The girl with purple hair leapt lightly from a wooden crate to follow him, her steps supple and bursting with energy. Unlike his provoking grin, her smile was bright, genuine, and overflowing with spirit. She raised her hand high, waving to the crowd as though on stage, and called out in a loud, carefree voice:
"Everyone… don't take him seriously! He only knows how to have fun by teasing people."
Some of the teens laughed, while Mabushi shot her an annoyed look. She didn't care. Instead, she skipped closer, placed a hand behind her head, and turned to the man with the potatoes, flashing a playful grin:
"Don't worry, uncle… I'm sure you'll eat in peace if you just leave half the bag for us."
Light chuckles spread through the crowd, the tension Mabushi had stirred fading under her liveliness. Yet there was no naivety in her manner—only a daring boldness.
Mabushi dropped onto a stone bench, legs spread, arms hanging loose. He raised a hand to rub his face with a heavy sigh, as if wiping away the weight of the world. For a brief moment, his hazel eyes, usually brimming with insolence, carried something heavier—something he would not voice.
The girl sat beside him, back straight, violet eyes scanning the crowd with childlike curiosity. Her legs swung freely, unfitting to the charged atmosphere. After a short silence, Mabushi glanced at her, a fleeting look that hid something deeper, before he muttered, half serious, half mocking:
"Ann…"
Her face lit up at the sound of her name. She arched a brow and turned to him.
"Yes? What is it?"
Mabushi lowered his voice, leaning forward, his features slipping back into the reckless boldness everyone knew:
"When our group is chosen… we'll play our usual game. Let the others fight for leadership and honor while we pull the strings. Our goal isn't to show off here, but what comes after… raiding the army's site, using our teammates to get what we want. Each one of them is just a tool—until they prove otherwise."
Ann's face broke into a wide smile, her violet eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Heh! That sounds fun… I love it when you plan something that stirs up chaos."
By now, whispers rippled among the onlookers. Some traded curious glances, others stifled laughter.
"Look at them… she must be his girlfriend."
"No way she'd stick with him like that if she weren't."
"What sane girl would fall for that scoundrel?!"
The words reached Ann's ears. Her smile froze, her cheeks flared red with anger. She shot up to her feet, fists clenched, her voice cutting through the noise like an arrow:
"You idiots! There's no way I'd ever be the girlfriend of this arrogant delinquent!"
The crowd faltered, some chuckling awkwardly, while Mabushi burst into roaring laughter. Leaning back on the bench, he slapped his knee and sneered:
"Hahaha! Oh, Ann… your denial makes it even worse!"
But Ann, stubborn as ever, crossed her arms and turned away sharply.
"Let them think what they want. The truth is, I'm the last person who'd ever fall for you."
Mabushi kept laughing, while the crowd grew more curious, failing to see that what bound these two together wasn't love… but something far more dangerous.
From the edge of the plaza, Akio watched the strange duo who had stolen everyone's attention. A small smile crept onto his face as his thoughts whispered inside him:
'People here really are strange… nothing like those I've known. But they're… just like me.'
He clenched his fist lightly, his expression glowing with resolve.
'This is what I need… people who aren't like the rest… people I might find my path with!'
Ken sat on a stone chair, legs crossed, leaning forward slightly. He lit another cigarette, fixing it between his lips as smoke drifted slowly upward. His eyes didn't see the crowd—they stared into emptiness. His inner voice was calm, focused:
'All this is just a step… a step to grow stronger. This trial isn't the end, but the means. I must come out of it different… different enough.'
He inhaled deeply, then exhaled in a slow stream, ash scattering from the tip.
'One day… I'll reclaim everything that was stolen from me. But until then… I endure, until the day of reckoning comes.'
A booming voice rang out from loudspeakers across the plaza, startling even the birds circling the stone statue into flight. All eyes lifted to the stone tower at the corner, where a stern man in his forties stood tall. Broad-shouldered, clad in a black coat whipping with the wind, he spoke with the weight of someone who measured every word:
"Ahem… ahem… Sons and daughters of Valoria, welcome to this year's first annual selection. You are all here because you aspire to greatness… but only those who prove worthy will prevail."
He paused, sweeping his gaze across the gathered youth before continuing:
"Twenty groups will be formed, each with only five members. That means many of you will return disappointed, because space is limited… and worthiness isn't a slogan spoken by the tongue, but something proven by action."
He raised his right hand high, pointing to the sky, his voice harder than steel:
"In this place, there is no room for the weak or the hesitant. Those who cannot endure—leave now. The rest… prepare yourselves, for you are about to face the trial that will decide your fate."
The plaza fell into breathless silence, each youth waiting for what would come next. Then his tone sharpened with finality:
"We are not here to test only your fighting skills, but your ability to work as one, to plan, to endure, to use your minds when all else fails."
His voice thundered over the plaza like a commandment:
"These groups are not for games or show, but to build a new order for the continent's future, led by its youth without guardianship. Aim to crush injustice, and cast traitors from their thrones!"
The crowd erupted, chanting in unison like a single body:
"Crush injustice! Cast out the traitors!"
"Crush injustice! Cast out the traitors!"
"Crush injustice! Cast out the traitors!"
Akio glanced around, puzzled. Not a single person hesitated to shout, but he stayed silent, not yet knowing the creed of this place or the weight of its words. As the chants faded, silence spread again. Then, suddenly, Akio threw his arm high and waved it, shouting at the top of his lungs:
"Crush injustice! Cast out the traitors!"
But this time… he was the only one. His voice echoed awkwardly in the still air, the lone discordant note against a wall of silence. A few heads turned with scorn; others hid their laughter. Yet Akio stood tall, arm raised, smile wide, unaware that he looked like the fool who missed the rhythm.
Ken, watching, dipped his head quickly, hiding a sudden grin behind his hand as he brought it to his lips. His shoulders trembled, suppressing a laugh before regaining his cold composure. He exhaled smoke as though nothing had happened.
Up on the tower, a bead of sweat slid down the man's cheek. He cleared his throat into the mic, voice strained as he tried to regain his presence:
"Anyway… let us proceed to the next stage."