Ty watched as Blue faded away, her light dimming until she disappeared entirely from sight. He looked around, observing that everyone here wore orange vests, their numbers mostly in the high 90s and 80s.
He mulled over this, thinking, It's possible most of these guys are weak or don't have so strong power and are just forced here.
"Wait a second," Ty said aloud, a realization dawning on him as he began to count. "There's only 37 of us here."
The bulky man Ty had spoken with earlier stood and approached him. "That's right. Usually, the group is about this size, give or take, depending on the overall pool of contestants. From what I rember as a kid, it was always the blue shirts or royals filling most of the seats, but of course, there are exceptions from ti to ti."
Ty nodded. "I see. Are they also allowed to forfeit or give up?"
The man's expression turned somber. "Technically, yes, they can. But they would need a way out or the ability to run away, which generally cos with great sha."
"Generally, it's not talked about much because it's seen as bad luck. But yeah, people have tried to back out and then redeem themselves by reentering. Only one guy ever successfully did it and then... poof, disappeared," explained the large man, his tone indicating this was common knowledge, albeit rarely discussed openly.
"The saying goes, 'die with honor.' It's about putting on a good show, making sure whatever cos next for your family, they're set up better than before," he continued, offering Ty a glimpse into the harsh realities of their situation.
Ty nodded, the boat's gentle sway on the water mirroring his own shifting thoughts. "I'm surprised people are so eager to gamble their lives for a wish," he comnted, trying to wrap his head around the concept.
The large man's laugh broke through the air, a deep, resonant sound. "Hey, for a chance at anything you want? You'd be surprised. Royals, commoners down on their luck—doesn't matter. Everyone's willing to bet it all for that one shot."
Ty absorbed the information, his curiosity piqued. "Hmm, I suppose that makes sense. But has a wish ever been used to revive soone or teleport them wherever they wanted?"
The large man shrugged. "Not that I'm aware of. The wishes are kept secret between the king and the winner. Most winners just leave and never co back. And if they do stay, they end up as so high-ranking noble, always off dealing with skirmishes or resolving conflicts in other countries."
Ty frowned. "But isn't everything under the control of the kingdom?"
"Yeah, technically," the man replied with another shrug. "But with so much territory, it's hard to control everything directly. Before getting caught, I was part of a raiding group. We hit the Heian Royals on the fourth continent... a beautiful place, really."
"I see, do you have family there too? And what's your na? It'd be weird if I had to shout 'Hey, big guy' across the room," Ty inquired, aiming to know more about the man he was conversing with.
The man let out a chuckle before answering, "My na's Gerald, but friends call Gears."
"Gears, huh? That actually sounds cool," Ty comnted, appreciating the nickna.
Curious, Ty asked, "How'd you end up with a nickna like Gears?"
Gears smiled, reminiscing. "Funny story, actually. I've spent most of my life tinkering with vehicles. My ability really cos in handy for that. I can fix anything as long as I have the materials."
Ty nodded, impressed. "So you're like the ultimate chanic. But what's your second skill? As handy as your first skill sounds, it doesn't seem all that useful in a fight."
Laughing, Gears acknowledged, "You're right. I suppose they recruited for my second ability, which is to place explosives and control when they detonate."
Ty's interest piqued. "Oh wow, that makes you perfect for reconnaissance and similar missions, I guess."
"Yep, exactly," Gears affird, though he noted the limitation of his skills in close combat. "But in a one-on-one fight, it's not as useful. That's where my third skill cos into play," he said, his tone brimming with a mix of pride and confidence.
Ty interrupted, surprised, "Hold on, you've unlocked a third skill? Isn't that incredibly rare?"
Gears nodded, acknowledging the rarity of such an achievent. "Yeah, it's more uncommon on this continent, especially since open conflict isn't as frequent anymore. It usually cos after a significant event or after countless hours of effort, followed by a second vision from the goddess."
Curious, Ty leaned in. "So, what's this third skill of yours?"
Gears explained, "To keep it simple, it allows to materialize anything I need, but it's temporary and only works during intense battles. My body temperature has to reach a certain threshold for it to activate."
"I see. Well, let's—" Ty began, but he was cut off by the sound of the door opening above them. The guards descended with a man Ty recognized imdiately.
The old man from his cell entered, a slight smirk on his face as he made his way to a corner after the guards opened the gate. Ty noticed the orange vest and the badge with the number 4 on it adorning the old man.
Without addressing Ty, the old man settled in the corner. Gears looked at Ty and asked, "Do you know him?"
"Sort of," Ty admitted cautiously. "But I don't trust him. Above all else, be careful around him."
Gears nodded, understanding the tension. "Well, he's made quite a na for himself. Stabbed that jerk in the eye with a hairpin. Among raiders, rebels, and anyone with a grudge against the Heian kingdom, he's practically a legend."
"Even if it might not align with your cause?" Ty probed, seeking to understand Gears's stance.
The man simply sighed, a mix of resignation and reminiscence in his voice. "Demon, my cause used to be as simple as keeping everyone I loved fed and alive." His words trailed off, hinting at a complicated past filled with struggles and perhaps a shift in his beliefs or circumstances.
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