Once the crowd had completely dispersed, the students from the various academies who had stayed in the stands were finally allowed to return to their shiphouses.
Mistblade, Maple Syrup, and Fat Goose ca running straight to find Rita. The mont she saw them at her door, Rita pulled them inside. Even if they hadn’t co looking for her, she would have gone to find them.
She pulled out the lie-detecting gem Mistblade had given her earlier and clipped it to her collar, then said to Mistblade, "Can you copy my snowman? I need to copy that skill of yours, but I swear it won’t affect your own skill in any way."
The gem didn’t glow—she was telling the truth.
Mistblade reached out and copied the other snowman Rita was holding.
She really liked being friends with Rita. In her eyes, there was no one in the world more suited to friendship than Rita. She never mistook "lowering your guard," "never asking for anything in return," or "having no privacy or secrets" as the essence of intimacy.
She liked reciprocation. She liked honesty. When she needed soone to do sothing for her, she always made sure they knew before they had to ask, so they could feel at ease. She understood and respected her friends’ selfishness.
Mistblade knew Maple Syrup and Fat Goose also valued this about Rita.
Looking at the SSS-tier skill [Temporary Possession] now sitting in her shopping cart, Rita’s opinion of [Send the Link] went up another notch—because [Temporary Possession] was an item-based skill.
It did have one major drawback though: she couldn’t copy self-only powerhouse skills like [Mystic Force].
Setting aside that regret, Rita had Mistblade use her copy skill again, adding another [Temporary Possession] to the cart.
Copied skills could only be used once, but there was no rule saying they could only be copied once.
In the sa way, she had Maple Syrup copy [I Want, I Get], which steals 99% of a target’s mana and converts it into her own stored HP, and Fat Goose copy [Just Do It for ], which burns the opponent’s health to massively boost her own stats.
All of them were item-based skills.
They’d already discussed in private that not only had they all co from another world, but each had brought along one or two ridiculously powerful items.
Rita’s verdict: they were all chosen ones.
After admiring the skills now in her cart, Rita grinned. "When we get back, I’ll make snown for you guys."
Fat Goose was pulling out his homade magic food while Mistblade and Maple Syrup helped set up—they were planning a little celebration.
Rita placed a few of the better-tasting fruit wines she’d brewed with [Wrong Season] on the table for them to pick from.
They had barely finished setting out the food, desserts, and drinks when there was another knock at the door.
Outside stood a classmate Rita was surprised to see, though she had a good guess why they’d co.
"Congratulations. I noticed you didn’t eat."
She looked past them at the white motorbike with several dishes hanging from its handlebars. The red-and-white pattern on its fra marked it as a Moonlight Marsh student. The rounded front of the bike even had cartoonish eyes, nose, and mouth.
Even after being classmates for two and a half years, Rita still couldn’t get used to that magical absurdity.
She turned and called into the room, "You mind if I add one more? It’s the motorbike."
"Yes, it’s ."
"No problem."
"Hurry up already!"
"Co on, I’m starving! Watching your match almost killed !"
Rita stepped aside. "Co in."
Maple Syrup and the others shuffled over to make room.
To eat more easily, the motorbike transford into a humanoid robot—though unlike during the match, it didn’t crystallize, leaving its red-and-white school uniform visible.
Its arrival didn’t disrupt the mood. While Rita and the others chatted over dinner, the motorbike joined in here and there. It had a few quirks in its speech but knew when to keep things asured.
They’d all run into each other often in various SSS classes, so compared to other students in their year, the bike was actually pretty familiar with them.
After half a cup of wine to steady himself, Fat Goose said, "Next year I’m signing up. The stands are more dangerous than the ga itself!"
Motorbike: "Really?!"
Maple Syrup and Mistblade nodded.
Maple Syrup: "I’m planning to join too."
Motorbike: "Wow."
Mistblade: "Last year’s Divine Ga wasn’t nearly this intense. Your play this year was torture."
Motorbike: "Oh? How so?"
And there it was—that flaw. Once the bike joined a conversation, it would never let a single sentence hit the floor.
GodDraw77 had once said, if its skill-chaining ability matched its talent for keeping a conversation alive, it’d be the ultimate tank.
When Maple Syrup and the others had all decided to compete next year, the motorbike suddenly asked, "Are you all joining just to kill ti?"
It sounded casual, like idle chatter.
Maple Syrup looked down, cutting her steak. "I need to level up my Godgift, but not this year."
Mistblade sidestepped her own real goal. "No one can resist the lure of GodDraw77’s prize."
Fat Goose scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Alright, I admit it—the temptation of making the biggest screen is hard to resist... If I could beco GodDraw77, that’d be even better... Fine, I want to beco GodDraw77."
All self-serving motives. Passable, but not intense enough—and they weren’t the bike’s real target anyway.
It turned to Rita. "If you need a teammate whose goal is to be GodDraw77 for next year’s team competition, contact ."
"Alright. I’ll think about it."
That night, while lying in bed about to sleep, Rita got three ssages.
The contents were uncannily similar.
[Mistblade]: Why didn’t you invite us?
[Maple Syrup]: I was waiting for you to ask .
[Fat Goose]: When you form a team, you’re not seriously leaving out, right?!!
Rita sent the exact sa reply to all three.
"In the individual and fun matches, if we run into each other, we don’t need and shouldn’t hold back. You’ll only get one chance to quit mid-match. Can you accept that?"
She sent the sa ssage to the motorbike.
The reply ca fast, and it was brutally concise—"Couldn’t ask for more."
By the ti she fell asleep, she still hadn’t gotten an answer from her other three friends.
Good. That ant they were taking the question seriously.
The next day there were no matches. No matter how long each round lasted, there was always a one-day gap between gas. Rita planned to visit Auberdine, pick up so supplies, and buy this year’s Divine Ga intel.
She’d already gotten all the fun match data from Mistblade and the others.
The biggest difference from previous years was that in the past, the leaderboard was dominated by upper-year students—but this year, at least a quarter of the top hundred were third-years.
On top of that, in one of Auberdine’s Burrowbug Tavern branches, Rita picked up another piece of news.
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