That night, Pompey and his group did not return to their own city. With the Tour de Inferno just around the corner, they chose to set up camp nearby instead.
Phaga and Ellen, however, had no such need. After some consideration, they decided to head back to the city of the Vanquishers and stay the night there, planning to attend the Tour de Inferno ceremony the next day.
It was time to part ways.
Pompey had other matters to attend to, so the one who came to see them off was Lucius, the Vanquishers' second-in-command.
He took the initiative and extended his hand toward Phaga, intending to shake it.
"My apologies, Director. We've been quite busy, and our hospitality may have fallen short."
"It's fine. I understand."
Lucius's hand hovered in front of him for quite some time, yet Phaga hesitated. His right hand, tucked inside his suit jacket, lingered there for a long moment before finally coming out.
It was almost as if he found Lucius distasteful—as though he were some unsophisticated country bumpkin from the Outer Ring.
Lucius raised an eyebrow, but showed not the slightest hint of irritation.
As expected of a city businessman who's seen the world… completely unconcerned with how Outer Ringers feel. Such naked prejudice… I'm almost envious…
As that thought crossed his mind, Lucius suddenly felt someone pat his shoulder. He looked up.
"Hey, snap out of it. What are you spacing out about?"
Lucius immediately came back to his senses. The moment he raised his head, he saw Phaga's tightly furrowed brows as he impatiently tapped his shoulder.
Lucius's heart lurched. His expression changed instantly, his face blooming into an ingratiating smile.
"Oh—sorry, sorry. I got a bit distracted… Director, you know how it is. Tomorrow's the Tour de Inferno. I got a little excited."
"Is that so? I thought something was bothering you."
Phaga didn't bother saying anything more. He turned and headed for the car, tossing out a casual remark.
"Ellen, let's go."
"Oh, coming."
Ellen immediately followed when she heard him. As she brushed past Lucius, her tail flicked out unintentionally, smacking hard against his calf.
A sharp intake of breath echoed across the open wilderness.
"Sorry. Didn't notice you there."
Ellen turned back indifferently, her gaze cold as she looked at Lucius.
"Do you need me to take you to a doctor?"
"No, no need."
Lucius waved his hands repeatedly. The blow from the shark tail had not been light—it hurt badly enough to make his face twist—but he still forced himself to keep up appearances, pretending it didn't hurt at all.
As though the sweat beading on his forehead didn't exist, Lucius waved goodbye to Phaga and Ellen.
Soon, the off-road vehicle roared away, kicking up layers of yellow sand as it vanished into the boundless wilderness.
A dusky wind swept across the land, slowly erasing the tire tracks, tinting the blue sky with sand, and carrying the setting sun into twilight, where it sank into the sea of dunes.
Night fell quietly.
"Still no contact from the Class President and Ruby?"
Inside the inn room, Phaga lowered his gaze. He caught the faint scent of orchids lingering in Ellen's hair. After a day of travel, grains of sand still clung here and there, but as the night cooled, the air carried a soft, moonlit fragrance.
"No. It keeps showing they're outside the signal zone. Do you think they went into a Hollow?"
Leaning against Phaga's shoulder, Ellen's face was lit by the faint glow of her phone screen. Her small nose wrinkled slightly with worry.
With the Black-White Dolls accompanying them, Ellen was actually more afraid that they'd gone somewhere remote and uninhabited for excitement than she was of them entering a Hollow.
After all, places without signal weren't limited to Hollows. This was the Outer Ring—dead zones were everywhere.
"Try asking the Vanquishers. See if Ruby and the Class President mentioned where they were going."
Phaga gently wrapped an arm around Ellen to calm her and offered the suggestion.
"I'll try… Wow, they replied really fast. They said Ruby and the Class President went into a nearby Hollow to mess around."
Ellen couldn't help but admire the Vanquishers' efficiency, and her heart settled quite a bit.
With the Black-White Dolls there, as long as it wasn't some absurdly massive super-sized Hollow, Ruby and the Class President wouldn't be in danger.
"There. Feeling better now?"
"Yeah, a lot better. Oh right, Phaga—about that city partner Lucius mentioned. Who do you think it could be?"
"No idea. But before we parted ways with the Vanquishers, I already planted a listening device on him."
"Huh? That fast? I thought you hadn't, so I planted one too."
"Is that so? Then I'll leave the monitoring to you. I'm going back to sleep—ah! Let go, let go! I'll stay, okay? Just let go already!"
"Hmph!"
...
Elsewhere in the Outer Ring, at the Vanquishers' camp.
"Boss, this is the new route allocation chart. I followed your instructions and assigned the extra three routes to Calydon… but is this really necessary?"
Beside the blazing campfire, Lucius stared at the chart where three routes had been marked off and given away. His fists clenched tighter and tighter with resentment.
"If the Sons of Calydon hadn't been so consistently unlucky, I wouldn't have had to go to such lengths."
Pompey was organizing documents with his head lowered. Suddenly, he turned his gaze back, his eyes sharp and heavy as he spoke in a low voice.
"Lucius, what do you think about the Sons of Calydon's persistent bad luck over the years?"
"My thoughts…? What thoughts could I have, Boss? It's just an accident. All you can say is that the Sons of Calydon are unlucky."
Cold sweat broke out across Lucius's back. It felt as though a mountain were pressing down on him, his chest so heavy he could barely breathe.
Fortunately, Pompey quickly withdrew his gaze.
"Is that so? Good. Wanting to win isn't a bad thing. But since we sit in the position of overlords, we should at least uphold some sense of morality. Lucius—what do you think?"
Pompey continued sorting through the documents. His words sounded both like a warning to Lucius and a reminder to himself.
"Yes, Boss. I always keep your words in mind."
Lucius nodded repeatedly. In front of Pompey, he was as meek as a chick, not daring to show even a hint of discontent.
No sooner had he been reprimanded than Lucius lifted a kettle of hot water and poured Pompey a cup.
Palm down, fingers pinching the rim, he set it carefully on the desk.
"Boss, have some water first."
"Mhm."
Pompey gave a slight nod, showing no suspicion at all. He took the cup and drank half of it in one go, then seemed to remember something and turned to look at Lucius.
"And if I recall correctly, you said you'd just come back from the city, and that you'd found a merchant to cooperate with?"
"I remember telling you before—when it comes to business, every single merchant in the city could run circles around us. You must be careful. Extremely careful. Until you're certain of their character, you can't let your guard down."
Lucius immediately laughed, spreading his hands.
"Don't worry, Boss Pompey. I've fully confirmed their sincerity. They've never made excessive demands—they're genuinely aiming for mutual benefit."
"Besides, city folk aren't stupid. We've kept the Outer Ring tightly sealed off. Even if they see it's a blue ocean, all they can do is watch. In the end, they'll still have to cooperate with us for mutual gain."
"…Let's hope so."
Pompey pinched the bridge of his nose and turned toward the tent.
"I'm going to rest. Tomorrow's the Tour de Inferno. You should turn in early too."
"Understood, Boss Pompey."
Lucius replied with a light chuckle. The moment he turned away, however, his expression turned cold as he headed out on foot.
A patrolling subordinate noticed something off and called out.
"Second-in-command, where are you headed this late at night?"
"Looking for a quiet spot to relieve myself."
Lucius waved dismissively and continued walking.
The patrolman was left standing in the wind, completely confused.
"That's strange. Isn't there a restroom in the camp?"
Scratching his head, he hesitated, unsure whether he should report this to Boss Pompey.
Suddenly, a shadow loomed over him.
A bone-chilling cold surged through his body. His heart skipped a beat as he stiffly turned his head.
In the next instant, a tuft of gray fur filled his vision. The bloodthirsty gleam unique to a Wolf Thiren flared from those eyes, seizing the soul.
"Why are you slacking off here instead of patrolling? Hm?"
Mors had appeared behind him at some point. Unlike his usual calm demeanor, he was vicious tonight, as if he might devour someone whole.
Faced with Mors like this, the patrolman hurriedly tried to explain.
"No, I just saw the Second-in-command, he—"
"Hm?"
"S-sorry! I'll go back to patrolling right away!"
Another cold snort followed, laced with overwhelming fury. The patrolman nearly had his legs give out as he scrambled away to resume his patrol.
"Hmph."
Mors snorted coldly and turned back toward the tents.
He, too, would be participating in the Tour de Inferno. He needed proper rest.
Elsewhere, Lucius had already reached the desolate outskirts. Seeing the two figures ahead—one tall, one short—he couldn't help but smile.
"Only a single day apart, and I've already missed you both terribly, Mr. Perlman, and…"
"Mr. Kovei Kunmutu."