The steamy "fan service" mont had, of course, co to an end. And truth be told, Steven didn't really enjoy any part of it.
One of the girls was a complete airhead—say jump, and she'd ask how high. The other one… well, even if her mind had beco sowhat more stable, she was still a certified lunatic.
There was just no way Steven could muster up any excitent for that.
Thankfully, after doing a few simple things (nothing lewd), he promptly kicked both of them out of his room. Once they were gone, he collapsed back onto his bed, rubbed his temples tiredly, and soon slipped into a deep, quality sleep.
Not a single dream visited him that night.
At exactly six in the morning—right on schedule—Steven's eyes snapped open. As a thoroughly disciplined Minecrafter, if he wasn't using mods, then sleeping in was basically impossible. In fact, the fact that he didn't leap straight out of bed like a spring-loaded jack-in-the-box was already considered restraint.
After a quick wash-up, he made his way next door and knocked on the girls' room.
Neither of them had told him what the plan was for today, and that was sothing he needed to get cleared up.
Oh, and he also had to get that little shark girl so proper underwear. Skadi's stuff was obviously a size too small for her.
Before long, Skadi opened the door, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Her delicate little face still held traces of drowsiness and exhaustion.
"So, did you two decide where you're going today?" Steven asked casually. "Anyway, I'm probably heading to the Major to take a look."
He hadn't forgotten the reason he ca to Kazimierz in the first place. Even though, after eting Zofia and Centaurea, he had a feeling that this whole Major thing might not be as impressive as he had hoped, he still felt it was sothing he had to see for himself.
"I was thinking of finishing that task Miss Kal'tsit gave first, but… if you're set on going, then…" Skadi trailed off, her words still sluggish from sleep. After glancing back at the still-snoozing Specter, she nodded slightly in confirmation.
"You go ahead and do your thing. I'll wait for her to wake up, then we'll decide where to go."
Skadi was evolving into a full-blown housewife at this point, but Steven could understand her mindset. Most people would've broken down after back-to-back encounters with amnesiac teammates. The fact that she was still holding it together is actually amazing—well, maybe her slightly ditzy personality was actually helping her in this case?
Steven shook his head but didn't comnt further. He just closed the door for them and headed out of the inn.
Since she'd already made her choice, he wasn't going to interfere. Forcing soone into sothing they clearly weren't interested in was the fastest way to make them hate you, after all.
Before leaving, though, he didn't forget to tell the front desk lady to send over a proper set of underwear for Specter, sothing that would actually fit her size.
The request earned him another one of those awkward, blushing, yet clearly understanding smiles from the receptionist—but Steven was already used to this kind of misunderstanding. It wasn't even worth explaining anymore, honestly.
Stepping out into the morning streets, he casually grabbed a newspaper from a nearby stand.
In an era where smartphones weren't yet a standard issue for everyone, newspapers were still the fastest way to find out what was going on in a city. Especially the weird or interesting stuff.
And the headline didn't disappoint:
"Shocking News! Spokesman of the Roar Knightclub Killed in a Terror Attack?! Is This the Beginning of a Revenge Saga Rooted in the Abandonnt of an Illegitimate Child? The Love and Hate Behind Durich's Life Story Revealed!"
Naturally, the front page story was about the bombing that killed the spokesman of the Roar Knightclub yesterday. But as soone who was personally involved in the incident, Steven found the contents of the article laughably off the mark.
Illegitimate child? A tale of love and betrayal? Please. This newspaper was clearly going for the most dramatic, clickbait-worthy version of the story possible.
Sighing, Steven muttered under his breath, "Didn't think the era of shock-journalism had started this early. Guess so things are tiless—like flashy headlines."
Still, he didn't particularly care. Whatever the papers decided to write, it was none of his business now. He didn't even care why that guy ended up dead.
As long as the situation was resolved, that was enough.
Shifting his attention to the rest of the paper, he skimd through the smaller stories. Aside from the overblown headline, the rest was filled with oddball events and celebrity gossip.
Like, for instance, rumors that the wildly popular Candle Knight kept a personal manservant in secret… or that the Blood Knight—a top contender for the championship—was apparently beaten up by a Forte Knight.
Not that any of this mattered to Steven. He didn't know who any of these people were, and he had zero interest in looking into it.
Soon, though, his eyes landed on the piece he was looking for:
"Top 18 Round of the Major to Be Held as a Battle Royale! Taking Place Today at Fla Edge Arena!"
Short and sweet. A rare case of a headline that wasn't sensationalized. The article underneath only listed a few of the confird participants—no fluff, no filler.
But truthfully, this was the only news anyone really wanted to read. The Major had beco such an everyday part of Kazimierz culture that even without clickbait, anyone who cared was going to keep up with every little update.
And there she was.
Among the list of competitors, Steven imdiately spotted Zofia's profile picture.
He couldn't miss it even if he tried. The image was printed one size larger than the rest, which made it crystal clear just how popular—and heavily backed—she was.
Right next to her was another enlarged photo, this one showing a knight called Brassrust. Judging by the sizing and positioning, it looked like these two were being pushed as the main highlights of today's matches.
Steven rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
The tournant didn't start until noon, which ant he still had ti to prepare—like maybe go buy a ticket.
Following the map toward the so-called Fla Edge Arena, he soon arrived at the scene… only to be greeted by a truly staggering line of people waiting at the ticket booth.
The queue stretched so far that he couldn't even see where it ended.
Apparently, waking up at six still wasn't early enough.
Judging from the full battle gear worn by so of the people in line, Steven suspected many of them had camped out overnight just to be first in line.
Expressionless, Steven stared at the never-ending crowd in front of him.
If I really queue up for this, I'll still be standing here by next week,' he thought.
Wasting hours in a line like this?
Not happening.
Steven scratched his head helplessly. Just as he was about to try contacting Zofia to see if she could hook him up with a ticket, a shady-looking Kuranta youth sidled up beside him like a stray rat and tugged at his sleeve.
"Hey, brother. Not a fan of lining up, huh?"
The guy whispered quietly, then pulled open his oversized coat just enough to reveal a fan of folded papers tucked inside—tickets, unmistakably.
Steven glanced at them and instantly understood.
'Ah. No wonder they say Kazimierz is a comrcial powerhouse. Even the scalping business here is thriving.'
He wasn't particularly surprised. In fact, considering the circumstances, buying a scalped ticket wasn't the worst idea. If he was really pressed for ti, it might actually be the most efficient solution.
Giving the youth a faintly amused look, Steven nodded.
"What's your price?"
The young scalper grinned, clearly sensing a sale.
"Don't worry, brother. Cheaper than wasting precious ti in a line like this. Just a single ticket. Barely costs anything."
He paused for dramatic effect, then declared:
"It's only about 10,000 Marks each."
The mont the price left his lips, Steven's expression stiffened in place.
'Ten thousand?!'
Sure, Steven knew that tickets to the Major were expensive—standard entry alone ran up to about 3,000 Mark. But this guy was asking for more than triple that.
For context, his entire week-long stay at a high-end inn only cost him less than half of that.
Was this guy trying to scalp tickets or organs?
"Plenty of folks would kill for this deal," the scalper added, puffing up with pride. "The sea is close to the action too, it has a perfect view of all the best fights!"
He kept pushing his pitch, clearly thinking he had a live one on the hook. But he failed to notice the distinct glint of disdain in Steven's eyes.
It wasn't that Steven couldn't accept the idea of paying a bit extra—if you had access to sothing others didn't, it was only natural to charge a premium.
But ten thousand?
That wasn't premium. That was just daylight robbery.
Steven clicked his tongue and waved a hand dismissively.
"Forget it. At that price, I'd rather go rob soone. That's quicker."
"H-Hey now, robbing isn't nearly as safe as this," the scalper muttered, finally catching on to Steven's unwillingness.
With a scowl, he gave Steven a final glare before muttering to himself and slinking off, muttering sothing about damn freeloaders under his breath.
Steven, now apparently labeled as a broke loser, couldn't help but twitch at the corner of his mouth.
'Seriously, what's he even acting so smug for? He's got a few tickets and suddenly thinks he's king of the world?'
He was already considering if he should give that scalper a little karmic lesson when a familiar figure caught his eye.
A certain silver-haired girl had just stepped out from the VIP entrance of the Fla Edge Arena.
From the way the staff bowed and escorted her with the utmost respect, it was obvious she held quite the status here.
'Well, if she's that well-connected, then getting a ticket from her should be a piece of cake, right?'
With a grin forming on his face, Steven turned and strolled confidently toward a certain striking white horse.
< >
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