, and charging forward meant facing ranged weapons. Before he left their range, an arrow or fireball would hit his torso first.

Evidence lay in his already scorched, torn clothes. But he never let go of the bag with the crystal. Losing it now meant losing any chance to negotiate with others.

“Come on, hand it over. I might miss your head, but I can cut tendons.”

The three pursuers snickered at the trapped rat. The fugitive squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, denying reality.

Is this the end?

Everyone here was desperate, but he absolutely had to reach the betting rounds. He had even bought a second-hand black-market pistol... he couldn’t be eliminated here. He ground his teeth and rolled his eyes. Even if bitten by a tiger, you live if you keep your wits.

At that moment, a vague silhouette flickered atop the cliff. Clinging to hope, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Anyone! Whoever needs white or red! I’ll give them to you, just help me!”

He shouted madly into the air, making the three pursuers hesitate for a moment before scoffing and shaking their heads.

“As if anyone would come. There are three of us.”

“Stop trying to add competition and just—”

A faint breeze passed between them.

In the instant they blinked, a man was standing before them.

The four locked in confrontation fell silent. The grass at the man’s feet bent in one direction, pressed down by some force, yet no footsteps had been heard. No approach had been sensed.

The pursuers naturally stepped back in shock at the ghostlike arrival.

“W-what the hell is this guy?”

“Hey, do you really have white?”

Ignoring them, Leonardo placed his palm beside the fugitive’s head and asked straight away. The stunned fugitive blinked at the suddenly close face.

“W-whoa!”

He dropped to the ground, instinctively yelping. Still crouched, he raised a shaky guard and scanned the man up and down. His gaze first landed on Leonardo’s heavily bulging jacket pockets.

Each participant could carry only one support item. So what filled those pockets had to be crystals. And having many crystals meant strength.

The fugitive’s disjointed thoughts ended with him nodding vigorously.

“Y-yes, sir! I’ve got one white and one red — two total!”

He instinctively felt this man was a savior. He quickly showed the crystals from his bag. The white was unmistakable, unworn. For the first time seeing a white crystal, Leonardo’s lips curled upward.

“If I save you here, will you hand them to me?”

His relaxed eyes and confident tone proved strength, though not trustworthiness.

The fugitive swallowed and tucked the crystals back nervously.

“Not for free... if you take me with you...”

“Hey, what are you doing? Those are ours. We wore him down — you can’t just jump in.”

One pursuer cut in. Leonardo glanced sideways and asked the fugitive again.

“They say it’s theirs. True?”

“What? No! I found them — they’re trying to steal them!”

The fugitive protested desperately. Leonardo rubbed his chin, then shrugged as if it didn’t matter. He grabbed the man’s arm, pulled him up, slung an arm over his shoulder, and declared to the pursuers.

“Look elsewhere. He’s coming with me.”

The pursuers exchanged looks, then silently pointed at Leonardo’s pockets. Three against one seemed winnable.

They charged together.

Leonardo sighed in annoyance yet accepted. It didn’t take long to settle.

***

“Boss, you’re truly my savior! Until this match ends — no, for the entire League — I’ll serve you faithfully! Just give an order and I’ll devote my life—”

“Hey. Quiet.”

Scanning the surroundings, Leonardo frowned back at the man. The temporary partner carrying the heavy bag shut his mouth but still followed closely, grinning.

“Sorry, boss.”

Leonardo looked him up and down, lifted his cap slightly, brushed back sweat-damp hair, and sighed silently.

I picked wrong...

They were heading toward the stamen tower at the island’s center while avoiding others. Flying straight across would be faster, but exposing himself to all eighty-seven competitors at once wasn’t boldness — it was recklessness.

And since his partner’s ability was lacking, Leonardo had to protect both of them and the crystals.

Should’ve taken one of the three I knocked out...

No. At least he has stamina. And not completely clueless.

He reassured himself. Better a friendly one than an arrogant stiff. Just then the partner leaned in and whispered.

“You were amazing earlier, boss. How you went thump, smash, wham—”

“Please...”

Leonardo shut his eyes. He could no longer deny he had picked up dead weight number four.

The fugitive introduced his League alias as “Joker,” claiming he’d become the joker of the game, then sheepishly admitted another name, “Erwik.”

“Call me Ero, boss. What should I call you? The strongest masked man?”

Ero. Like Error. Leonardo ignored the rest.

“Lion. My League alias.”

“Lion? King of the jungle! Then can I call you Brother Lion? Lion and Ero — the ultimate duo!”

He’d used the name Teo too often, and investigators had mentioned it before, so he set it aside for the League. Leo or Lion, same thing — perhaps he even hoped the Legion Commander might notice.

Meanwhile Ero vowed to be his right hand and described Leonardo’s fight like reciting scripture:

Leonardo had raised a barrier, caught the flying axe bare-handed, thrown it to split an arrow and knock the hunter unconscious, kicked the bandit into the air and smashed him into the ground, then grabbed the mage’s wrist and extinguished the fire.

“‘Sorry, but flames like that don’t work on me.’ I almost cried!”

Leonardo rubbed his face. It felt less like praise and more like mockery. He stuffed grass into Ero’s mouth to shut him up.

Then he looked at his tingling hot palm.

What’s this?

The weapons brought into the League seemed enchanted so others couldn’t hold them. When he grabbed the axe, a strange pain spread from [N O V E L I G H T] his hand through his body. Combined with hours of running, his temperature kept rising. Not a cold — poison from Plarinus?

Either way, now that he had a partner and crystals, he had to finish quickly.

Before the opening ceremony ends... I need to see him at least once.

He unconsciously sped up.

“Boss, are you sure it’s okay I carry all the crystals? What if I run?”

“Will you?”

“N-no! I’m your assistant!”

“If you run, run. I don’t trust you.”

“Then why—”

“They’re heavy. And I’ll catch you anyway. I’ll find you and break your limbs.”

“....”

“Still want to run?”

Without changing expression, Leonardo continued scanning for enemies. Ero smiled nervously.

“I’ll serve you faithfully, boss!”

They soon neared the giant Plarinus. About a kilometer from the petals, smoke rose from the stamen tower, and the sky darkened.