Chapter 853 - Who do you take me for? (Patreon)

“It seems they are giving us time to greet each other before they barge in,” Victoria says, looking out the window.

She is the same as always. Black hair, an emotionless face, and brown eyes, though one of them is a lighter brown color. And as always, she wears no armor and carries no items. She just wears simple clothes.

That causes me to look down at my white shirt from earth and blue sweatpants. Looking at her, I notice how clean her clothes are and do my best to dust mine off, though there is not much I can do about the blood.

Even without turning to me, she says, “It is too late for that, Natty.”

“I would probably have gotten changed if I knew I would be meeting you.”

“And that is the mistake. You should always try to be presentable. But I know very well no such thought even appeared in your mind.”

“No thoughts. Head empty,” I nod.

When Victoria turns away from the window, she has that small, almost imperceptible smile as she reaches out and ruffles my short, buzzcut hair.

“Indeed, not a single thought has ever graced this head,” she feels my short stubble like hair before tapping my head with her open palm a few times and letting go. “But do not worry, I can do the thinking for both of us.”

“Sounds like a deal,” I smile at her. “Has everything gone well for you as of late?”

“Reasonably well, though likely not as well as for the famous Mana Tyrant himself.”

“Vic…”

"I have heard he manipulates mana with such beauty that mana itself stops and watches, eager to listen to his commands."

“Tell me right now who said that bullshit.”

“Someone from your guild. They also said your rare smiles melt hearts quicker than your thermal energy. Though, Natty, I do not know what this haircut will do for that reputation.”

“My hair was taken from me against my will.”

“Just like your last few brain cells, and that is why I have to keep an eye on you so you do not push yourself.”

“I have been schemed against, Vic, and they chose to use you as my only weakness. But I mean it, it is nice to see you.”

“Such a charmer,” she moves and sits down. Instead of choosing a nearby chair, I sit on the small couch next to her, and we look out of the window. “How much do you know about this quest?” she asks.

“You know me. Not much.”

“Indeed. So, for your information, this quest is available every fifty or so years and is organized by the Halcyon Trust Company. They always try to have one to three people from the tutorial, usually S-ranks. I heard they kept asking for Nyssa Volare ever since she became an S-rank and tried to reserve her, but she rejected them. Then they tried Lyraen, and he almost came, until a certain thief from Earth stole the key he worked so hard to get, and now he is trying to hunt her down.”

“It is quite insulting for us to be the third option.”

“Insulting or not, looking at it from their perspective, there is a clear logic behind it. Given the nature of this game, it is obvious they prefer the concept of the Gwyn siblings over either of us individually. It is highly likely they will try to pit us against each other at some point, simply for the drama it would bring.”

“Well, it would suck for them if one of us just forfeits then.”

“Yes,” Victoria nods. “There are usually three events, though they change them often. The first one will be something to filter people out, a place where they throw all the participants for one to three days. After that, there are some interviews and shows, another event, more appearances, and then the final event.”

“Vic, I am starting to like this less and less.”

“Does it seem boring to you?”

“A bit, but mostly annoying because of the interviews and stuff.”

“Good. That means you will have ample time to rest. But do not forget to not trust anyone. The producers will try their best to create an interesting show, meaning they do not care for this to be fair.”

We talk for a while longer when a selari man barges in, smiling widely and wearing a dark blue suit, “Miss Gwyn and Mister Gwyn, it is my pleasure to meet you!”

His skin and hair are both pink, and he has white freckles, while his eyes are green and blue. Just a typical selari in looks. He continues to smile, sending in a few more people behind him. Among them is a big, grapefruit-sized black orb that has what seems like four blue lenses. It zaps around, seemingly pointing its lenses at us and zooming in. Another, smaller orb, about the size of a ping-pong ball, follows it, covered in what seems like fuzzy hair. Maybe a microphone?

“I am Melek, the face of the Games, proudly sponsored by the Halcyon Trust Corporation! Please, completely ignore the recording devices. We are just capturing some juicy material for your grand introduction, or perhaps a future highlight reel once you make it deep into the games! Your Handlers already handed over some footage, which we will absolutely be finding a home for.”

Finally, he shuts down his barrage of speed-talking. With his hands at his sides, he looks at us and smiles. “Gwyn Siblings! Now that truly has a nice ring to it! The organizers are going to love it. Of course, there are plenty of other fascinating characters out there, and this poor host only has one mortal body to get around to them all. But don't you worry, you will be beautifully taken care of by your team, which is only going to grow the further you advance into the game!”

Swiftly, he reaches Victoria and, with a slight bow and his left hand behind his back, offers the palm of his right hand to her. Of course, my sister seems to know what to do and puts her hand on top of his, with her fingers touching his palm. Melek then slides his hand back and swings it to his side in a surprisingly annoying and elegant-looking gesture.

When he stands up, he looks at me.

I look at him.

Then he just waves at me, his smile growing even wider. “It has been ages since anyone still inside their tutorial won the Games, so I wish you both the absolute best of luck!” he chirps, acting as if nothing awkward had just happened. Then he rushes out, his entourage trailing behind him as the video and audio drones buzz in a tight circle around us one last time before leaving.

I am usually a very friendly and forgiving guy, but I do not like that man.

We are left with the selari woman called Selene, and two more people who seem to help her. We are swiftly led to a different room with such speed and haste that it looks like the games will start in the next two minutes.

In the hallway, we meet a few more groups like that with potential game attendees, and I, the same as Victoria, give longer looks to these people. Just like them, we do some “friendly” probing.

I seem to have better senses in that way than Victoria, mainly thanks to my Preeminence Eyes and some more specialized training. I mean, my senses need to be decent; after all, at this point, a gray lizard headbutting my body would probably destroy it if I failed to detect it.

Plus, my hatred for stealth combat types runs deep. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if it evolved into a fourth trait or showed up in my DNA.

Of course, I keep all to a strict 30% to 50% limit of my capabilities, just as Victoria ordered. My sister must know what she is doing, so I'd better listen to her.

I also catch myself being in a better mood just thanks to her being here with me, with a constant current of shared memories swimming to the surface. Even if they are bad ones, they feel precious because she was there with me. I think Tess is correct in saying that suffering together, or going through shared trauma, connects people.

It becomes easier for me to keep my mind together, and I do not have to push that hard to feel like myself again, though I find that any sort of stimulus helps, even if it is just people moving around.

We are separated into two rooms, where I take a shower after checking to see if there are any cameras. After all, I do not know this galaxy’s customs, so maybe they would show that in a pre-show or something. Just some announcer shouting and ranking the participants by... I shake my head and step out from the now non-working shower that I took apart to observe how it functions.

Once back in the room, my Earth clothes are gone. Stolen, possibly to become a relic to be sold or kept in a vault forever, unique items made by a planet many light-years away. When Victoria and I win the Game, those clothes will probably make someone very rich.

There are replacements for them that I put on, and they fit so perfectly that I feel goosebumps rise on the back of my neck. I check them for some sort of hidden inscriptions, marks, and such, but they are as normal as they come.

Once I enter the small waiting room where Victoria sits, I understand a bit more about why they picked these outfits. Both of us wear the same black, high neck shirts with long sleeves and dark brown pants. They do not feel like a simple cotton fabric, but have a sort of design that might be trendy here, and the materials feel nice. However, my shirt is thicker, like a sweater, while Victoria’s shows off her figure more.

“We will have to find the pervert that-” I do not get to finish as Selene barges in, followed by her two assistants.

She looks us over, nods in satisfaction, and gestures at Victoria. "Please sit there, my dear."

My sister listens and sits down. After Selene presses a button, five or so shelves shoot up from the surrounding walls. The two women who came with Selene rush to them, picking up mysterious items, and start to work on Victoria’s hair and face.

"You have a striking expression, beautifully framed by the structure of your face. To emphasize your presence, we will keep the makeup minimal and simply enhance your natural features. Just a touch to deepen the color of your lips, and some shading around the eyes to make that gaze even more piercing. Combined with a clean, combat-ready hairstyle, it will be perfect. Iset, let's go with the style the Cordonian warrior princesses have been favoring lately."

"Yes, Lady Selene," the woman answers.

Meanwhile, I sit on a chair and watch curiously while Victoria takes it all so patiently. When they are done, she does not even look that different. It is still my sister, though I have to agree that the way her hair is styled looks cool.

"Is everything to your satisfaction, my dear?" Selene asks Victoria.

"Does it matter whether it is or is not? But thank you for the effort you put in." Victoria stands up with an elegant but powerful movement, reminding the women exactly who they might be dealing with.

However, Selene seems to regain her balance quickly. She smiles, gesturing at the other two, who rush toward me. The selari woman looks at me with her arms crossed over her chest while the other two wait.

"There is really not much we can do with your hair unless you let us grow it out a bit. Fortunately, we have an exceptional hair serum crafted by the Healing Order of Absolute Zerathusa..."

"I do not mind. You can grow it a bit, maybe to finger-length or something like that."

"That would be fantastic, honey! Just like your sister, you have a striking face that will look absolutely gorgeous on the promotional materials. Now, could you share your Constitution level with me? This serum comes in quite a few variants, and your Constitution dictates exactly how it interacts."

"Yep, not telling."

Selene narrows her eyes, but quickly sighs and claps her hands together. "Well, of course, you are from some backward, rural planet and still stuck in your tutorial. It is only natural that you would behave a bit... Well, never mind!" Her smile widens as she condescendingly looks me over. "Considering you were actually chosen to come here, your level must be close to 390, taking into account that you have over a year left in the tutorial. Oh yes, I did my homework and saw the promotional materials."

She is smiling like she caught me, that sort of kind smile people use when they are dealing with a child or someone stubborn they have the upper hand over. "You have been introduced as a combat mage specializing in mid-range to close-range combat. An amplifier with a relatively high mana stat, meaning your Constitution could be about... 600! Iset, give me the level nine serum!"

"Yes, Lady Selene!" Iset quickly hands Selene a bottle. The selari woman takes it, puts on gloves, steps closer victoriously, and starts carefully applying it to my hair by massaging it in.

It tingles and feels nicely warm. It is comfortable, so I do not even complain.

Once Selene steps away, I watch her face as she says, "Now we wait and-"

Her words stop as my hair begins to grow rapidly. Instead of finger-length, it cascades down my shoulders, down my back, and over the chair. It touches the floor and then grows even a bit further.

There is so much of it that I can barely see her face through the luscious locks draping over my eyes, but I just sit there calmly, looking back at her.

Silly woman. Who do you take me for? My Constitution is barely 100.

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