[793] Beta Fish (3)
* * *
"Up! Get up!"
When Jeystin flung the guild doors open, her subordinates were sleeping on the ruined floor.
"Everyone, wake up, you good-for-nothings!"
Six men and one woman pushed themselves up, faces still groggy.
"Ugh, my stomach. Why's it so noisy this early?"
The one-eyed man wrinkled his nose at the smell of vomit from the night before and glared at Jeystin.
"What? This early in the morning?"
Jeystin chambered a magical round into her gun.
"As if that's something someone who makes a living in my guild can say."
At the sight of the gun's muzzle, their vacant expressions snapped to attention and they scrambled to their feet.
"Move! You'll get killed!"
Those who scattered shut their eyes tight, bracing for the blast of the magi-bullet.
"Get up. Seriously."
Jeystin sighed and lowered the gun.
All members of Jeystin's mercenary band sat around the round table inside the guild, its walls barely blocking the wind with wooden planks.
"So, we're assigned to guard the most beautiful women in the world?" the one-eyed man asked incredulously.
"Yeah. Of course, only I can go into the waiting room. The six of you will handle the outside security."
Having failed to catch the blackmailer, the Arakne government threw everything it had into protection.
They had to pull from whatever forces were available, and the fact that Jeystin was a woman worked in their favor.
A woman at the counter asked, "How much are they paying?"
"It's performance-based. But the retainer alone covers the guild's fees. And if this goes well, the mercenary band's name will rise."
The one-eyed man's eye brightened.
"So you mean… we're finally getting out into the world?"
It was the revival of Jeystin's mercenary band.
"Yeah. It was decided in a hurry, but we'll make rehearsal time. Briefing in the lot in ten minutes."
* * *
The world beauty pageant venue had separate waiting rooms for contestants and staff.
"Hoo… hoo…"
Maya, about to make her debut, sat in the guest singer's room, panting.
Why am I like this? My heart's racing so fast.
Palmeres, the agency head, entered and handed Maya a sedative.
"Still nervous?"
"Yes. But… I'll be fine."
She couldn't show weakness after so many people had worked toward this day.
"Calm down. You practiced hard. There were no mistakes in rehearsal. You'll do fine."
I should have messed up instead, Maya thought. The fact everything had been polished so perfectly made her more anxious—this was her first professional stage.
"Shirone…"
Maya opened the sheet music titled "Light Rain."
It was a song expressing the feeling of falling for Shirone—the image of light pouring like rain from the sky.
As Maya read the lyrics and visibly calmed, Palmeres licked his lips.
"Whoever that person is, they're blessed."
When he first read the lyrics she submitted, everyone involved knew they weren't just pretty words.
"This is only the beginning. Let go of greed and just throw your heart into it."
Palmeres slipped out quietly.
Contestant waiting room.
Thirty-two countries' representatives gathered in one room—a silent battlefield.
The female security detail all thought the same thing.
"This one won't be easy to control."
Miss Vaiden, sitting in her underwear with her legs splayed, complained in boredom.
"Sigh, so boring."
No one answered. A social butterfly by nature, she felt suffocated.
"If only I could sneak a smoke…"
With competitors watching every move, she couldn't risk it.
She stretched and yawned, exposing her armpit, then glanced at Miss Tormia beside her.
Tormia had golden hair, a broad forehead, and eyebrows like burnished gold.
"Hey, doesn't it feel constricting wearing that dress this early? You'll have to change anyway."
Alfred Pony closed her book and said, "Royal dignity knows no time or place."
"You're royalty?"
Pony had failed Tormia Magic School's graduation exam—knocked out by Maya's irregularity—and had taken a leave of absence.
"This was the best choice I could make."
Failing the exam was a shock, but she'd learned what the world was like when her family had leaned on Shirone.
"If I win, I'll finally be part of the privileged class."
In any country, the pageant winner received government favor, which tied directly to royal influence.
"Really, are you actually royalty? Do handsome men bow and scrape to you?"
Pony, uninterested, tried to reopen her book when a hand suddenly reached out before her face.
She looked up to see Miss Arakne approaching with a bright smile.
"Hello. I'm Barho Rangi."
The Arakne kingdom had produced many international winners; Rangi was a strong contender.
"I'm Alfred Pony. I can't say I'm glad to meet you."
"Heh, blunt. Definitely a mage, aren't you?"
Perhaps everyone had contestants' profiles, but for Pony it was a painful past wound.
"I'm not a mage. I didn't graduate."
Stating the fact implied she still couldn't separate herself from the world of mages.
"I know. Still, I think that's admirable."
Rangi had a way of putting people at ease.
"Hmm."
When Pony showed a flicker of interest, Rangi pulled over a chair and sat across from her.
"You said you attended Alpheas School of Magic? Then… you must know someone named Shirone?"
For the first time, feeling surfaced on Pony's usually cold face.
"How do you know Shirone?"
"Heh, of course I know him. Who in the world hasn't heard of the Ivory Tower's star?"
"True…"
To someone unfamiliar with magic, the Ivory Tower might be obscure, but Pony felt a kinship.
"What kind of person is Shirone?"
"What kind of person?"
Pony propped her chin and sank into a deep sadness as she remembered school days.
"We weren't very close. Maybe a few words in the dining hall. We actually fought more than we were friends."
"Wow, you fought with Shirone?"
For some reason, Rangi liked that.
"At the time we were rivals. But it all went sour after the graduation exam. Shirone was common-born."
Pony added, "Of course, magic shouldn't care about status. It's a world where only skill matters."
Her fierce eyes dimmed.
"My family—well, the royal family—made a mistake. They pressured to fail Shirone, who had been top, and pass me instead."
Politicians, she thought bitterly.
Were they all stamped from the same mold?
"It was humiliating. So I kept to myself. The situation worsened. In the end I…"
Pony spoke with a bitter smile. "I decided to commit suicide."
Rangi's eyes widened, and Miss Vaiden, listening nearby, hissed, "Hey, you can't say that here! Who knows who's listening?"
If such a secret leaked it could be fatal, but Pony didn't waver and continued.
"I tied a rope to the ceiling and put it around my neck."
No one reacted; the room fell utterly silent.
"I pushed the chair away and let gravity take me. But when I dropped, I stopped."
Pony swallowed.
"I slowly opened my eyes and looked down. Shirone was holding my legs. He put me down and looked me straight in the face, and said this."
Pony's voice was calm as she recounted it.
"It wasn't your fault, Pony."
Everyone was watching her.
He hadn't said it just to comfort her. He truly meant it—because it really wasn't her fault. He himself was about to lose even his mage certification, and yet he said that.
Pony still couldn't believe it.
"What's Shirone like? Simple. A mage. And the greatest mage of this age."
"You still love magic, huh."
"I wanted to keep going. But I want to trust myself a little more. I thought that was the right order of things."
A world of endless battles and competition, cold borders where no one appealed to emotion.
Looking back, that might have been the most comfort Pony ever received.
"I miss it. School…"
A smile appeared on Pony's lips for the first time, and the other contestants turned.
"Tch, that won't work on me."
A secret might spill, but that kind of drama would only increase Pony's charm.
"The Archmage Who Slays Dragons."
Rangi still had the novel Shirone had left at the hotel.
"Shirone's an impressive person."
Pony laughed. "Yeah, when he's in mage mode… honestly, I can't deny it. But if you meet him in person you'll be surprised. Most of the time he's just a simple country boy."
Though their perspectives differed, Rangi had an inkling of what Pony meant.
"Mage mode, huh? What's he like then?"
Just as Rangi drifted into imagination, the patrol who had been surveying the surrounding area returned.
Their captain introduced Jeystin.
"We've brought in a top sniper for this emergency deployment. With this, your safety is even more assured. Please participate in the competition with peace of mind."
Only a few at the palace knew about the terror threats.
"A sniper too? Honestly, who's going to shoot at us from afar? Unless they kidnap us, I don't see the point."
Jeystin said, "Not all villains are men. This is a precaution—please comply with the controls."
"I don't care, I don't care! Controlling what we eat, drink, even breathe—what more could you possibly control?"
Confidentiality was the priority; persuasion was impossible.
"Now, the great global festival begins! The World Beauty Pageant finals start!"
The host exited to thunderous applause and the opening celebratory performances continued.
"Maya, nerves can be poison, but don't let go too much. Trust me. You can do it."
It was Maya's turn.
"Introducing! From Tormia, the outstanding vocalist—Maya!"
She took a deep breath and stood where she could see the entire audience; vertigo hit her.
"Stay calm. You've done harder things than this."
She forced herself to remember her days at the School of Magic.
"You're not alone."
Seeing the musicians arrange their instruments felt like Shirone's team during the hilltop fights.
"Explosive drummer Iruki."
She smiled at the lineup.
"Rosy-cheeked keyboardist Amy. Nade suits the electric guitar. And the bass is—"
Shirone had always been the core of their team.
"Someday… will we perform together again?"
The intro to the song she had written, "Light Rain," began, and she felt a thousand eyes focus on her.
"Whew! Good—right on time."
Shirone arrived late and took a seat; the moment he sat down, Maya's movements froze and she began to step slowly in time with the beat.
"You're amazing, Maya. You made your dream come true."
She couldn't hear Shirone's voice, but Maya's motions halted completely.
"What, what's wrong? Why is she doing that?"
Palmeres, watching from backstage, immediately realized something was wrong.
"Shirone."
At first she thought she was imagining things, but the person sitting in the front-row VIP seat was undeniably Shirone.
He had really come.
Sound stopped—the music, the audience's cheers, even the beating of her own heart vanished.