A stunned silence fell upon the arena when the announcer declared me the winner. All I could hear was the sound of my heart pounding in my ears and my own labored panting. It didn’t take long for that to change, however.

Booooooooooooo!

What the hell, still booing me?!

Angry faces populated the audience in every section. They were all too far off to see in clear detail from where I was, but it was easy to tell from their jeering and mannerisms alone.

Screw all of you idiots too. Whatever, thank gods that’s finally over.

A team of medics rushed out onto the field, extracted Emil from the pond, and loaded him onto a stretcher. They began to work on his wounds while wheeling him to the back. Meanwhile, I was helped up by the referee. The pain was still excruciating in my stomach, but a medic noticed and hovered a healing orb over me. It didn’t do much, but it was a temporary measure, apparently.

“Come on, this way,” the referee said as he helped me walk out of the forest and to the center of the field. When we got there, he raised my hand, still wearing a shocked expression, and a massive display of fireworks shot up and exploded in the sky above the arena.

What in the…

While the demonstration was breathtaking, it was an overblown celebration that took an eternity to end and felt far more appropriate for the conclusion of the gauntlet in its entirety rather than the first round.

When the pyrotechnics show concluded, I took note of the stadium staff all around me. They appeared panicked, yelling into their earpieces, and rushing back and forth.

That’s when it hit me.

The fireworks, the boos, the referee’s odd demeanor—it was all clear what was going on.

I really wasn’t supposed to win, huh?

A man in a suit came out of one of the tunnels and began jogging up to me. I shot the referee a confused glance, and he said, “you’re required to do a post-match interview.”

Oh come on already!

The interviewer slowed his pace when he got to me and cleared his throat. He prepared a microphone, and a cameraman approached me, sticking the lens very close to my face.

“Well, Mr. Watanabe,” the interviewer started. He sounded baffled. “Somehow, against all odds, it appears you’ve emerged victorious in your battle against Prince Emil LeClair.” The crowd viciously booed that statement, and the interviewer pulled his collar in response.

I ground my teeth hearing the audience response, and my eyes couldn’t help but wander up to the other royals who were all watching from above in their skyboxes.

“So, tell us what’s on your mind right now,” the interviewer pressed. He pointed the microphone at me as a spiteful chant of “demon eyes” followed.

Sick to death of being jeered for breathing, I snapped right into a rant. “Oh, I’m sorry, was that not how that was supposed to go?! LeClair was supposed to skip rope with my intestines, and you would all have yourselves a big, fat royal wedding, right?! Well, let this be a lesson to all of you, especially all you arrogant, entitled royals up there. You think you’re special? Yeah, so did LeClair. He went on and on about his family prophecy, but you know what? The Watanabe family prophecy says I just kicked his ass. And all of you are next.”

The boos were so loud that I was positive they caused the entire province to quake.

The interviewer shook his head in distress and tried to ask another question, but I interrupted him. “Nuh-uh, stop right there. What’s your name?”

“Tony,” he replied.

“Well, Tony. I have nothing else to say. ‘Demon eyes’ signing off.”

Fed up, I limped off the field and back through the entrance tunnel.

The medical staff tried to take me to the infirmary, but I shrugged them off. I needed some time to myself, and I was going to get it, no matter how much pain I was in.

***

I sat in my dressing room, collecting my thoughts and coming down from the adrenaline of the fight and its surrounding circus.

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I actually did it…

As much as it irritated me that the entire world had written me off, it would have been disingenuous for me to pretend that I too wasn’t shocked that I somehow pulled off a win. The joy of victory hadn’t kicked in yet, and it wouldn’t get a chance to, it seemed.

A knock at my door spoiled any opportunity to enjoy solitude or relish in my win. But that was okay, because I was going to let whoever the culprit on the other side of the door was have it for disrupting my peace and quiet.

I swung the door open, not quite sure who I was expecting to see on the other side.

“What do you want?!” I growled before the door fully opened. My irritation became intense confusion when I came face to face with Killian Schröder.

“…”

“…”

Neither of us said a word. Instead, he stared right through me with a stare so cold it eclipsed even the frigidness of Luitgard von Eisenhardt.

Of all the people who could have knocked on my door, why this guy?

Finally, the dark-haired, stone-faced prince spoke. “I’m impressed. It seems I underestimated you.”

“Oh, so it talks?”

“Very funny. I have to say, I didn’t expect you to dissect Emil’s mind like that. Using his trauma against him was an interesting move. You’re not afraid to get your hands dirty, are you?”

I shuddered at his “praise”. Something about the aura surrounding him was noxious and it was choking me to death the more he spoke. I just wanted him gone and far away from me.

“I don’t fight fair,” I said matter-of-factly.

“By any means necessary. I see. We’re similar in that way.”

“Is there some reason you’re here? I have things to do.”

“Yes,” he started. “I came because I understand you’ve been told that if you lose in this gauntlet, things go back to normal for you. I’m afraid you’ve been severely misinformed about that.”

“Huh?”

He pushed into the room, getting uncomfortably close to me. “Until the powers that be decide that I’m your opponent, I strongly advise that you keep winning each battle. Consider defeat death.”

My body trembled involuntarily. I wasn’t consciously afraid of him or his blatant threat, but something instinctual inside me was reacting to an imperceivable but undeniable danger.

“Are you done?” I asked.

“Act as tough as you like. You think I don’t see you shaking at the other end of that façade?”

“You think you’re intimidating me, but you’re actually just pissing me off. Funny you’re trying to scare me, but you wouldn’t have tracked me down just to run your mouth if you weren’t afraid of me.”

Killian’s lips curved into a smirk, but his stare remained piercing and frozen. “They say you should never argue with a fool, so I’ll be taking my leave now. But you know, they also say that a fool would never recognize the devil. Even when he’s standing right in front of him.”

Puzzle pieces clicked together in my head, and I felt a sinking feeling swiftly develop in my chest. Killian exited the room, and another prince caught the door before it could shut. This time, it was Eli.

“Uh, was that Killian leaving the room just now?”

“Yeah…”

“Oh boy… Well, you won your fight, and we had a promise. So, now might be a really good time to tell you that—”

“Killian is the guy who attacked me at the casino.”

“Y-Yeah,” Eli confirmed, stumbling on his words. “How did you know?”

“Let’s just say I figured it out.”

Eli expelled a breath that resided somewhere between amusement and frustration. “There’s a lot about that guy that you and I gotta talk about. But I heard that your family and friends were looking for you. They’ll probably pop in soon, so that discussion will have to wait until later. For now, I’ll make this visit quick and say I’m glad you won. Nice work out there.”

“Am I going to get a performance review from all of you royals or what?”

“Pffft. My bad! I was just floored watching you in action is all. Using the information I gave you about Emil’s family against him was a vicious strategy, that’s for sure. You’re just full of surprises.”

My foot gained a mind of its own, tapping on the floor. “Oh, you think so?”

“Yep. In hindsight, I guess I should’ve seen it coming. But the other royals all seemed surprised too.” He appeared lost in thought for a brief moment, seemingly revisiting something in his mind. “You know, Shinsuke, you’re difficult to get a read on. A true enigma.”

Whatever that means.

“I don’t know whether I should be flattered or concerned that you’re trying to figure me out.”

Eli chuckled and said, “definitely the former. Also, how bout’ that post-match interview? Man, every time you get on camera you have a normal one, don’tcha?”

“Let’s not go there again. Besides, I meant everything I said out there.”

“My bad! But yeah, message received.” Voices echoed from outside the room and down the hall, getting closer by the second. Eli smirked and said, “sounds like that’s my cue to get out of here. Congrats on the big win, keep it up. We’ll talk more soon.”

Eli departed with a playful salute, and, not long after, my parents, Eva, and Mizuki came barreling into the room.

“There you are!” mom exclaimed, yanking me into a hug. “Hell yeah, that’s my boy! You did it!” Dad, Mizuki, and Eva piled on top of one another, and I was smashed into a Shinsuke sandwich.

“T-Too tight…!” I gasped.

“My son’s a fighter!” dad added, proudly.

Mizuki squeezed me harder. “I will never have anything less than absolute faith in you, Shinsuke. I never doubted you for a second.”

Can’t breathe!

Unable to see in the forced huddle I was in, I rapidly tapped someone’s back, desperately trying to alert them that while I appreciated the victory celebration, I was kinda being smothered to death.

“Oh!” Eva vocalized. It seemed it was her back that I had been using as a drum for my SOS message. “Um, I think he needs some space!”

Everyone released me at last and I winced. Even though I had been partially healed following my battle, I was still not in great shape. Eva seemed to observe this fact.

“Geez, you still haven’t had your wounds treated yet. Come on, I’ll take you to the infirmary,” she decided.

“I can go alone, it’s fine.”

“Nope. I’m taking you and that’s final!”

Eva spun around and announced to the others that she would be escorting me to the infirmary and that we would return in a bit. They continued their celebration as the two of us left the room together.

On the way, I thought about my encounter with Killian. He had implied that we were similar in our methods, and something about that—among other things concerning that guy—didn’t sit right with me. I started to wonder about my actions.

I started to wonder about Emil.