279: Chance of a Kill

279: Chance of a Kill

Beatrice was one of the last to arrive at the arena, followed shortly by Olivia.

“Good luck,” Bob said quietly and let Beatrice walk forward from one of the six winding paths while staying behind himself. Beatrice took a few steps forward and looked around at the competition that she had left. Fourteen others and one more, Olivia, approaching from a nearby rocky path that led to the arena, guided by a shirtless, black-masked guard of her own.

Among the remaining participants was the infamous Number Seven, a giant of a man that seemed to be placed in a different category compared to the others. Others included: the dark-dressed, pale-skin girl that popped her bubblegum while killing time and calmly waiting for the next round; a redhead girl in a white and blue uniform with a dark and brooding aura enveloping her; a gray wolfkin with emerald eyes that looked like he was born in fights, raised in fights, and would die in senseless fights; an unassuming human girl who Beatrice last saw getting double-teamed by her teammates before the first round.

Beatrice blinked and shook her head, wondering if she misrecognized the girl, but—not finding fault in her own memory—the succubus was left wondering how this innocent-looking girl managed to survive and murder two or three of her team to make it to this round.

Beatrice looked up and saw the little monster of a hairball have a discussion with one of the white-mask figures. Even without seeing their mouths move, hidden behind their oval masks, the body language and gestures betrayed a hidden dialogue. Beatrice could not hear a single word the announcer said, despite the fact that previously the slightest chuckle coming from that beastkin’s mouth was louder than a desperate cry of another dying participant in the arena. Some kind of enhancement magic, Beatrice concluded and, seeing as she seemed to have some time to kill before the round began, went to Olivia to talk to her zealous friend.

“Did you have a good rest?” Beatrice asked Olivia with a smile, approaching the petite ninja from the side.

“Y-yeah… Fantastic! Slept and ate, and had all sorts of fun!” Olivia said dismissively, averting her eyes from Beatrice. “What about you?”n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Oh, can’t complain,” Beatrice said as she scratched her neck. “Made a few unexpected friends.”

That caught Olivia’s attention as she sharply switched her gaze to Beatrice, eyeing the succubus through her one eye with frustration, while the other was obstructed with layers of her long, bleached bangs.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-no!” Olivia averted her gaze again.

Beatrice chuckled. The succubus had thought to bring up Olvia’s stalker that had suspicious similarities to a certain someone, but after a second consideration decided that it would be petty. Instead, Beatrice wanted to bring up a far more serious concern. “How did your first round go?”

“Great! A piece of cake! I thought it would be more of a challenge, but I overestimated my competition.”

“What will you do if we end up facing each other in a battle to the death?”

“Ah?”

“Hadn’t you considered such a possibility? Whether we both have something to prove or test our skills or something else, what will you do if you have to fight me? Your decision for us to go separate ways ended up fortunate, but if we were on the same team, only one of us would be alive right now… Did you know how the first round would turn out?”

“Not precisely,” Olivia hesitated. “They always change up the rules. It was probably just as likely that they would have the teams kill each other…”

“And if we have to fight each other this round?”

“I would aim to strike you down at the first opportunity!”

“Oh?” Beatrice was slightly surprised by such a bold proclamation. Though thinking about it, any other train of thought would make little sense for Olivia to join these games at the same time as Beatrice.

“The more time...I spend with you,” Olivia muttered quietly, gathering her resolve. “I slip further and further away from my goal!”

“But I told you—”

“The fault is with me!” Olivia snapped at Beatrice. “So much pleasure… Endless indulgence… Giving in to base desires instead of focusing on my duty…”

“Olivia—”

“I HATE MYSELF!” Olivia screamed with her eyes closed, drawing attention from several participants.

“It’s… It’s all good in the head of the moment,” Olivia said quietly while looking at her feet. “It feels great. Amazing even! I’m having the time of my life with you! I never would have even imagined myself to be capable to sink to such depths. Giving up my body. My duty. My very soul! But after each of those sinful pleasures, I want to kill myself from shame even as I’m wet and horny from the mere reminiscence of the guilty joy I feel!”

“I told you I’d save your sister!”

“How do I know that!?” Olivia asked and looked at Beatrice with fury in her eye. “All you do is fuck left and right whoever you fancy! Even here! ‘New friends’? They’re all scum! Deplorable monsters that get hard or wet as they watch us slaughter each other! If there was any truth to your promises, you would have stopped this abhorrent event by now! If you do not have the strength or will to do that, why should I believe in your empty promises to help me with my goal?”