Chapter 55 - Counting Beers

I ran the numbers again, my mind spinning as the implications sank in. Out of the original 100 pairs competing in the second round of the Licensure Examination Tournament, only three pairs will ultimately walk away with a license. Just three. That stark reality made it nearly certain: Myrrh and I might have to face Michelle in our final two matches.

Michelle and Aurelio—third-year legends, and the top-ranked WAIFU and WEEB operators—stood like an immovable mountain on the horizon of this tournament. The thought of battling them sent a nervous shiver through me. They were obstacles so massive, it was hard to believe we’d ever climb over them. And yet, despite their looming reputation, we’d barely scratched the surface of what they were capable of.

“Drones,” Cindy had said when we talked about Michelle earlier. Drones? The word felt alien to me as a weapon. My own clearance level wasn’t high enough to access that kind of technology, but it made sense. Third-years operated at a Clearance Level of 25 or higher, so who knew what other surprises they had in their arsenal?

Part of me wanted to pray—not for victory, but to avoid facing Michelle entirely. Yet, the gambler in me whispered a different tune. What if we took the risk? What if Myrrh and I managed to stand toe-to-toe with the third-year dean’s listers and beat them?

It wasn’t just about the licenses anymore—it was about the challenge, the thrill of pitting ourselves against the best. The conflict gnawed at me, a strange mix of fear and excitement twisting in my chest.

I glanced over at Myrrh, who was absorbed in a video call with Fei. The glow from her screen highlighted her lime-blonde hair as it shifted slightly with every movement. In the background, Neil lounged in his hospital bed, eating orange slices like he didn’t have a care in the world. His nonchalance was almost contagious.

“I saw your battle earlier, Myrrh! It was such a close call, but you were amazing!” Fei exclaimed, pumping her fists in excitement. Her vibrant energy leaped off the screen, her admiration evident. “What was that mysterious wing thing you did? I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Ahaha…” Myrrh’s cheeks flushed a soft pink as she scratched her cheek, clearly flustered by the praise. “That’s Zaft’s secret weapon. You’d have to ask him for the details,” she replied, her voice carrying a hint of bashfulness.

Myrrh smirked at me, a teasing glint in her blue eyes. I narrowed mine in response, shooting her a glare that I hoped conveyed my annoyance. She knew exactly what she was doing. The Weapons of Mass Destruction Series was meant to be a secret, but the Lightning Storm weapon—her so-called "Blade Wings"—wasn’t entirely hidden from the public. Documentation and videos of its use were all over the social media, though most people wouldn’t bother digging that deep.

For our close friends, though—the ones who understood the true nature of Myrrh’s Ultimate—the weapon’s sudden transformation might raise some eyebrows. Myrrh didn’t want to outright lie to them, so she’d conveniently left the responsibility of explaining—or not explaining—the truth squarely on my shoulders.

Great.

The thought made me sigh internally. Even if I did spill everything—the WMDs, the Machine God, all the classified details—I doubted anyone would take me seriously. It all sounded too fantastical, like something ripped out of a low-budget sci-fi film. Maybe that was the silver lining: I could technically tell the truth without any real consequences.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Fei on Myrrh’s camera, her wide, curious eyes lighting up as she spotted me.

“Hiya, Zaft!” she chirped, waving enthusiastically. Her energy was almost childlike, and I couldn’t help but smile a little. “What was that weapon?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Before I could answer, Neil popped into view, his casual demeanor now replaced with inquisitive excitement. “Yeah! I haven’t seen you equip that before!” he said, leaning closer to the camera with a grin. “Fei and I are really curious.”

Fei nodded vigorously, her small fists pumping in anticipation.

I hesitated for a moment, forcing a smile to mask my internal conflict. “I’ll tell you more about it… later,” I said, deliberately drawing out the words. “But only if we win the tournament.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t quite the truth either. Their eager faces softened the weight of the secret I carried, but the thought of divulging too much still made my chest tighten. Winning the tournament first would give me enough time to decide if—and how—I’d tell them everything.

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“Never mind that!” Cindy suddenly interjected, her voice brimming with excitement as she slung her arms casually around both Myrrh’s and my necks. “If you guys win the tournament, let’s hit up a club to celebrate! It’ll be our power couple’s treat, right, right?”

“Zaft will treat us all!” Myrrh chimed in with a playful wink, her teasing smile making it clear she was enjoying my impending doom. “Right, right?”

“No! No!” I protested, waving my hands in a futile attempt to deflect the pressure. “Why are you dumping all the expenses on me!?”

“Well, I’m kind of short on funds right now…” Myrrh clasped her hands together as if in prayer, her lime-green eyes sparkling with mischief. A blush crept across her cheeks, softening her expression into something impossibly cute. “Pweeeeease? I’ll pay it back, I promise!”

Her pleading tone, combined with that adorably bashful look, was a lethal combination. I sighed in defeat, feeling my resolve crumble. “F-Fine,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “But only if we win.”

“I’m sure you two will win!” Remuel declared, clapping a hand firmly on my shoulder. His wide grin and enthusiastic thumbs-up practically radiated confidence.

“Don’t count your beers before they’re brewed,” I shot back, rolling my eyes, though I couldn’t stop a small smirk from tugging at the corner of my lips.

The lighthearted banter eased some of the tension that had been weighing on my mind. Despite the pressure of the tournament, moments like these reminded me why we were fighting so hard—not just for the licenses, but for the bonds we shared and the memories we were creating along the way. That's the real prize of this tournament.

Who am I kidding? Of course I need that prize money, and ultimately, that internship job. I might go back to my old ways of gambling if I don't get a way to earn money while studying here in Xyraxis.

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I couldn’t decide if we were lucky or unlucky when the match announcements came through. The relief was immediate when I realized it wasn’t Michelle and her support unit we’d be facing. Her Examinee Number, 1, was practically etched into my brain by now. A quick glance confirmed that our next opponent bore a different number.

“For the fourth stage of this tournament, we will start with Examinee Number 11 versus Examinee Number 66!” Emcee Dianca’s voice echoed across the arena, amplified by the energy of the crowd.

Myrrh and I strode toward the arena, our steps in sync as the cheers around us swelled. The adrenaline in the air was almost tangible. When we reached the center, we finally got a good look at our opponents.

The WAIFU was a petite girl with freckles scattered across her cheeks and bright orange hair tied into playful pigtails. She stood confidently beside her support unit—a tall, lanky man with a long face, tan skin, and a distinct afro. Both wore red armbands, a clear sign that they were third-year students from Orbital Tech.

“Yo!” The tall man raised his hand in a casual wave, his tone friendly yet measured. “You’re that first-year who ranked fourth in the exams, right?”

Cold sweat trickled down my temple as I forced a smile. “Y-Yeah. Why?”

“I figured you’d be a tough opponent,” he replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as if sizing me up. “You’ve got some serious tricks up your sleeve—like those wings your WAIFU deployed in that earlier match. What’s that weapon called?”

I froze, a nervous jolt shooting through me. The Lightning Storm weapon wasn’t supposed to draw this much attention, but I should’ve known better. The craters left behind from its destructive power were still visible on the arena floor, silent yet undeniable evidence of its might. Maybe it really was too much for this tournament, no matter how justified its use had been.

“It’s my Ultimate,” Myrrh interjected smoothly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. She stepped forward, her gaze locking onto our opponents with unwavering confidence. “Now, stop being curious and get ready. We’re here to beat your asses.”

“Ziggy, that bitch grinds my gears,” the orange-haired WAIFU muttered, glaring daggers at Myrrh.

Myrrh, unfazed, smirked back, the subtle tilt of her lips practically daring her opponent to make a move.

“Calm down, Winey,” the opponent support unit said with a chuckle, his casual tone doing little to hide his excitement. “I’m actually thrilled to see what this duo can do. I’ve never seen a pair as dynamic as them. They remind me of Michelle and Aurelio.”

“Are you done?” Myrrh’s sharp glare cut through his words like a blade. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and placed a hand on her hip, radiating an air of unshakable confidence. "It would benefit us both if there's less talk and more beating."

“Okay, okay, I’m done,” he replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. A sly grin spread across his face. “Guess I’ll see this ‘Ultimate’ of yours in action soon enough.”

The exchange ended as both support units began walking toward the hover platforms. I glanced over at Myrrh, who shot me a reassuring nod before stepping into position. When we reached the platforms, they hummed to life, lifting us into the air with a smooth, gravity-defying motion.

Down below, the WAIFUs took their places, gripping their morphers tightly. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and the crowd’s cheers and murmurs buzzed like static in the background.

“This will be the fourth round of the Licensure Examination Tournament!” Emcee Miles’s voice boomed over the arena, his enthusiasm igniting the crowd. “Let the battle begin, baby!”

The whistle pierced the air, sharp and commanding.

In perfect unison, the two WAIFUs raised their morphers high. Their voices echoed through the arena with unyielding determination:

“Frame Unit, Awaken!”

A brilliant flash of light engulfed them, and when it subsided, the towering forms of their Frame Units dominated the battlefield.

Our opponent’s Frame Unit was an imposing sight—a massive mech clad in vibrant orange armor, its black skeletal frame adding a menacing edge. Its green, glowing eyes pierced through the haze of dust stirred by the transformation. Bulkier and more heavily armored than Myrrh’s sleeker Frame Unit, it exuded raw power, a physical declaration that this fight would be anything but easy.