‘What’s with this score level…? 99.9!?’

Hisagi, peeking at the display, gasped. “Ahh…” He instinctively grabbed Haruki's hand and looked up at him with trembling eyes, his voice soft and desperate, “P-please, give me one more chance…! I—I’ll come back later! Even at the end of the line! Just don’t fail me… please…”

Haruki simply said, “Fail.”

A few steps away, Kazuma folded his arms, whispering to Ren, “I knew he’d fail—he was too nervous. What do you think he scored?”

Before Ren could answer, Haruki’s voice snapped back, “Hey, why are you three still standing here? Go to the arena and wait there.”

Kazuma, annoyed but calm, replied, “We’re not standing around for you. We’re waiting for that guy. That boy is one of us.”

“This guy? He failed. And just because I try to be friendly with participants doesn’t mean you get to speak to me like that. Show some respect to someone older than you.”

Kazuma thought. ‘You're younger than me. By that logic, you should be respecting me...’

Kazuma, wearing a crooked, forced smile, replied with mock courtesy, “Hehe… My way of talking’s just like that. I only give respect to those who earn it.”

At that moment, Haruki’s eyes glowed faintly. His Kairo aura stirred—rising just enough to be noticed.

Then Sakura stepped forward and tugged Kazuma’s sleeve. “Master… Why are you talking like that?... Please give him respect.”

“Ha, okay, okay. My lord, is that enough respect for your greatness?”

Haruki sighed. ‘This guy’s overacting… well, I’m used to this kind of thing.’

Suddenly, a voice barked from behind Hisagi, “Hey! You failed, right? Move it! I gotta place my hand!”

But Hisagi didn’t budge. His eyes locked onto Haruki—not with fear, but with… determination. “Please… I still want to participate. I’ll wait till the very end. I won’t disturb the line… I promise.”

‘What’s with this kid? I think some useless contestants would show up without determination. But he wants to participate with this level also, Well it's Just 0.1 off. I’ll give him another chance.’

“Alright. I don’t know how you plan to increase it… but fine. I’ll give you time. Come back at the very end.”

Hisagi’s eyes lit up. “T-Thank you!”

He turned and sprinted to the end of the line, hands clenched.

One of the others leaned toward Haruki. “Haruki-san… why’d you give him another chance?”

“His score’s different… it’s not low. Anyway—next! Place your hand.”

Kazuma narrowed his eyes, murmuring to Ren, “Hey… why’s he going to the back again? Even if he failed, we could’ve just brought him with us. Why’s he so desperate for another shot?”

“Master, don’t mock Hisagi. He’s doing his best. By the way… what was his score?”

“How would I know? That guy kept the crystal turned to himself. Just ask Hisagi when he comes back.”

***

“Finally, the line’s done.” Haruki looked at Hisagi, who stood trembling—just slightly. “Hey, you ready?”

Hisagi drew in a sharp breath. His voice trembled. “Y-Yes.”

“Alright. Place your hand.”

As Hisagi touched the crystal again, Haruki blinked in disbelief. ‘100.1? What the…? Did he use herbs? Even so…’

“Pass. I think if we lower the level, some useless participants will show up—but at least you’ve got determination. Last long enough, and the next rounds might get easier.”

“T-Thank you! Thank you so much for giving me a second chance!”

Haruki waved lazily, already turning his attention to the next task. “Go wait in the arena cabin room.”

***

Meanwhile, Ren, Kazuma, and Sakura still waited nearby for Hisagi.

Kazuma raised an eyebrow as Hisagi approached. “Hey, what did you score the first time? Why’d he even give you a second chance?”

“Uh… 99.9.”

“What’s with that?… What was your second score?”

Hisagi shrugged, still unsure. “Um… I didn’t see it. He just said ‘pass’ and told me to go to the cabin room.”

Before the others could react, Sakura crossed her arms. “Alright, Master, time to spill—what trick are you planning to use so you don’t get detected?”

Kazuma tilted his head, confused. “Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb, Master. Even though you used de-aging art, if you participated in past tournaments, they could sense you, right? So how are you going to manage that?”

Hisagi frowned and glanced at her. “Sakura… What are you talking about? They look 25, right? How could they detect them?”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Tch. You clearly don’t know anything about Sensemitters, do you?”

Kazuma froze. ‘Shit. Sakura’s running her mouth, and now Hisagi’s going to find out I lied.’

He let out a long sigh and placed both hands on Hisagi’s shoulders, offering an awkward smile. “Ha… okay, wait. First of all… I lied to you.” He looked away, wincing slightly. “Sakura’s right.”

Hisagi’s eyes widened as realization dawned. He slowly stepped back, pulling Kazuma’s hands off his shoulders. His voice trembled with hurt. “Then… that means everything you told me was a lie?”

Kazuma stayed calm, his voice gentle. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I told you some truths. I gave you the real information when it mattered.”

Hisagi’s voice turned bitter. “Then explain what Sakura just said.”

“Yes, Master. You said you and Dad just wanted a peaceful life. But you clearly participated in a tournament a long time ago.”

Ren cut in firmly, his voice steady but not harsh. “Alright, that’s enough questions for now.”

He looked directly at Hisagi, then at Sakura. “Listen, I know what Kazuma said to you. And yeah… not everything was true. But not everything was false either. We used a de-aging art—not a normal one. You don’t have to worry about being sensed—Kazuma and I became kids, right? You didn’t believe us back then until the villagers vouched for us, remember? That's all I can say for now.”

Sakura and Hisagi exchanged glances, still a bit conflicted.

Hisagi’s voice dropped to a whisper. “…Okay. I believe you, Master. But… this time, it’s the truth, right?”

“K-Ken, you didn’t say anything from the start. We believed everything you two told us. I mean… I’m your da—”

Before she could finish, Kazuma muttered with a sulky expression, “I did say the same thing. He just used fewer words.”

Hisagi turned sharply to Kazuma, pointing. “At least Master told the truth—I can confirm it! You… you just kept lying to me!”

“You already knew—so why ask again? And Sakura, don’t forget—I taught you and treated you like a proper friend.”

Sakura huffed. “I know Dad’s timid, and you’re strong. You’re both friends—but from now on, stop lying. We’re not little kids anymore.”

“Yeah! We’re not ten-year-olds anymore!”

“Ken, you could share your memories with us too. And… I’m curious—how did you do in the tournament back then? Can you at least tell us that much?”

Ren nodded. “I’ll tell you after the first round announcement. I’m not that strong, but…”

 

Before he could finish, Kazuma exhaled. “Yeah, fine. I’ll share too.”

He grinned. “Good? Then let’s go!”

– Uff. One problem solved.

– I told you from the start—stop lying, you idiot.

– Haa… stop criticizing me. It’s solved now, right?

– Stupid.

***

A long room beneath the arena, dimly lit, with white crystal panels lining the ceiling. Footsteps echo against the stone floor, mingled with faint murmurs. Contestants are scattered throughout—some standing alone, others leaning silently against the walls, waiting.

Kazuma glanced around. “Huh? Why does it feel like way more people passed than expected?”

“Master, the instructor said they lowered the passing level. That could be why.”

Ren crossed his arms. “That’s part of it, yeah… but this many?”

As Ren surveys the room, his gaze locks on a figure across the room—someone wearing a full black outfit: hoodie, mask, pants, even the hood pulled low to hide any trace of hair or face.

Elsewhere, Yuta leans silently against a wall, arms crossed, eyes closed.

*******

Haruki spoke in a hesitant voice, “Sujin-sama… the entry test is complete.”

“Hmm? Is there an issue?”

“…The number of contestants who passed is 296.”

Sujin’s eyes widened slightly. “What?! 296? you said around 150 would pass, right?”

“That was the estimate, yes… but there’s more. Some cleared the test because of the lowered passing level—but even more exceeded the original passing level.”

“Huh?”

Haruki paced for a moment, rubbing his forehead. “…Should we change the rounds?”

“It’s complicated… it’s Inori’s wish this year… we can’t know about ‘them’ either, right? They also…”

Sujin let out a frustrated sigh. “Tch… It’s messy now. Let’s just keep the rounds as she planned. At least it’ll be entertaining—for the audience, and maybe for a few contestants.”

“Understood.”

*******

Kazuma exhaled with a frustrated sigh. “When are they going to announce the round?”

Ren snapped, “How would I know, you idiot?”

Just then, the door creaked open. Haruki stepped in, his presence drawing attention.

Kazuma leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Wait—you’re the instructor here too?”

Haruki brushed invisible dust from his sleeve. “Speak to me with respect. I’m happy to be an instructor.”

He placed both hands on the table and clapped once—sharp and loud. “First, we start with numbers. There are 296 slips of paper in this box. Come forward and take one. That number will be your tag ID until the end of the tournament.”

Contestants lined up. The room buzzed with shuffling feet, quiet murmurs, and the soft rustle of paper. One by one, they drew their numbers.

After a few moments, contestants began comparing their numbers in hushed excitement.

Kazuma asked Ren curiously, “Hey, what’s your number?”

“101. It matches with my Kairo Energy.”

Kazuma grinned and waved his slip. “I got 10! Hey, Sakura, Hisagi! What numbers did you get?”

Sakura held up her slip. “102.”

“100.”

“So I’m the one with the far-off number?”

Hisagi turned to Kazuma, confused. “Master, what does this number mean?”

Kazuma shrugged with a sarcastic smirk. “Oh, that’s the top-performer tag. I got number 10—” he paused, then grinned. “Just kidding. It’s just an ID. Doesn’t mean anything.”

Meanwhile, others checked their slips.

Yuta glanced at his tag. (‘44’)

The hooded guy beside him, face fully hidden, silently checked his tag. (‘45’)

Another contestant—Kazehaya Arata, 25 years old. His silver-white hair shimmered faintly under the room lights. His katana, slung casually at his waist.

Arata looked down at his number. (‘200’)

Haruki clapped again, calling for silence, “Now that everyone has their tag ID… we’ll begin the first round: one-on-one battles.”

“Huh?!” Several contestants shouted, shocked.

“Why start with one-on-one battles now?! Wouldn’t it make more sense to use this round later, when only a few people are left?”

“Yeah, it’ll take too much time!”

A few grinned with confidence. “I’m ready anytime.”

.

.

.

.

Haruki, unfazed, raised a hand. “We didn’t expect this many to pass. The rounds were already set—so don’t complain. Once you finish your match, you’re free to leave until Round Two… or stay and watch the other fights.”

Several contestants raised their hands, questions already forming. 

“Haruki-san, how many days will it take to finish the round?”

“It depends on you. I estimate three days. If the fights go quickly, maybe two.”

He pointed to the box of numbers. “Just like before, the instructor will draw two slips at random. Even the instructor doesn't know who’ll be called. It’s a fair fight.”

“So if my slip is not drawn early… I’ll have to wait a long time?”

Haruki sighed and rubbed his temple. “You can sit in the contestants' cabin or in the audience—it’s up to you. But when your name is called, show up immediately. If not, we’ll call someone else, and your name will be pushed back for a later draw. Got it?”

Some nodded. Others whispered quietly, still processing.

Someone from the back shouted impatiently, “Well, hurry up and start already!”

*******

– ‘Hey, when’s the tournament starting? It’s already afternoon—I’ve been waiting since morning!’

– “I told you, it’s supposed to start this afternoon. But we don’t even know what the first round is yet. We’re just waiting. If they change the location, we’ll have to go there to see.”

– ‘Hey, speak aloud so Maa can hear too. Of course, maa can use her ability.’

– “Okay, don’t worry. We’ll talk if mom agrees, or I’ll talk openly. She’ll answer, and then you’ll hear too.”

A man named Haruto stepped into the center of the arena floor. (35 years old, ivory skin tone, wearing a ninja uniform). His voice boomed across the arena. “The first round is one-on-one battles—and it will be conducted here. The total number of contestants is 296.”

A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“Huh?! First round is one-on-one with 296 contestants?!” Yui leaned back, whispering to Miko, “What do you think, Mom?”

Miko replied calmly, “Well, it’ll take time—but at least it clearly decides who advances. Half will pass. 148 will move on to the second round.”

– ‘Wait, didn’t you say only 100 or a little more would pass?’

– “That depends on the participants. How could I predict the exact number?”

– ‘Did Yuta pass? What about that white-haired guy and his friend? Did they make it?’

– “Yuta definitely passed. As for the other ones… we’ll see. But remember—you promised Mom you wouldn’t interfere with his past.”

– ‘Haa… okay, okay…’

*******

The colossal arena is filled with contestants, mentors, instructors, and spectators. Sujin sits in his grand seat, two chiefs from the towns occupy their seats, Haruki stood by him, arms crossed behind his back.

Among the crowd, Hisagi, Ren, Kazuma and Sakura, sat close together.

Kazuma leaned forward, whispering just loud enough, “Hey. Don’t talk about anything unnecessary on the arena floor. Everyone’s ears are sharp. Here, in the crowd, no one pays attention—But everyone focuses there. Of course, if we whisper, they definitely won’t hear.”

Hisagi, always eager, turned to Ren. “Master! Then now can you tell us—me and Sakura—how you did in the past tournaments?”

Ren scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin. “Well… that—”

A sharp voice suddenly cut through the noise. Haruto drew two slips from the box. “The first fight will be between contestant numbers… 31 and… 101.”

“...Huh? Me?”

Kazuma leaned back, smirking. “Yeah. It’s you. Go on.”

A faint voice echoed in Ren’s head. – Don’t do anything reckless.

– I know. I also want to finish the fight quickly.

*******

As Ren stepped onto the arena floor, murmurs broke out all around.

People whispered to their neighbors, pointing and leaning forward. “It’s Roy, right?”

“That means Sujin-sama’s son and that white-haired guy will fight!”

“Wait… who’s that white-haired guy? I don’t remember seeing him in any previous year.”

*******

“Mom, look! That’s the guy Yuki and I talked about!”

Miko’s eyes widened in shock. “Huh? I still can’t believe it. Is he really standing in the arena?”

“Yuki said he’s from some village… and you mentioned something too. It might be connected, right?”

“Okay, Yuki—you and I… if our theory between the three of us is right, then it’s him. But remember what you promised me.”

“Ah… we won’t interfere. We remember.”

Haruto said the rule, “If either contestant admits defeat or is unable to fight, the match will immediately end—and the other will be declared the winner.”

Both contestants nodded and replied in unison, “Okay.”