“Might I add another question?”
It was Sheep who’d spoken up now. He was a small old man, and unfortunately for Boar, another fighter already known to her—although she had understood him to be retired.
He might be older than even Duode … whoever, Boar thought, her internal monologue stumbling over the judge’s name. Sheep is practically a legend. Not only did I assume he had retired, I half expected him to be dead by now. I hate to complain, but his being here is going to be a problem.
Sheep continued, “My combat style is … how could I put it? A bit fierce, I’d say. This isn’t the time or place to show my hand, of course, but you see, I’ve come prepared to utilize some high explosives, should the need arise. Of course, I’ll try to avoid such occasions, but what happens if, contrary to my intentions, I happen to destroy an orb in the process of obtaining it?”
For supposedly not showing his hand, the old man had gone out of his way to make it clear he had explosives. Hiding the attempt at intimidating the other fighters behind a question was a crafty ploy from a veteran conniver.
That’s just what I despise about him. But I could ask the question about my machine guns too. The ammo could easily shatter such jewels.
“Have no fear,” the judge said. “The poison gems will only react with fresh human stomach acid. Nothing else can harm them—no matter how destructive the physical force may be. If you would like, you may test it for yourself.”
“No, no,” Sheep said. “There’s no need for that. Your word is good enough for me.” No need to press the issue—his question had achieved its intended purpose. Besides, this was the Zodiac War, and its combatants would be bringing a grand assortment of destructive forces beyond explosives and bullets. The organizers wouldn’t have prepared gems so easily broken.
“I have one last question,” Ox said, reclaiming control of the discussion. “We’ve all put these durable little gems into our bodies. How are we supposed to collect them now?”
Duodecuple replied, “I’ll leave the method up to your own abilities and judgments, but if I might offer a suggestion, I would think slitting open the stomach to be the simplest solution.”
With a bow simultaneously fawning and snobbish, the judge of the Zodiac War said, “You are all world-class fighters, tenacious and resilient. May you find the victory you seek.” And then he was gone—as if he had never been there at all.
Then, just as Boar began considering how she could best seize the upper hand, another fighter spoke up, interrupting her thoughts.
“Everyone, may I have your attention?”
It was Monkey.
She had clearly caught the other fighters off guard and easily claimed the first move. She spoke with a congenial smile vastly out of place amid the tense atmosphere that only thickened after Duodecuple’s speech.
“I have a proposal,” she said. “Under the rules of this Zodiac War, none of us need to die—as long as we all cooperate.”
Such a ridiculous suggestion hardly came as a surprise from Monkey. Boar could all too easily see what the woman was thinking.
How magnanimous, as always. She’s surely scheming up some kind of collusion, like deciding on a winner who will then use their one and only wish to bring everyone else back to life. Just like her to sell an obvious idea as if it were something brilliant. As if anyone would waste a precious wish on something so frivolous as reviving the others.
“Can I count on anyone to cooperate?”
What is this, a charity drive? Boar felt herself getting angry at Monkey’s tone, but then let it go. Whether or not Monkey was being genuine, the woman was making herself stand out. She had placed herself squarely in the middle of the other fighters’ crosshairs. While the other fighters focused on taking Monkey out, Boar could take her sweet time perfecting her plan of action.
Then one hand slowly made its way upward. Someone was actually offering to join her.
It was the sleepy youth.
Come on, kid, can’t you see the opening she’s handing to you? What kind of warrior are you?
Even now the boy’s head sagged and jolted back up, as if he might fall back asleep at any moment. “I’d like nothing better,” he said, his speech torpid and halting—more like talking in his sleep than anything else, “than to get through this … without anyone dying.”
Boar started to get the feeling she’d heard his voice somewhere, but no actual memories stirred, even when he continued. “But let me guess your plan … You want us to make you the winner … then you’ll bring us all back to life?”
It was a plan easier said than done. As for the familiarity of his voice, Boar chalked it up to just her imagination.
“That’s not quite what my plan is,” Monkey replied, her cheerful voice buoyed by the show of support. “If we do it that way, some of you might harbor doubts that I will hold up my end. My method comes with better assurances.”
Hmph. All right, maybe she used that monkey brain to actually think about this.
As much as she derided the woman in her thoughts, Boar hadn’t a clue as to Monkey’s plan. Despite holding an unquenchable hatred toward the serial meddler, Boar certainly didn’t discount her as a threat, and she knew she had to do more than just stand by and watch this development.
But while Boar was contemplating the situation, two more raised their hands, one after the other, to join the sleepy youth.
This is bad. Now Ox and Chicken are joining in.
Then another slowly lifted his hand—a massive man unknown to Boar. With the boy and Monkey, that made five. Nearly half the assembled forces. The youth had probably joined in out of gratitude toward Monkey for waking him up, or some other equally childish reason, but his actions had prodded the fighters from merely scoping each other out into suddenly taking action. Simply watching and letting this happen was a failure Boar could never undo. Whether or not Monkey’s scheme could succeed, this battle royale was about to start with nearly half the players forming an alliance. Any way Boar looked at it, this was not good news to her. Worse yet was Ox’s presence in their number—even alone, he posed a major threat.
I have to do something to stop this right now. One more hand, and their alliance will number six out of eleven.
But to unleash two machine guns with reckless abandon and plunge the room into chaos would not be principled. To remain true to herself required fighting with elegance and style.
Fortunately, Boar didn’t have to do anything. A sixth fighter raised his hand. Rather, he raised a blood-stained sword. It was the sword-wielding man with the menacing stare. In quick response, Ox, Chicken, and the giant quietly lowered their hands. The sword-wielder’s participation had driven three from the armistice plan. Boar wasn’t surprised. Even if that man’s sword had been clean of blood, he gave off such an unmistakable aura of danger that anyone who failed to notice it could hardly be considered a fighter.
“All right,” Monkey said. “Thank you. I’m just happy that two other peace-seekers are here. Everyone else—if you ever change your mind, you’re always welcome to seek me.”
In no conceivable scenario was that bladed man raising his arm with any form of sincerity, and here she was welcoming him. Was she so lacking a fighter’s instincts? And that tired boy—did he keep his hand up because he felt it was too late to withdraw?
Monkey continued, “Now, why don’t you two come over here, and we can—”
Movement. Someone other than Boar must have decided this had gone on long enough. Perhaps that person considered a team of three to be still a team that needed to be broken up before it could form.
It happened so suddenly Boar couldn’t tell who had done it, or how, but the next instant the floor split apart.
To the surprise of everyone but the mystery instigator, the fighters found the ground separate from their feet. As each recovered from their shock, they responded to the sudden forced descent in their own ways.