Chapter Text
The atmosphere inside the viewing theater had settled into a reasonably positive state. Although the lingering ache from Ram’s passing remained a heavy weight in the air, a sense of quiet solace tempered their grief—the knowledge that her killers had met their end, and her death had been fully avenged, offered a grim comfort. Nearby, the two Oni sisters remained locked in a tight embrace. Their tears had finally run dry, yet neither showed any intention of letting go just yet, seeking silent reassurance in each other's presence.
"My divine self is thoroughly spent on this sentimental display. Move things along before my patience wears thin and heads begin to roll," Priscilla interjected, her voice completely devoid of tact. While she had personally found amusement in the eradication of such an unsavory clan, she had no desire to sit idly by, stagnant.
A wave of irritated glances shifted toward Priscilla, some expressions visibly more hostile than others.
"Hey, bitch, did anyone ever bother teaching you a single thing about empathy?" Felt snapped, glaring back.
"Empathy is merely another word you peasants invent to excuse your own inherent weakness. Do not make the mistake of assuming such trivial concepts apply to a goddess like myself," Priscilla replied, her lips curling into her signature arrogant smirk. An infuriated Felt looked ready to leap across the space and lunge at her, but the tension was swiftly cut short.
"I apologize for the interruption, but we cannot afford to remain distracted for long. Please, turn your attention to the screen as the next segment begins," the Warden’s disembodied voice echoed through the room. The authoritative tone successfully quieted the majority of the audience, who reluctantly resigned themselves to the entity's direction.
The screen flickered to life, initially displaying Volcanica in his downsized form. Standing just behind the divine dragon were Frederica, Anastasia, and Minerva, while Garfiel and Otto stood directly ahead, facing him.
"Ri—Aldebaran is currently located at an abandoned parking structure in Banan. He has been generating income by wagering on underground street fights," the divine dragon stated plainly.
"Hm? I had no idea my brother was the gambling type," Ricardo remarked, tilting his head.
"Well, I suppose I could always find a way to ensure the odds were in my favor," Aldebaran muttered within the theater, offering a dry jest that no one but himself truly understood. Around him, most of the room cast looks of deep distaste or outright anger; the memory of the mention that Aldebaran had betrayed his close friend, Subaru, was still entirely fresh in their minds.
Anastasia leaned forward slightly, her posture improving as she realized they were about to witness events unfolding in Kararagi. She watched closely, eager to see a setting she was genuinely familiar with.
"Street fights?" the on-screen Garfiel questioned, narrowing his eyes.
"Yes. Predominantly bouts between knights," Volcanica clarified.
"This directly violates Article 8 of the Knight's Code of Conduct," Julius informed the rest of the theater, his tone clipped. "We are strictly forbidden from participating in unsanctioned, clandestine fighting rings, and it is an even graver offense to utilize our formal titles in doing so." The others nodded in agreement, acknowledging the blatant breach of protocol.
"If it breaks the rules so thoroughly, why are we keeping this information confidential?" Otto inquired on the screen.
"The Sage candidate requested that I refrain from disclosing this matter to anyone outside of his immediate circle," Volcanica answered without hesitation. Hearing this, Garfiel and Otto nodded in understanding, fully aware that their friend was exactly the type of person to make such a request.
"Why would Subaru want someone who betrayed him to escape accountability?" Rem asked, her voice steadier now as she recovered from the previous viewing.
"For the exact same reasons your life and the existence of your entire camp were spared, maid," Priscilla countered, offering an unexpected, sharp defense of her personal buffoon.
"The participants are bound to include individuals of notable competence. Exercise caution, children," Volcanica concluded as the projection shifted, now depicting a small, overgrown park filled with dense greenery.
"Why exactly do we need to change our clothes?" Garfiel grumbled on screen, pulling on a bright orange jacket and pairing it with black trousers.
"Aldebaran was exiled from Lugnica following the events at the Pleiades Watchtower. On top of that, he is currently breaking Kararagi's laws by operating an illegal establishment. If he discovers we have ties to Lugnica, we might have to make a very hasty retreat," Otto explained. He donned a black jacket and removed his characteristic hat, allowing his pale, white hair to fall free.
"I must say, the new look suits you remarkably well, Mister Otto," Frederica commented to her companion within the theater. The compliment left Otto flushing a light crimson as he began to stammer incoherently.
"Huh?! What about me, sis?!" Garfiel demanded, visibly insulted by the distinct lack of praise directed his way.
"Garfiel looks absolutely wonderful! Mimi thinks he looks incredibly cool!" the young beast-girl chirped, leaping onto Garfiel's head and using it as a makeshift seat.
"You certainly look more presentable, brother. You should strive to maintain a proper appearance more often," Frederica added, smiling as she watched her brother attempt—and entirely fail—to detach the stubborn cat-girl from his head.
"It feels just like playing cops and robbers," Garfiel muttered under his breath on screen, recalling a game Subaru had once taught him.
"Cops and robbers? Mind enlightening us on what that entails?" Anastasia inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"It isn't anything grand, really. It is simply a game of tag with a few added rules," Beatrice answered dismissively, her attention entirely fixed on the screen as she waited to see her contractor.
"By the way, are we technically on the side of the government right now?" Garfiel asked his companion.
"We are operating in a heavy gray area, but from their perspective, we are undeniable adversaries," Otto replied, letting out a weary sigh as he mentally calculated the sheer volume of paperwork and records he would inevitably have to review once the ordeal concluded.
Before their conversation could progress further, the screen showed them approaching the entrance of the parking structure. The perimeter was guarded by two imposing, heavily built men; one was casually playing with a racket and a ball, while the other stood entirely motionless with his arms crossed over his chest.
"I just hope they don't cause too much trouble," Petra muttered, already exhausted by the sheer frequency of their predicaments.
"Is this someone who’s actually willing to cooperate, or what?" Garfiel asked on screen, cracking his knuckles.
"I cannot be certain of much, except for one detail: he is definitively not a respectable person," Otto stated. He adjusted his stance slightly, preparing his body for potential combat while making a series of peculiar, subtle clicking noises with his mouth.
"Is Otto actually planning to fight?" Emilia asked, looking thoroughly confused. It was common knowledge to everyone in the room that their Minister of Internal Affairs was absolutely not a combat specialist.
"It is entirely possible that Mister Otto acquired some martial proficiency over time. We must remember that these events take place a fair bit into the future," Wilhelm observed sagely.
"Based on those sounds, it seems I am communicating with something," Otto whispered softly to himself, analyzing his on-screen counterpart.
"And what else do we know about that idiot in the helmet?" Garfiel inquired on screen, the hostility in his voice impossible to mask.
"A group of veterans informed me that he remains an utter fool. However, Natsuki-san explicitly mentioned that the man is currently stronger than he is. I would prefer it if he cooperated with us, even if it is strictly a matter of lending us his strength," Otto shared, his tone mirroring Garfiel's resentment.
"Man, that hurts," Aldebaran complained in the theater, only to receive a barrage of annoyed glares from nearly everyone present. The sole exception was his good friend Ricardo, who attempted to offer a sympathetic pat but ended up receiving a sharp nudge to the stomach from Anastasia instead.
"Beat it, brats. This isn't a place for a casual stroll," one of the guards barked, stepping toward the two young men. "I’m going to count to three. By the time I’m done, you better be completely out of my sight, or I’ll give you a thorough thrashing."
"I absolutely despise people like him," Felt muttered.
"We require some funds. Allow us to enter the wagering competition held here," Otto demanded firmly.
Without warning, the guard lunged forward, throwing a heavy, swift punch directly at Otto’s face.
"OTTO!" Several voices, predominantly from the Emilia camp, cried out in sudden alarm for their friend.
Yet, the fist halted mere inches away from Otto's nose.
"The first rule of the underground fight club is: you do not talk about the underground fight club. Tell me, who did you hear that from? I’ll break your bones right after you start talking," the guard threatened, maintaining his imposing stature.
"I don't recall the man's name. Oh, right, because I killed him. About a month ago," Otto responded, his expression entirely deadpan as he stared directly into the guard's eyes.
"Is the merchant truly capable of such a thing?" Ferris questioned, blinking in surprise.
"Nah, judging by the way the screen-bro says it, it’s definitely a bluff," Garfiel replied, drawing upon his thorough understanding of his friend's habits to deduce the truth.
"There was a pathetic fighter who did nothing but act tough, wasn't there?" Otto continued on screen. As he spoke, a massive, swift shadow darted across the background behind the guards, completely unnoticed by either of them.
"I must admit, his performance is remarkably convincing," Yorna remarked, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"What exactly just moved back there?" Tanza asked, leaning closer.
"We will undoubtedly find out if we keep watching," Yorna replied smoothly.
'Kondo disappeared a month ago...' the other guard realized silently, setting his racket and ball aside.
"It seeeems our dear Otto-kun possessed a fair bit of luuuuck, wouldn't you say?" Roswaal chimed in, successfully retrieving his usual theatrical cadence.
"I shall fight in his stead. Or would you prefer I give you a beating right in front of your employer?" Otto challenged.
'I'm not entirely certain. Is this really fine?' the on-screen Garfiel questioned in his mind. 'I suppose if we flat out said "please guide us to your boss's hideout," it would sound incredibly suspicious. We aren't even supposed to know the man's name. It's better if I remain quiet and let Otto handle the talking. I'll step in if things take a turn for the worse.' Concluding his thoughts, Garfiel stepped up, positioning himself directly beside Otto.
"Enough. The boss gave his approval. We will place this guy directly into the seeded bracket," the second guard interjected, cutting the argument short.
"Ah, I'm glad they managed to avoid a needless brawl," Emilia said, letting out a relieved sigh.
"Yes... though knowing those two, letting them tear the entire venue down probably wouldn't have been the most ideal outcome anyway," Anastasia added dryly.
"Hey, we aren't that destructive," the theater's Otto protested.
"Yeah, bro’s right," Garfiel agreed.
"No, the two of you would absolutely find a way to reduce the entire place to rubble," Ram pointed out, her sharp tongue showing that her usual disposition was returning.
"Regardless, the one participating will be that one," the guard finished, pointing directly at Garfiel.
'That works out perfectly for us. It's much better to let Garfiel handle the actual combat anyway,' Otto thought to himself on screen. "There is absolutely no way he is going to fight," Otto stated aloud, contradicting his internal thoughts.
"Huh? Didn't you just say it was better for me to take care of it?" the theater's Garfiel asked, confused.
"If Otto simply agreed and let Garfiel walk in without a fuss, those men might suspect Garfiel was either less valuable or an intentional plant. It is far more effective to make them believe they forced the correct choice upon you," Anastasia explained.
"The boss stated he doesn't take a liking to you. If you don't agree to these terms, we can simply call this arrangement off," the guard countered.
Otto glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of a pair of crimson eyes watching them intently from the corner of a nearby structure. Within the theater, the more easily unnerved individuals felt a sudden, distinct chill run down their spines upon sensing that sharp gaze directed at them through the screen.
"Fine, then everything is settled," Otto conceded as the screen gradually faded to black.
It illuminated once more, showing Otto and Garfiel walking down a wide, utilitarian corridor.
"Bro, aren't we pushing this lie a bit too far?" Garfiel asked, clasping his hands behind his head as he walked.
"Not particularly. If there are formal knights participating, then there is bound to be a significant amount of restructuring taking place within this establishment, and more importantly..." Otto trailed off.
"That guy is here," Garfiel finished, receiving a firm nod of affirmation from Otto. "They were keeping tabs on us just a moment ago. It's highly probable he's located inside."
"Garf, you will participate in the matches and investigate what is transpiring from the inside. Infiltrating the rest of the structure is roughly a fifty-fifty gamble for me, but I will simultaneously attempt to slip further into the parking facility," Otto outlined.
"Fifty-fifty?" Garfiel repeated.
"They are suspicious of me, which is precisely why they kept me back. If I get caught, I'm entirely done for. They wouldn't afford me another shred of trust," Otto explained to his companion. "At this current juncture, we have no reliable means of contacting Aldebaran."
"If it comes down to that, we can just apprehend him by force," Garfiel stated simply.
"You really ought to abandon your habit of trying to resolve every single issue with your fists, Garf," Emilia chided gently.
"I... thank you, Princess. Though I don't exactly believe you are the most qualified person to lecture me on conflict resolution," Garfiel muttered under his breath, ensuring his comment remained quiet enough to avoid causing offense, merely speaking from the perspective of what they had witnessed throughout their time in the theater.
"That will remain our absolute last resort," the on-screen Otto emphasized. "We came here to request Aldebaran's assistance; we should refrain from taking any actions that might jeopardize our future relationship with him. To a certain extent, he could prove useful to us."
"Well, I personally couldn't care less about causing friction with that idiot," Garfiel shot back, a visible scowl forming on his face.
"Nor could I, but Natsuki-san adamantly insisted that we maintain as much cordiality as humanly possible," Otto added, scratching his head in clear exasperation at his best friend's frustratingly tedious requests.
"I find myself wondering why Subaru-dono would desire to maintain a polite rapport with someone who actively betrayed him," Crusch mused aloud, posing the question to the open room.
"Well, we are all well aware of how Subaru-kyun operates. Given that he extended forgiveness to the majority of us when we erred, it isn't entirely shocking that he would forgive another, particularly someone who originates from his very same homeland," Ferris reasoned.
"To be perfectly candid, I don't believe it is wise to make a significant move tonight. However, I cannot afford to delay and risk hitting the absolute time limit set by Oslo and Regin," Otto stated on screen, closing his eyes in evident anxiety.
"Right now, it's nearly the conclusion of the wind hour on the tenth day... leaving exactly nine days remaining until the deadline," Garfiel noted, checking a small crystal kept in his pocket.
Within the theater, Frederica quietly shifted her hand until it met Otto's, gently squeezing it in an attempt to offer reassurance. Otto flushed slightly at the gesture but accepted the comfort without a word of protest.
'It took us considerably longer than anticipated to arrive here,' Garfiel's internal monologue echoed. 'We were forced to take a lengthy detour until we managed to secure viable transport, and we had to contend with several rogue witchbeasts along the way.'
"So, tonight we need to penetrate the core of the club and make contact with aldebaran. If any complications arise, we initiate an immediate retreat," Garfiel rehearsed, verifying the parameters of the plan.
"Precisely, which is why the odds remain fifty-fifty," Otto confirmed.
"It doesn't strike me as a poorly constructed plan, though naturally, we still have a great deal left to witness," Yorna commented, taking a slow puff from her kiseru pipe.
"Man, I am seriously beginning to grow bored," Cecilus complained. His body was currently inverted, balancing his entire weight precariously on his head.
"Quiet, Cecilus," Vincent commanded, also growing somewhat weary of the prolonged setup.
The scene shifted abruptly, depicting Garfiel walking down a metallic corridor alongside the guard who had been stationed at the entrance.
"There are only two rules here: you do not run away, and you do not utilize magic," the guard stated, raising two fingers to emphasize his point.
"Why is that? I don't particularly mind if they use it against me," Garfiel countered.
"The spectators pay to see fists and feet, not fireballs and similar nonsense. Furthermore, the vast majority of the people here can barely manage a decent spell to begin with," the guard explained flatly.
"And what about the restriction on running?" Garfiel pressed.
"It simply means you fight within the boundaries where the audience can clearly see you," the guard clarified, gesturing toward the open space ahead.
As they reached the end of the corridor, the area opened up into a massive, cavernous space. At the center lay a hexagonal dirt arena entirely enclosed by heavy iron fencing, surrounded by a dense crowd of onlookers.
"Man, that doesn't look—" Ricardo began to speak within the theater, but was immediately cut short.
"Don't you dare utter a single positive remark regarding these illicit operations, Ricardo. If you do, I will deduct it directly from your wages," Anastasia warned, causing the large demi-human to nod his head in reluctant compliance.
"You keep mentioning the spectators this and the spectators that," Garfiel noted on screen.
"Naturally. They are the entire foundation of the business," the guard replied. "There are fundamentally two categories of bouts here: standard fights, like the one scheduled for today, and scripted ones. The boss coordinates the script; if you follow it precisely, you might just catch his eye."
"It is the exact same modus operandi utilized across all enterprises of this particular nature," Julius observed, completely unaware that he had adopted one of Subaru's idiosyncratic phrases.
"It remains quite thrilling if you happen to be ignorant of those underlying mechanisms," Tivey added.
The guard pointed toward the arena, and Garfiel wasted no time leaping into his designated corner. His landing kicked up a significant cloud of dust, drawing the gaze of the diverse crowd—ranging from visibly affluent elderly individuals to ordinary youths.
"And that over there is your opponent," the guard concluded, pointing across the ring. Garfiel followed his gesture, and upon recognizing a familiar silhouette, a broad grin spread across his face.
"Ricardo?! / Boss?! / Me?!" the members of the Anastasia camp exclaimed simultaneously as the large wolf demi-human stepped into the light as Garfiel's opposition.
"Garf needs to exercise extreme caution against the boss; otherwise, Mimi will personally administer a punishment," the young cat-girl warned, prompting the theater's Garfiel to silently pray that his on-screen counterpart wouldn't cross the line.
"AND ONCE AGAIN TONIGHT, WE BRING YOU A HIGH-STAKES BOUT OF THE ABSOLUTE HIGHEST CALIBER!" an announcer bellowed from a raised box overlooking the crowded arena. "A SUDDEN CONTENDER HAS APPREHENDED THE STAGE, DEAR AUDIENCE, SO BRACE YOURSELVES!"
"I hardly think that particular tone is appropriate for making such a declaration," Petra remarked dryly.
"INTRODUCING THE PERILOUS, THE MAGNIFICENT TIGER! GARFIEL TINSEL!" the announcer roared as the screen focused on a smiling Garfiel. "AND HIS OPPONENT, THE CAPTAIN OF THE IRON FANG! RICARDO WELKIN!" The projection shifted to show Ricardo, who was similarly grinning.
"I trust they will put on a performance worthy of my divine presence," Priscilla murmured.
"Man, I just hope they don't end up ruining the business layout," Aldebaran muttered, only to promptly receive a sharp kick from his mistress.
"VERY WELL, PLACE YOUR WAGERS! BETS UP, BETS UP!" The announcer's voice began to fade into the background as the perspective shifted away from the ring.
"Ten gold coins that the tiger kid takes the win," Felt declared confidently within the theater.
"Twenty gold pieces on the boss!" the cat triplets chimed in perfect unison.
"Twenty silver coins on Garfiel winning," Petra added, producing a small pouch of coins to join the wager.
"PETRA?!" Frederica gasped, looking scandalized.
"T-Two holy gold coins that Garf emerges victorious," Emilia joined in from the side, earning a brief, bewildered look from the younger children before they swiftly tallied her contribution.
"I suppose I cannot simply leave you to your own devices. Ten holy gold coins that Ricardo wins," Anastasia countered smoothly. Medium and Cecilus looked prepared to join the fray as well, but Vincent quickly intervened, stopping them both.
"I can sense that the audience isn't particularly enthralled yet," a familiar voice remarked, drawing everyone's attention back to the screen.
"And why is that, Al-sama?" a sharp-fanged young woman asked, tracing her finger lightly along the man's jawline.
The scene revealed a crimson-haired woman lounging comfortably atop a couch, draped over a man wearing a distinctive helmet, a yellow jacket reminiscent of animal fur, and a sparse beard.
'Yae is actually with me?' Aldebaran wondered internally, thoroughly perplexed by the apparent proximity between them.
'What exactly is that woman doing in a place like that?' Priscilla questioned silently.
"Man, I'm feeling a bit envious over here, pal," Ricardo joked to Aldebaran, who found himself entirely at a loss for words.
While the majority of the room expressed mild surprise at the casual revelation of Aldebaran's surrounding environment, several others found their focus entirely arrested by a completely different detail.
'Why does his demeanor bear such a striking resemblance to Beatrice's contractor? / Subaru Natsuki? / Natsuki-san? / Husband-kun? / Natsuki? / The commoner?' The identical thought crossed the minds of multiple onlookers simultaneously.
"The stars must be thoroughly tested. For them, it is only natural to lack enthusiasm when witnessing a mere demi-human adolescent square off against the captain of a mercenary brigade," Aldebaran explained smoothly on screen.
"Well, analyzed strictly from the perspective of the general public, it is true that the matchup lacks initial intrigue," Anastasia conceded.
"Once they bear witness to the sheer extent of Garfiel's prowess, I am certain they will be thoroughly astonished. I wouldn't be surprised if public opinion shifts entirely, Lady Anastasia," Reinhard noted politely.
"Well, they seem reasonably entertained to me," the woman remarked, gesturing toward the viewing pane positioned in front of them.
The perspective returned to the arena, where Ricardo and Garfiel were currently engaged in a rapid exchange of blows on the dirt floor.
"WOW! THIS IS UNQUESTIONABLY THE MOST SPECTACULAR RECOUNTER I HAVE HAD THE PRIVILEGE TO NARRATE SINCE I STARTED THIS JOB!" the announcer shouted, captivated by the sheer velocity of the combatants' strikes.
"Psst, did you actually manage to secure a conversation with that guy?" Garfiel inquired in a low whisper that only Ricardo could discern over the noise.
"No, they still haven't permitted me to speak with him despite my persistent demands. Besides, he knows me inside out, so I doubt he's overly concerned," Ricardo whispered back, parrying a strike. "However, I did manage to ascertain that he is invariably accompanied by a highly dangerous woman. I couldn't extract any further details. You're actively concealing the fact that you're affiliated with the royal camps, correct?"
"Yeah, obviously," Garfiel muttered, halting one of Ricardo's incoming fists.
In a sudden movement, Garfiel seized Ricardo firmly by the hips and hoisted him directly upward, prompting a collective roar of excitement from the surrounding spectators. Capitalizing on his raw physical strength, Garfiel leaped into the air and began delivering a flurry of strikes against Ricardo—though it remained entirely evident to discerning eyes that the blows carried no genuine intent to harm.
Within the theater, the younger audience members—including a certain four-hundred-year-old spirit—looked thoroughly captivated by the grand display. Not a single soul, not even Priscilla, felt inclined to ruin the moment by pointing out the obviously staged nature of the performance.
"I shall... er..." Garfiel attempted to deliver a grand, sweeping declaration on screen, but found himself entirely devoid of inspiration as they both descended back to the ground. "I shall end you, foul beast!" he bellowed in a highly exaggerated, theatrical war cry.
"That actually stung a bit," Ricardo whispered under his breath. "I'll make sure to send you straight back to the nursery, brat! Hua-hua-hua!" he laughed aloud, doing his absolute best impression of a textbook villain.
"Ricardo, your acting is absolutely dreadful. / You desperately need to refine your performance, Garf," Anastasia and Frederica commented respectively to their companions, delivering a swift blow to both men's pride.
On the screen, Garfiel transitioned to pin the large wolf demi-human beneath him, executing a series of rapid kicks that Ricardo focused on blocking with his forearms.
"HIT HIM HARDER, YOU WEIRD KID!"
"GET BACK UP, WOLF!"
"DON'T YOU DARE LOSE, I WAGERED MY ENTIRE PENSION ON YOU!"
The conflicting shouts of the captivated audience echoed throughout the venue, entirely enthralled by the spectacle. Finally, Garfiel delivered a firm punch straight to Ricardo's midsection, prompting the large demi-human to propel himself backward, perfectly feigning that the force of the impact had sent him flying.
"GAAAH! The Demi-Human Protection Association will hear about this!" the wolf demi-human groaned dramatically from the dirt floor.
"AND THE VICTOR IS NONE OTHER THAN THE MAGNIFICENT TIGER! MY EYES ARE UTTERLY BLESSED BY THIS MARVELOUS DISPLAY OF COMBAT!" the announcer concluded, as a portion of the crowd erupted into cheers while others cursed their financial losses.
A chorus of amazed praise and excitement rippled through the younger members of the theater. Even the usually reserved children, such as Schult or Tanza, appeared thoroughly enchanted by the bout, inducing a brief wave of shared warmth between certain parental figures in the room.
The screen depicted Garfiel executing a thoroughly ridiculous victory dance to the rhythm of the applause, only for the audio to shift, capturing the voice of another individual.
"Once they conclude, bring Garfiel directly up to the terrace," a man commanded through a metia device. "Why? Because that kid is going to win every single match we set up for him." With those final words, the individual departed.
The scene transitioned once more, returning to Aldebaran resting on the same couch alongside Yae.
"More importantly, he moved in a fashion that effortlessly commanded the attention of every single high-tier spectator above, particularly those possessing holy coins," Aldebaran remarked into the same metia his subordinate had utilized moments prior. "I could honestly compose an entire manual of strategies based on that guy. Haven't I always told you? 'We strike precisely when the wolf is asleep.' Let's proceed with exactly that." As he spoke, a string of text began to materialize directly beneath him.
“Aldebaran, ◼︎◼︎◼︎◼︎◼︎ ◼︎◼︎◼︎◼︎◼︎◼︎◼︎”
However, the moment the final words were set to be revealed, a harsh, loud burst of static interrupted the audio, preventing anyone from discerning the text.
"Hey! What the hell was that?!" Felt complained, pressing her hands tightly over her ears to block out the jarring noise.
"I apologize, but I am restricted from disclosing that particular information at this current juncture," the Warden's voice explained smoothly.
"That sounds incredibly foolish, Al-sama. Would you mind holding your tongue?" the woman beside him chided on screen.
'Since when does that woman possess such insolent boldness?' Priscilla wondered silently, refraining from speaking aloud to avoid exposing her thoughts.
A small informational text box materialized beneath the woman on screen.
“Yae Tenzen, former kunoichi, currently missing.” The presentation effectively revealed her identity to everyone gathered within the theater.
"Yes, but what exactly are we supposed to do regarding the other idiot?" the man on screen continued, entirely oblivious to the fact that Otto was currently positioned directly beneath his feet, concealed inside an underground hiding spot that blended seamlessly with the surrounding structure.
"Wow, where on earth did you manage to acquire a skill like that, bro?" Garfiel asked, thoroughly impressed.
"I don't have the slightest inkling. You must remember that this version of myself belongs to the future," Otto reminded him, causing Garfiel to nod in realization and offer a quick apology.
"Regardless of the specific manner in which it was mastered, it represents an exceptionally potent capability for intelligence gathering, not to mention it must demand an incredibly sophisticated application of magic," Anastasia analyzed thoughtfully.
"Maintain a vigilant guard. I shall dispatch Yae to patrol alongside you," Aldebaran instructed on screen, entirely disregarding the sharp look of discontent from the woman beside him. "My chest tightens merely pondering the prospect. The last time I experienced a sensation quite like this, the Princess went on a shopping spree and forced me to settle the entire balance on borrowed credit."
"Cease discussing her," Yae muttered sharply, a hint of clear jealousy in her tone as the screen finally went dark, leaving the room in silence