Bermuda

“Which bastard was it?! Who threw something like this?!”

“You can’t even dodge that, but your mouth sure runs fast. Yap, yap.”

Click, click—heavy footsteps sounded from thick platform heels. A woman dressed in a gothic-style dress approached with an elegant gait, then grabbed the dangling rag doll by the scruff.

“Morboin, I’m sorry. That hurt a lot, didn’t it?”

She dusted off the doll’s surface with a lace-gloved hand, patting at it. Then she swung it again without mercy at the man still collapsed on the ground. He instinctively raised both arms over his head.

Leonardo Blaine parted his lips.

He could not understand why his partner—who was supposed to be sleeping quietly back at their lodging—was right in front of him, causing a scene.

“Bea—”

He almost called out her name on reflex, then slapped his palm over his own mouth. When he immediately looked around, he saw attention steadily gathering this way. Of course it was.

A woman dressed in something utterly ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) incompatible with the League beating a man much larger than herself was a spectacle.

The bizarre skull accessories that looked like she might summon Satan at any moment, the dress flamboyant to the extreme—this was unmistakably Beatrice’s usual look. He did not know where she had been hiding until now, but judging by the situation, she had stepped in because of him...

The problem was that if he acknowledged her here, he might get dragged into the commotion.

“Whoa, what’s with that woman?”

“That concept is insane.”

As expected, participants passing by tossed in a comment or two. Leonardo, watching the situation, hesitated over whether he should stop his out-of-control ally.

Just then, the League operations staff who had been controlling the crowd noticed the disturbance and shouted from a distance.

“What do you think you’re doing over there?”

“Fighting outside the arena is prohibited!”

But Beatrice did not stop. With an expression that said this was exactly what she wanted, she focused only on beating the man, swinging the doll like a boomerang.

She was not someone who welcomed midday sunlight, and today the hollow, sunken glare hidden beneath the wide brim of her hat looked especially hysterical.

“Y-you crazy bitch!”

The man, who had become the official weakling in front of everyone, tried desperately to resist, but it was useless. It was as if the doll had stones stuffed inside—every time the human-shaped mass came crashing down, the heavy impact broke him again and again.

Then a mediator appeared before them.

“Hey, Belle.”

A hulking figure large enough to swallow both of their shadows. The man seized the slender wrist that was swinging the weapon and stopped Beatrice.

“You want to get eliminated before you even reach the preliminaries? That’s enough.”

“That bastard keeps yapping! I’m doing it instead of Leo—mmph!”

A rough, thick palm clamped over her red lips, stark against her pale skin. Her cheek caved inward under the pressure. Even so, that was a brutal hand for someone supposedly traveling with an elegant lady.

“Don’t make a scene. You didn’t come here to interfere.”

“Aaagh, idiot! You’re ruining my makeup!”

Having heard his name in passing, Leonardo swallowed his shock and backed away several steps. The giant was Gillian.

Another partner from Libertas—the powerhouse who loved wine.

Why is he here too?

Seeing two familiar faces in such an unexpected place made Leonardo quietly afraid of how many more might pop out next. He had not assumed his partners would leave everything about the League entirely to him, but this kind of blatant behavior was beyond what he expected.

He wanted to drag them somewhere quiet right away and demand an explanation. Instead, League operations staff finally forced their way through the crowd and approached the tangled trio.

“What happened here?”

Worried the beaten man might blurt out nonsense, Gillian spoke first.

“Ah, well. This guy kept sneaking looks at her skirt and running his mouth about showing his skills and whatever, so our Belle got angry and did this. Sure, it was wrong to throw the first hit, but isn’t the guy who couldn’t control his tongue also at fault? Making a disgrace of himself at a sacred arena.”

“N-no, what—!”

The shameless spin made the crowd stir immediately. People who had approached to stop the fight glanced at the man with flat, judging eyes.

“So that’s why. He had it coming.”

“Why’s he acting like that when he came to watch the test?”

“Guess the problem’s between his legs.”

They threw out a line each, sent him cold looks, and slowly turned away.

“What the hell are you talking about—no! That’s not it! How does it become that?!”

The man looked around with a dumbfounded face and shouted in protest. He grabbed at the staff and pleaded, but they only stared at him with an unamused look.

Soon they stepped between him and the woman called Belle, forcing an appropriate distance. One of the staff members, apparently deciding Gillian was the only one they could reason with, asked again.

“Thank you for the explanation. Is there any additional harm or injury?”

“Yes, well. We’re fine. As you can see, this young lady is... very passionate.”

“Then that is fortunate. There will be no penalties, but could you tell us the participant number issued at registration and your League alias? You two are together, correct?”

“And why would we do that?”

The sharp retort came from Beatrice. Her expression openly radiated displeasure. Sensing she would not be easy to handle, the staff member answered calmly, careful not to provoke her.

“If issues arise between participants inside or outside the arena, it is our job to identify and address them. We ask for your cooperation.”

Gillian grabbed Beatrice by the shoulder and pulled her back as if warning her not to step forward. Then he answered with a hearty grin.

“This one is Belle. Participant number D67-314. You need mine too?”

“Yes. We would appreciate it.”

Around then, Gillian’s eyes slid sideways. His gaze landed on Leonardo, who had been standing awkwardly, watching.

Gillian’s eyes creased into a long smile, and he blinked one eyelid quickly. It lasted only an instant, but the signal to Leonardo was unmistakable.

We came to help you for our shared purpose.

“I’m participant number D67-808. My alias is Beast.”

Leonardo raised his palm and dragged it down his face. The people gathered here today were here for the Division Two test match.

Which meant that showing up wearing a participant number and an alias so openly meant they had already fought in Division One.

These bastards don’t even share updates anymore.

Even if they could not meet face-to-face due to their own obligations, there had been plenty of ways to send word. The fact that Leonardo had not known until now meant they had hidden their participation on purpose. It felt like the baggage he had wanted to avoid—five, six people—had been added in the end.

If it were someone else, fine. But Beatrice is hard to control. And she stands out too much.

Should he at least be grateful Gillian had come along as a sedative? Leonardo swallowed the sigh threatening to burst out.

“We will ask this individual a few questions and handle it appropriately. Next time, please refrain from intervening directly and report the matter to the operations staff.”

After offering a brief greeting, the League staff hauled the man who had been sprawled on the ground and took him somewhere. The other man who seemed to be with him stared blankly from side to side—then the moment he met Beatrice’s eyes, he bolted in a panic.

Once the situation finally settled, Gillian, who had been watching their backs, sharply twisted his face. He drove away the remaining stares with a menacing look, then lightly tapped Beatrice’s forearm.

“I told you not to jump in on your own.”

“This is so annoying. Morboin’s clothes got dirty.”

“You did that.”

As if nothing had happened, Beatrice adjusted her hat, then picked up the doll and hugged it tightly to her chest. Since Morboin was much taller than she was, his dangling feet dragged against the ground. The shoes, crudely stitched on, were smeared with dirt and bloodstains.

“Judy said she won’t get stains out anymore.”

“Don’t say the kids’ names here. If you do it one more time, I’ll just knock you out and drag you around. Got it?”

“How can you say something so violent to a lady? You really live up to being a beast.”

While the two of them bickered, a figure that had been lurking nearby cautiously poked his head out. He clapped twice as he approached the clearly abnormal pair.

“Damn, beautiful big sister, dependable big brother—! I really enjoyed watching you take down that scum!”

For a moment, Leonardo doubted both his eyes and his ears. It was a familiar voice and a shamelessly fawning tone.

“If you’re okay with it, would you like to join hands with us? Until the main tournament, the more allies you have, the better!”

And it was also something he had heard somewhere before.

The meaningless pistol strapped to his waist, the nimble feet that looked light as air—then he turned around.

Ero beamed and waved both hands enthusiastically at Leonardo.

“Isn’t that right, boss?”