Fressa snorted at that, seeming to have accepted his reason. “I see. So they’re letting you roam free because you seem useful. Well, I suppose you aren’t wearing a disguise. It’d be easy to dig up your dirt.” She paused for a moment before asking, “Do you think they’ve already figured me out too?”
“Seems pretty likely, don’t it? Do you think the guys up top are stupid? You’ve been bringin’ a lot of attention to yourself too.”
It only made sense that the organizers would’ve done their research into the fighters that had made it this far in the tournament. If they’d won this many matches, then they had to be strong enough to be a real threat to the country if they became their enemy.
Who are they? Where are they from? What organization do they belong to? What is their nationality? What do they do for a living? What had they achieved? It was natural for a government to want to know such things and, unless they were stupid, they’d absolutely do their research. If that talent was yet to be loyal to any one organization, they’d want to take them for themselves.
That was why Anzel was pretty sure his identity as a criminal with a shady record was already known.
“Ain’t it about time for you to call it?”
The only reason Anzel had called Fressa out here was to bribe her. To be fair to her, he would probably have called it himself under ordinary circumstances. If he wasn’t here on Kaffes’s orders, he’d be on his way out already. In fact, he might not even have participated in the tournament in the first place.
“Yeah, I know. I should’ve called it a loooong time ago, to be honest. I don’t want to drop out with nothing, though.”
Naturally, Fressa had chosen to heed his call knowing this was likely what he’d wanted to discuss.
“Give me one hundred million exactly.”
So she decided to be blunt about it.
“No interest. You can pay it in installments if you need to. You have to pay me at least ten million annually, though. If you accept those conditions, I’ll drop out.”
“Got it. Sounds fine to me.” Anzel’s response was immediate. “Lynokis agreed to give us all a share of the prize money if she won, right? I’ll give mine right to you.”
“And if she doesn’t win?”
“Then I’ll pay with my winnings. If neither of us win, well...I’ll probably already be halfway out the country. Just because I’m runnin’ from Altoire, though, doesn’t mean I intend to run from you. More like I doubt I can. I’m well aware of how terrifyin’ you can be.”
When Fressa was dead set on a target, they’d never get away. She did used to make a living as a freelance assassin, and she’d been good at her job. Not only was she strong physically, but she was strong mentally too. She would do anything she put her mind to, and she would kill anyone she’d sworn to kill. As far as Anzel was aware, she’d never given up on a single commission she’d taken on, and she’d never messed up either. She often argued with clients when the situation was much different than the one they’d described, but that was because she was rigid with her boundaries when it came to her work.
It was the fact that she never wavered that was so terrifying. She might have looked frivolous and carefree, but in reality, she was quite heavy-handed and persistent. Once her interest had been piqued, she refused to let go, very rarely giving up.
Long story short, Fressa was someone Anzel never wanted to make his enemy.
“If I disappear, come look for me. I know that you can find anyone you want so long as they ain’t dead. I’ll pay you when you find me. I’ll put the money aside for you.”
He knew what he was saying was absurd. But if he was on the run, there would be no way to predict where he’d end up. He would just be running for his life, no matter where it took him. He wouldn’t have the leeway to decide on specific destinations or meeting spots. If he had the time to think, then he needed to be running. He’d seen far too many underworld dwellers think they were finally safe and let their guard down, only to immediately be caught. If you were on the run, you had to run with every fiber of your being. Every. Single. Fiber.
“Huh... Well, okay. Whatever the case, that’s a hundred million decided.” After that, Fressa walked off into the shadows, just as suddenly and silently as when she’d arrived.
“Champion, huh...?”
Just two or three more matches. If he kept winning, he’d have five hundred million krams in his possession. He’d somehow managed to get so far that it really felt within reach.
Though it was debatable if he would even be eligible to receive it now that they knew what he was...
But now that he’d made it this far, he had to see it through.
The next morning, Fressa told the staff that she was feeling unwell and would be dropping out. The moment she delivered that message, she took the first flight off the tournament island.
We were now on day seven—the fifth round. It was time for the semifinals, which meant we had four matches left. There were two matches each for the weapon and bare-handed divisions to decide who would fight in tomorrow’s finals.
To be honest...none of the matches today are that exciting. It seemed likely that my predicted winners would go through. There would be no sudden upsets.
The tournament island was crowded again. The Liston crew was hanging around waiting to record any interactions between the visitors and the fighters, but...unsurprisingly, all the voices we could hear were people excited for the final rounds. They were debating who would win: “Hmm, I think Leeno’s the strongest.” “Gandolph’s pretty wild himself.” Or being truly disappointed that Fressa had dropped out. Or mumbling my brother’s name while walking around...
Wait, who was that?! You’re that guy with the deep voice that keeps calling my brother’s name, aren’t you?! You’re that threat to his life! Shit, I can’t tell who he is! He should be nearby!
...
Calm down. Don’t let your killing intent out. People will get suspicious. If you can’t find him, just let him go for now.
That aside...though everyone had high hopes for the matches, unfortunately for them, it was hard to think that today’s matches wouldn’t end in a flash. It was a result of the matchups, so I wasn’t about to start complaining, but... No. Today might be boring, but the finals were guaranteed to be fun. There was no mistake about that. With that in mind, maybe I could forgive how boring today’s matches would be. That was what I would tell myself.
Still, I had to remark on the fact that we had a full house again today... Were people really so willing to come all this way for four matches? Did they want to see them so bad that they were willing to pay the extortionate price? The next day would only be the finals, you know?
Hmm... All right, I guess I may as well try to help with a little fan service myself!
Today’s matches might not be worth talking about, but I at least needed to let them go home with a fun memory!
Day eight, time for the sixth round—the finals of this tournament. Yesterday’s semifinals went as expected: anticlimactic and ending in the blink of an eye.
But today’s matches would be something else.
“We have finally reached the last day of the tournament. It’s time for the finals!”