At dusk, Chrollo and Kisho headed toward the base.
The two of them, one in front and one behind, walked slowly, without exchanging a single word along the way.
"Since you're not talking, why did you even make me come back with you…" Kisho stared at the figure ahead of him, grumbling silently in his heart.
By the time they reached the area near the base, the sky had completely darkened.
Dim light spilled out from the windows of the house, reflecting in Kisho's eyes.
For a brief moment, he felt a strange illusion—"maybe I'm someone who has a home to return to, too."
His whole body tingled at the thought. Kisho hurriedly shook his head, forcefully throwing that terrifying idea out of his mind.
From the three-story building of the base came an uproar of noise, loud enough to be heard clearly even from far away.
...
Inside the first floor of the base, almost all of the Spiders were gathered there.
"Hahahaha, looks like I won again this time!"
The one speaking was Uvogin. As he spoke, his face was full of smug delight.
"When it comes to arm strength, first place is still me!"
He withdrew his gaze from Phinks, who was sitting opposite him, then swept an extremely provocative look across the faces of the Spiders.
Grinning broadly, he said:
"Anyone still not convinced?"
As the defeated opponent under Uvogin's hand, Phinks was infuriated by that contemptuous look. He slammed the table hard and shouted:
"Damn it! Is there nobody who can put him in his place?!"
Standing by the table, Shalnark rolled his eyes at Phinks.
"You already lost as the Troupe's number two—who are you expecting now?"
Then he turned to Uvogin, extremely dissatisfied.
"Hey, hey, it's fine if you stare at those Enhancement types, but staring at me—"
He pointed at himself, then pointed at Kortopi.
"—and Kortopi, what's that supposed to mean?"
Hearing this, Machi suddenly smiled, turned her head toward someone else who was also an Enhancement type, and said:
"So what if they're Enhancement types? Among us, isn't there an Enhancement type whose arm strength is even worse than a Specialist's?"
"Damn it! Who are you talking about?!"
Killing intent instantly burst out from Nobunaga. His hand went to the katana he never left behind as he stared coldly at Machi.
"Say that again if you dare?"
Machi shot him a glance, turned her head away, and clicked her tongue.
Feitan, on the other hand, let out a cold laugh and said what Machi meant for her:
"Whoever stands up is who."
"Damn damn damn!! Feitan! Fight me!"
Nobunaga roared in rage, deciding to reclaim his dignity in another way.
Faced with the furious Nobunaga stamping his feet, Machi and Feitan made the same choice:
They ignored him completely.
On the other side, Shalnark also ignored Nobunaga and summed up:
"Well then, if no one else wants to challenge, the Troupe's three hundred and thirty-third arm-wrestling competition—first place once again goes to—"
"Wait a moment."
A suddenly emerging cool, calm voice interrupted Shalnark's conclusion—and also interrupted the smug expression on Uvogin's face.
He looked unhappily toward the person blocking his moment of glory—
Ah, it's the leader. Then it's fine.
Chrollo walked over to the group at an unhurried pace, naturally blending into the conversation.
He smiled gently, his gaze falling into a patch of shadow near the staircase.
"If we're ranking the entire Troupe, then there's still a new member who hasn't participated."
"Oh yeah, there's still a new member!"
Uvogin shouted in his booming voice.
"Hey, Kisho! Come over and arm wrestle!"
Kisho, who had already stepped onto the last stair and thought he'd escaped the team-building activity: "...?"
You guys can enjoy your team building all you want—don't drag me into it! What does your team building have to do with a socially anxious person like me?!
Under the leader's "guidance," and following Uvogin's loud shout, the Spiders all turned their gazes toward Kisho.
Standing on the stairs, Kisho was stuck—unable to advance, unable to retreat.
Leaning over the railing, he glared fiercely at a certain someone who was smiling innocently.
Damn Chrollo!
After thinking it over, he decided to refuse.
"Can I not participate? Just count me as last place."
"No way!"
Uvogin slammed the table in front of him with a thunderous bang.
"Are you even a man?! If you're a man, get down here! Hurry up—don't dawdle like a woman—"
Before he could finish, an intense and terrifying killing intent erupted from the two women of the Troupe.
Seeing that resentment was about to drown him, Uvogin immediately withdrew his inappropriate wording and decisively shouted:
"Hurry up and come down!"
Kisho: "..."
Silently, he walked back down the stairs and stood in front of the table.
Phinks stood up and gave up his seat.
After Kisho sat down, he looked at Uvogin's sinister grin, fell silent for a moment, then turned to Machi and asked politely:
"About the arm-sewing service—can I get a monthly pass? I want to subscribe for the month."
Machi: "...?"
Ignoring the weirdly talking kid, Uvogin chuckled and directly extended his hand.
Two hands with an extremely obvious difference in size clasped together.
Looking at this bizarre contrast, the usually ruthless Spiders fell into a rare moment of silence.
From a corner came Kortopi's low voice:
"...Why does it feel like everyone's ganging up to bully the newcomer?"
After one second of silence, everyone swiftly chose self-preservation over loyalty, abandoning the pawn to save the king.
Collectively, they looked at Uvogin with eyes that clearly said,
"You're bullying the newcomer, you shameless bastard," making it painfully obvious that they intended to dump all the blame on him.
"Cough—how about you start from the middle? One by one."
Being stared at like that, even a reinforced face couldn't quite take it. Uvogin immediately pulled his hand back, stepped aside, and tried to pass the blame.
"Nobunaga! Come on, here's your chance to wash away your shame! This kid's aura looks like a Specialist type—beat him, and you won't be an Enhancement type who's weaker than a Specialist anymore!"
Suddenly being called out again, Nobunaga exploded in rage:
"—Shut the hell up!"
Angry as he was, Nobunaga still sat down in Uvogin's original seat and reached out to clasp hands with Kisho.
"Alright then, the three hundred and thirty-third competition officially restarts—anyone placing bets?"
Always rushing to the front line of spectating, Shalnark naturally took on the role of host, presiding over both the match and the betting pool.
"Ten thousand Jenny on Nobunaga."
Machi followed up immediately, not missing any chance to squeeze money out of Shalnark.
"Same." Pakunoda said.
"Same."
Feitan glanced at Kisho and echoed her.
Even Kortopi, who had just said they were bullying the newcomer, silently joined in—and went even further.
"Nobunaga, fifty thousand Jenny."
Seeing the odds about to spiral out of control, Shalnark's smile turned a bit strained.
"I'll bet on Kisho."
Franklin, who had been silent all along, finally spoke slowly for the newcomer's sake.
"One thousand Jenny."
Kisho: "..."
You might as well not have bet on me.
Shalnark looked toward Chrollo and forced a smile.
"Boss?"
Chrollo smiled.
"Let's watch for now."
"Alright then."
Shalnark reached out and held both Kisho's and Nobunaga's hands.
"Then, let's begin. Get ready—three, two, one—!"
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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