The men all stripped down to their underwear. The naked, muscular bodies of these tough men were on full display, presented in a bold and suggestive manner. From burly and thick, to lean and slender, all the trained bodies here were marvelous. The camera followed that crowd of muscles.
Were my comments really necessary anymore? These naked bodies were the stars of the show.
“Talk about an incredible sight,” my nemesis Bendelio remarked from beside me.
He looked so happy. I could only assume it was because of all the captivatingly photogenic subjects taking up all this space. Ugh, your face is all glisteningly distinctive today again. Try looking tired for once. Even I’m getting tired.
He was such an unflattering man. This was the part I hated about him. I’d definitely get a punch in one day.
“It certainly is quite incredible,” I calmly responded with a nod of agreement—though deep inside, I was deeply disappointed.
They all look so good... And yet none of them had the skill to complement it. They were all show, no substance. Just as I was lamenting over how much of a sham all these men were, the peacocks of the group started making sexy poses to show off their muscles, flexing them as much as they could right in front of me.
Huh? What are you doing? Eh? Ah, I see, I see, you’re trying to show off your muscles, aren’t you? You don’t have to show them to me. Oh, wow, amazing, truly amazing. You too, very good. Your arms are so thick. Mm-hmm. Yes, yes, I’m sure you could carry a little work horse on those shoulders. I see how big your muscles are, now get your measurements and get changed. No, seriously, stop showing off muscles that look like they’d wither and die with a single good slap.
The measurement-taking and the recording continued with me putting on as polite a smile as I could muster.
“Shall we get going, Nia?”
“Okay.”
That was probably enough images of their bodies for now. I was starting to worry that the show-offs were going to pull their underwear off next. Magivision standards and best practices would absolutely not allow that.
We escaped before they could strip any further and moved on to recording the ladies. Since it wasn’t right to record them in their underwear, we had them gather in another room once their measurements were done. When we arrived... Oh, what’s this?
“Everyone, could you remain as you are? Just like that, as natural as possible.” Bendelio immediately raised his voice—he must have had the same thought as me. “Is everyone all right with us recording? If anyone would rather stay out of it, then apologies, but I must ask that you move.”
Not a single person moved.
“So...none of you mind?”
They were all looking at Bendelio, so it wasn’t simply a case of them having not heard. They’d heard and were choosing to stay where they were—that was their answer.
“We’ll begin recording, then. Don’t mind us, just relax.”
The cameras started rolling and the women all continued what they were doing. There were around twenty of them sitting in chairs around tables, waiting patiently, wearing clothing they’d been provided to be measured in.
In the preliminaries, these brave women had been armed, hair properly tied back, radiating a fighting spirit that refused to lose to the men, but that wasn’t what we saw in front of us now. It was as if they had all just come out of the baths, their expressions calm and relaxed; it appeared they’d taken off more than just their clothes.
These women were professionals who had qualified with all the rest, after all. When it was time to rest, they would rest. When it was time to give it their all, they gave it their all. Being on high alert all the time was a surefire way to exhaust yourself. If you exhausted yourself before the battle, that could spell the end of your life.
The point of these recordings was to see a different side to the fighters—we wanted to capture what they were like outside the ring. These faces would be on magivision for a long time, after all. It would be boring if we only recorded everyone when they were locked in.
The sight of these women relaxing was wonderful. Each scar that was visible on their skin gave a sense of their dramatic history, and seeing them in such light clothing felt like a glimpse into their private lives; it wasn’t an opportunity one received often.
In other words, this was a very rare sight. Even the women with larger builds—enough that they looked even more masculine than the men when fighting—looked as feminine as the rest while relaxing like this. Maybe that’s a bit rude... Basically, they weren’t always ready to strike at any time.
“And here we have our female competitors who have just had their measurements taken. Seeing them at this moment of relaxation is truly beautiful. They have dignity and strength, and yet there is a clear softness that separates them from our male fighters.”
I swiftly led the camera forward and approached the largest of the women. She had been blessed with a broad body, muscles and bones so thick that she could easily compete against the burliest of men. She was even covered in scars; just one look told you how seasoned a warrior she was. Her hair was grown out in a way that gave her a wild look, and she appeared to be in her mid-twenties... Or could she have been surprisingly younger?
If I wasn’t mistaken, she was a famous adventurer my classmates had all been calling scary. She was big and her scars stood out—to a child, she might have looked scary indeed.
“Her scars tell of the many battles she has faced and yet she still continues to fight. Isn’t she beautiful? Some might say that being inflicted with a wound is a sign of immaturity, that being left with scars is a sign of weakness. But I disagree. I believe scars are a sign that one does not always fight easy battles, a sign of a challenger who does not simply fight battles they are sure they can win. Real combat is not merciful. Just one mistake can spell the end of a life. Never fear the number of scars left on your body. Only winners come out the other side alive.”
All right, that should serve as fine commentary. I glanced at Bendelio beside the camera and he was nodding. I had gotten his approval. Good, because I wasn’t the star of the show here either.
I turned back to face the powerful woman who was silently watching me. I believe her name was Jinatan? “I must apologize for how sudden that was. Would you please allow us to use this recording?” I hadn’t given her any warning before I walked right up to her and made her the focus of the camera. Usually, if I was going to do that, we would’ve agreed on it beforehand, but since no one had walked away when Bendelio gave his warning, I chose to take that as permission. I didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere of the room by making any part of this scripted.
“I...don’t mind, no.”
That’s good. But why is she looking at me so strangely?
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
“No, it’s just...no one’s ever called me beautiful or complimented my scars before.”
Ah, she’s embarrassed.
“I really do believe you’re beautiful. There are many people out there who look up to the strong, regardless of gender.”
“But I ain’t ever been popular.”
“Are you not popular or do you just not think you’re popular? There’s more to popularity than people flirting with you, you know.”
“There’s...different ways to be popular?”
“Of course. It could be a casual sort of popularity. You could be popular in a way where people find themselves content just watching your journey from afar. I’m just a child, so I don’t understand all that much, but strong people can be popular too. Just a bit more friendliness and you’d be the perfect picture of popularity.”
“Perfect picture...?”
“It’ll be easy-peasy lemon-squeezy.”
“Easy-peasy, lemon...?”