By Zephyria 
Waaaaah—!
The crowd went wild, veins popping in their necks and foreheads. Waves of surging people swelled, surrounding the stadium. The number of slogans and pickets praising Team Joker had increased significantly since the last time.
Now, it wasn’t just Ryan; disguises mimicking the characteristics of each team member could be seen quite often. Joker, Orca, Minotaurus, and even a Goth Princess clutching a cursed doll.
Between the pillars leading outside the stadium, makeshift betting booths constructed from iron frames were situated. The areas in front of them were packed with people, filled with the heat of the excited crowd and the acrid smell of cigarette smoke.
“I’ll bet another 30,000 Bell here!”
“Hey, I was first!”
Crumpled bills, betting tickets, and coarse voices exchanged over the crudely laid out iron counters. Inside the brass bars, a bookkeeper diligently drew lines with a pen and stamped papers, pushing the pile of completed betting slips to one side.
The stakes grew higher, and countless wrists crossed rapidly through the narrow gaps beneath the bars.
Every time a broken pen rolling around was picked up by a new hand, “Team Joker” and “Lion” were scribbled onto blank forms.
Desire, euphoria, and desperation. In front of the booths where madness was brewing, a reporter who had come to cover the event set off a flash to capture the scene.
Click—
Swoosh—
On a wide mahogany table, a bundle of newspapers dropped by a waiter scattered messily across the surface. The vivid scene from the betting booths was scaled down to decorate the front page.
A headline was printed in large capital letters at the top.
「 Overheated Illegal Gambling Scene: Is This Truly Acceptable? 」
Gentlemen and ladies with plenty of time on their hands, calling themselves sociologists, gathered in salons to enjoy fresh newspapers and poker games alongside absinthe and single malt whisky.
“It says the betting amounts are ballooning due to Team Joker’s consecutive victories.”
A gentleman with a sharp impression, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, spoke after reading a few lines of the article.
“That likely means the participants’ market value is rising. The league’s betting fund management team must be worried. The organizers profit most when the crowd loses a lot of money, but while Team Joker’s matches are popular, the results are too predictable. At this rate, only the ceiling-less illegal gamblers will make money.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Rather, the organizers are selling the crowd’s expectations for the participants as the league’s hit product. They’re calling Laina Rogia a symbolic existence that illuminates a thousand years of history. The incidental income from that side is probably substantial.”
A dealer, having neatly straightened the velvet tablecloth, swiftly distributed the shuffled cards. A man with a cigar in his mouth took his share of the cards, exhaled a long plume of smoke, scanned his hand, and replied.
“Some raise concerns that such predictable results might diminish the excitement of the matches. I agree.”
“But that’s only because you haven’t seen their matches! There have been only a handful of games that thrilling in the last ten years!”
Across the table where the debate unfolded, elegant hands moved in turn, drawing their opponents’ cards.
“Still, it is a fact that Team Joker’s presence lowers the morale of some participants. Specifically, Ryan. He is simply too powerful.”
“Even if that’s true, that isn’t the fault of the participant named Ryan. And there are other strong players, aren’t there? Like Asher.”
“I heard Asher has been struggling lately because he joined the wrong team. He’s no match for Ryan.”
“Oh dear.”
A lady wearing pearl earrings drew a card while defending Ryan, but quickly fell silent. The card in her hand was the Joker.
The lady who had dealt her the card curled the corners of her lips.
“Whether positive or negative, it’s certain that he will have a powerful influence on the general trend.”
[ Special Exhibition: Bonus Match ]
<This match is unrelated to whether an individual is eliminated, but it is said that winning will provide a beneficial advantage in future matches. Since it is a bonus game with no obligation to participate, it is expected that participants desperate to advance to the finals will mainly appear—.>
<However, they will also need to choose and focus. The nature of the benefit has not yet been announced. If the benefit lacks practicality, it might be wiser to conserve strength for the main match tomorrow.>
<Ah, but look who it is!>
The spectators, who had been sitting there consoling themselves with the unusually cheap ticket prices, all craned their necks to peer at the ground.
<Joker, the leader of Team Joker, and team member Orca have appeared!>
<This is an unexpected heavy-hitter.>
Waaaaah—
Ero, grinning widely enough to show his gums, waved his hand toward the cheering crowd. Orca, beside him, did the same.
<But is it just the two of them today?>
[ Score / A 18 : B 18 ]
“Orca hyung-nim, over here!”
“Here it comes!”
Orca, who had crossed the ground quickly while holding the whale’s whisker, threw the ball—retrieved from the opposing team—to Ero. Following that, Orca produced a fan and launched an ultrasound; the ball, gaining speed pushed by the wind, bypassed three members of the opposing team and flew toward Ero.
<Orca, great toss!>
Ero, running faster than anyone, stepped on the backs of the hulking opponents and leaped over their heads, arching his waist backward to snatch the ball with both hands. He landed on the ground with a back tumble, grabbed the pistol he had been holding in his mouth, and fired toward the basket above his head.
Bang! A Vine Cartridge flew instantly, pulling Ero upward 11 meters into the air.
“Waaaah!”
Before he could even regain his senses, he was dragged up and slammed a dunk shot into the goal passing before his eyes.
Beep—
[ Score / A 20 : B 18 ]
<Joker! He takes the final benefit of the bonus game! This will make advancing to the finals much easier!>
<He’s showing that they can do it even without Ryan. With this, he proves that he is the true leader of the team—.>
“Yeeeee!”
Ero, dangling from the goal, shook his legs violently upon seeing the scoreboard. When he finally let go and fell, a transparent whale that had flown in just in time caught him from below. With a splash sound, his body was sucked into the water.
At that moment, in Ero’s sinking vision, a magnified silhouette waved from the spectator seats.
“Hyung-niim—!”
Ero, trotting down the hallway with a wet body, spotted Leonardo and threw himself at him.
Leonardo, who had been welcoming him warmly, saw his eyes widen, and for a moment, his wobbling legs barely managed to keep his balance. He looked down with a bewildered expression at the piece of luggage that had returned in triumph into his arms. Soon after, realizing his own clothes were also wet, he grabbed the back of Ero’s neck, dropped him, and glared.
“Do you want to die?”
“Eh, hehe. I was just so happy to see you… You said you were busy today, so I didn’t think you’d come!”
Leonardo, dusting off his clothes and drying the moisture reasonably well, replied indifferently.
“Well, I had some time left.”
“More importantly, did you see me? I got the benefit! I don’t know what it is yet, though!”
“I helped too, can I get a hug?”
As Orca, who arrived late, casually chimed in, Leonardo turned his head and, with a smiling face, raised his middle finger.
Ting—
A token with alternating black and white borders bounced upward with a clear sound. A white-gloved hand snatched the trajectory as it spun and fell. Subsequently, Hugo opened his palm and stared quietly at the face of the token.
Staring with a furrowed brow, he turned his gaze toward the communication magic tool, which had been quiet lately.
“Hmm…”
A displeased sigh followed, and the token slid off his palm, landing randomly on the open newspaper. Ero’s face, printed in a huge size, was half-covered. Because of his dynamic appearance that seemed ready to burst through the paper, the obituary placed at the bottom did not receive much attention.
Having finished his deliberation, Hugo picked up the fountain pen he had set down and signed the documents that had occupied his office desk for a long time. At the top of the document, where the sharp pen nib scratched across the paper, was a purpose written in a somewhat stiff tone.
Request for Cooperation in Accessing Entry Lists and Adoption Records of Persons from Bermuda
Target Period: Year 975–985
Detailed Requested Data: Address of adoption placement and records of affiliation transfer
Responsible Person’s Signature: Hugo Agrizendro
After drawing the final stroke, he scanned the document quickly and pressed his palm over the signature that had not yet dried. A momentary flash of coldness flash-froze the ink. Having prepared the document for delivery by slipping it into a folder, he closed the cover with a low breath.