By Zephyria 
<The second match of the Group Stage Team Battles will be held here, at Brassforge Trigon!>
<Brassforge is the home of blacksmiths, where the average annual temperature reaches 40 to 50 degrees Celsius. It was once the dream and hope of old-era miners, overflowing with brilliant minerals and natural gas. Currently, 68% of the resources in Sector A have been mined, but the local autonomous council determined that further work could not proceed due to safety concerns, leaving it as an abandoned mine for the past five years.>
<However, it has returned as a testing ground to make the participants’ performances shine!>
[ ♪ Group Stage Match 2, Brassforge Trigon ♬ ]
Sitting in a meeting chair in the team waiting room, Leonardo stared at the canvas cloth fluttering beyond the floor-to-ceiling window. Phrases announcing the location of the second match of the group stage were scribbled across it. Beneath the massive shadow it cast, the passionate cheers of the crowd and the music flowed in through the thick glass walls.
‘What are they doing at this hour?’
Occasionally, in the spectator seats, there were crude but seemingly handmade cheering tools—lion costumes, lion headbands, pink jelly paw gloves—asserting their presence here and there.
‘Aren’t they late for their meeting?’
The sight of them swaying to the grand prelude was childish, like playing house, but it gave Leonardo a fair amount of exhilaration.
—Leo, we….
“Brother, how are you feeling today?”
Just then, someone’s face popped into his field of vision. He offered a greeting along with a long glass bottle.
“You look tired; did you sleep well?”
Leonardo, who had been surrendering his consciousness to the music, glanced over and naturally took the bottle being held out. The glass bottle, designed with a slender waist to fit comfortably in one hand, had bubbles rising, suggesting it was carbonated. Staring at the surface of the bottle, Leonardo answered Ero.
“So-so. But what is this?”
“They say it’s a local specialty, and it’s so popular that getting one is like plucking a star from the sky.”
“How did you get it then?”
“For you, Brother, I could even pluck the stars, you know?”
Ero boasted as he plopped down in the seat to Leonardo’s right.
Judging by the engraving on the outside, it was Tonic Water made from mineral water rising from beneath the soil of Brassforge. Leonardo glanced at the mouth spewing such cringeworthy remarks.
“Did he catch something from the Orca?”
“Are you talking about me?”
Suddenly, a head popped in over his shoulder. Reflexively twisting his neck to avoid it, Leonardo pushed Orca’s head away.
“Aw, Brother. I’m different from an Orca in heat, aren’t I?”
“Orcas don’t have a mating season. They are capable all year round.”
Ero protested, asking not to be lumped together with that man. As if to prove the point, Orca sat to Leonardo’s left, rubbing his face against Leonardo’s palm of his own accord. It was a quite familiar composition, continuing from last time. It was a scene the three gathered here had grown reasonably accustomed to.
Ero complained that he had been caught and scolded by reporters while conducting the match order draw in front. Orca, who said he had been in the shower because it was too hot around the same time, replied while resting his chin on the table.
“For someone who said that, you arrived faster than I thought. It would have been better if you came a bit slower.”
“Hey, I’m the leader for a reason. Do you think this is my first or second time doing an interview? I brushed them off appropriately and came.”
Opening the cap of his own glass bottle, Ero gulped down the refreshing drink. When it was about half empty, he shuddered and let out an exclamation.
“Kyah—, this is amazing! I feel like my chest is wide open! You should try some too, Brother.”
At the fussing suggestion, Leonardo, who had been looking down at the bottle suspiciously, cautiously took a sip. His brow furrowed instinctively at the sting traveling down his esophagus, but it wasn’t bad. Because the glass bottle was a bluish color, he expected a soda flavor, but unexpectedly, it was a tart lemon scent.
Licking his lips, he replied.
“It’s not bad.”
“Right? Delicious, isn’t it? Combined with the view out there, it’s absolutely fantastic!”
A sly smile gestured with the chin toward the window. Looking back, a panel cheering for Team Joker was bustling in one corner of the spectator seats. The waiting room window was situated in a prime spot overlooking everything.
Feeling the team leader’s mood lift along with it, Leonardo let out a small chuckle.
“You like it?”
“Of course I do! We already have people cheering for our team; if we win this match too, we’ll become superstars!”
“I have a good feeling. I feel like we’re only a few steps away from winning the championship.”
“Oh, by the way, did you know? That Toad who fought us last time… they say he came back to life in the Losers’ Revival Match….”
Clang—
While the chatter continued, the waiting room door opened with vigor, and Beatrice, the only woman on the team, entered while preciousy clutching something in her arms.
“Kyaa, look at this! A fan of mine made it!”
In her outstretched arms was a bisque doll decorated with a gorgeous dress and frills. Its skin was as white as porcelain, and its voluminous wavy hair added a touch of loveliness to its gloomy atmosphere.
“They gave me this and told me to make sure to win today!”
“Oh, is that Bell?”
“Hehe, isn’t it so pretty?”
Orca, who examined it seriously, nodded readily.
“It’s twice as pretty as the real thing.”
“What?!”
“Why, why are you getting angry?”
To prevent another war from breaking out, Morbang stepped in front of the lady. Behind him, Gillian entered with a chuckle, drawing the teammates’ attention.
“Hey, stop fighting and start coming out. The match is starting.”
“Huh, are we going already?”
Ero, who had looked back, put down his drink bottle and sprang up. He then picked up Leonardo’s mask from the table and handed it over.
“Brother, let’s go! Let’s show them clearly who the winner is!”
Taking it, Leonardo nodded. He soon stood up and hooked the mask’s strap around his ear.
“Let’s go. To win.”
“Now, before we go out, let’s all do a ‘fighting’ cheer together—.”
Ero gathered the team members and first held out his hand in the center. One by one, they covered their palms over his. Just as Ero was enthusiastically explaining that they should follow along once he led the chant,
Leonardo, who placed his palm last, preempted him.
“For the victory of Team Joker!”
The quick-witted teammates followed suit.
“Let’s win, let’s win, fighting—!”
“Aaaah—, Brotheeeer!”
Ero’s complaining voice echoed all the way down the hallway outside the waiting room.
<Due to safety concerns, some of Joker’s Pistol Cartridges, which cannot be recognized by the Identity Band, have been partially recalled. The organizers explained that since these are unregistered items on the market, unexpected dangers could arise. Because of this, Joker has lost more than half of his powerful weapon’s performance.>
<However, he likely still has many trump cards left to entertain us! Look at that!>
“Uwaaaaah!”
Following the winding rails in the crevices of Trigon Gorge, Ero, riding in a mine cart, descended at a 77-degree incline. The mine cart he rode was piled high with yellow minerals, and three or four bluish glass bottles were attached to the back with adhesive made from melted minerals.
Carbonated drinks erupted explosively from the bottle mouths, soaking the rails wherever the mine cart passed.
“Brother Beast, it’s too faaaaast—!”
Ero’s scream, filled with terror, rang loudly through the deep, hot valley. On the other hand, the broadcasting team watching burst into admiration.
<He is using the local specialty of Brassforge, Tonic Water, as propulsion for the mine cart! What a brilliant idea!>
<They say the erupting mineral water reaches an instantaneous speed of nearly 60 km/h. It seems he will arrive at the destination quickly, but changing direction will not be easy.>
From the rails where the lemon drink evaporated, puffs of smoke rose, leaving behind citric acid residue and red rust. Over that, two mine carts from the opposing team, chasing Ero, zoomed past. Feeling a sense of crisis, Ero gasped and hurriedly rummaged through the magazines in his pocket.
<Now, Joker. What kind of cartridge will he show us this time?> <I am deeply concerned whether he can escape this crisis. The cartridges he showed earlier today were nothing more than a talent show.>
Having picked one, he clicked his pistol into place and aimed the muzzle at the opposing team from atop the speeding mine cart. Then, the moment he put strength into his finger and pulled the trigger.
Pop—
“…Eh?”
Bubbles like soap suds erupted from the muzzle, fluttering brilliantly in five colors.