Tilting his head to the side and popping his neck loudly, Cynrik followed up with a sniffle and walked back over toward his brother.
[You know, I bitch about you being paranoid all the time, but this really takes the cake, Cyn. Apart from how, why were you even concerned about the staff?] Brance asked as he tossed a glance at the cripple Spy as several security guards came to arrest him.
[He had too many tells in his body language. From the moment he saw us, he had that arrogant attitude. Plus, he kept subtly fidgeting as he spoke. Then partner that, with all the other nervous ticks he had, it wasn't hard to figure out something was going on.] Shrugging his shoulders, Cynrik quickly texted Geralt, telling him what happened and waiting for a response.
[And the first guy wasn't on your radar?] Feeling that Cynrik wasn't telling the whole story, Brance pushed for answers.
[Eh, that guy is too much like you, honest as shit, and clearly wears all his emotions and thoughts for everyone to see. For example, when I didn't do a standard force grip greeting and instead opted for a customary handshake, he was a little bit too excited by the prospect that I wasn't someone with Young Master Syndrome.]
[That was enough to recognize him as incapable of being a spy. Or at least it was; seeing how quickly he went into action to subdue the Spy is a little sketchy.] Cynrik's eyes flickered with light as he activated [Mana Sight] and glanced at the security guards carting off the prisoner.
Recognizing the faint light glowing in his older brother's eyes, Brance followed suit and activated his ocular skill. However, after a few seconds of not seeing anything out of the ordinary, Brance squinted his eyes in confusion.
[What are we looking for?] He asked with hesitation in case Cynrik was doing some kind of detective work he was unaware of.
[Nothing; I am committing their Mana signature to memory, just in case.] Flicking his eyes toward Brance and spotting the confused look on his younger brother's face, Cynrik sighed and explained his reasoning, but not before harassing him.
[How the fuck have you not recognized that everyone's Mana signature is slightly different by now? We've had [Mana Sight] since birth, and I noticed it within days of learning how to activate the skill.]
[Listen, I don't have that stupid attention to detail you so proudly boast about, just explain already.] Brance snorted as he stepped back a bit to distance himself from the irate Cynrik.
[Ugh, it's like fingerprints. No two people have the same Mana Signature; to my knowledge, it isn't easily detected. Or at least that is my theory. I am confident some devices exist that can detect personalized signatures, like databases that compile fingerprints.]
[However, I have yet to come in contact with such a device. Since we arrived at VSFA, I've been subtly memorizing people's Mana Signatures and keeping them categorized in the back of my mind.]
[And let me guess, you suspect that the crippled guy will be back in action relatively quickly because one or more of those guards are working for our enemies?] Brance added as he hid the "Ah HA!" expression threatening to appear on his face.
[Pretty much, what you call paranoid, I call being ready for any scenario; thus, I take mental snapshots of everyone we interact with. This way, I don't get caught off guard when shit hits the fan later. And mark my words, expect shit to hit the fan at some point.] Cynrik stated while checking his vibrating Watcet.
Reading through the text, Cynrik dropped his arm and walked away from the members of MyrkLys toward Rimsfel, who was deep in conversation with the first Event Organizer.
"How did this happen, with how tight security is? Explain to me how someone could infiltrate your ranks and propose a falsified contract to my Team?" With evident fury in his voice, Rimsfel stood imposingly over the Staff member.
This was when Cynrik arrived and cut in by walking up beside the Head Dean and tapping him on the shoulder.
"It's okay; we are used to this kind of shit. There's a reason I am so adamant about doing things my way Head Dean. Anyway, I have already informed the Headmaster, and he has informed the higher-ups."
BUZZZ BUZZZ BUZZ
As if waiting for Cynrik's announcement, the Event Organizer and Rimsfel's Watcet's began vibrating obnoxiously. The Organizer excused himself to take the call, and Rimsfel opened a video conference with Geralt.
After a brief conversation, the Event Organizer returned and was promoted because of what happened, meaning it was now his job to issue the Contestant Contracts.
With that information in hand, the Event Organizer, who introduced himself as Jeremy Astro, sent over the formal contracts to the members of MyrkLys. After another round of reading the lengthy contract, Cynrik gave a nod of approval and signed it before having the other group members sign it as well.
Although nearly identical to the fake contract, this one expanded the roaming area, allowed contestants to move around five city blocks on their daily break, and gave the members of MyrkLys free tickets to any of the competition events.
Their apartment was also upgraded to a swanky and expensive one, unlike the basic apartment given to most Competitors. As it turns out, lodgings distribution was based on Academy ranking in the previous Competition. With the upgrade, MyrkLys now had an apartment similar to the one given to top-10 Academy teams.
However, benefits aside, the most significant change was all the entrapment clauses Cynrik had rooted out in the fake contract. What it boiled down to was you were allowed to defend yourself if another Academy Team attacked you first, but you would need proper evidence proving it was self-defense.
With the contracts sorted, and the Spy taken to parts unknown to be interrogated, Mr. Jeremy, as he liked to be called, ushered everyone through the Airport like TTP and down to a sizeable black hover van.
"This is where we will be parting ways, I again apologize for the incident, but I hope that the added benefits you have received will be enough for you to drop this matter and not spread it." Extending his hand to Cynrik, who returned the handshake, Mr. Jeremy was practically begging that everyone keep the whole thing under wraps.
"No problem, Mr. Jeremy, so long as everything listed in the contract is in our new lodging; I have no problem letting this go," Cynrik said with a smile that wasn't a smile under his hood.
With that said, the members of MyrkLys, Garrison, and Rimsfel piled into the vehicle and began making their way across town toward the colossal Arena.
Having spent some time in Valor City, Cynrik and Brance knew precisely where they were heading. Still, even if they didn't, it was hard to miss the massive domed Arena that stood over 100 meters tall and could easily pack in over a million people and was the equivalent of 60 American football fields packed into one place.
Although Valor City was filled with magnificent skyscrapers similar to Tokyo or Dubai, the city's blueprint seemed to have been made with the Arena in mind since, from just about any street, you would be able to get a relatively clear view of the giant dome.
Riding in the car's front seat, Cynrik leaned back in the comfy chair with his arms crossed and eyes closed. Yet, even so, he had his [Mana Sight] active and was constantly observing the surroundings, and with good reason.
[[We've got company,]] Cynrik stated in the group mind link, causing Brance and Selene to stiffen.
[[How many?]] Activating his [Mana Sight] and casually looking out the windows as if sightseeing, Brance quickly located several suspicious cars sporadically following at different ranges.
[[I've spotted eight packed Hover-Suvs, with each having a minimum of five battle-ready enemies, each of which is between Tier-3 and Mid-Tier-4. OH, Would you look at that? Our little Cripple friend is with them.]] Cynrik snorted with a sadistic grin tugging at his lips.
[[Fuck, guys, if there are as many of them as you say, we can't fight them. If it were two, maybe even three groups, our chances wouldn't be that bad, especially with Instructor Garrison and Head Dean Rimsfel.]] Selene cut in a while, wearing a worried expression hidden under her hood.
[[It's no biggy, I've got a plan, everyone buckle up and make sure the others have both their harness and seatbelts on.]] Cynrik said before uncrossing his arms.
"Garrison, don't freak out, but we've got a large number of enemies tailing us. When I give you the signal, I want you to swap seats with me, and I will lose them." Dropping his hood and unbuckling his seatbelt, Cynrik spoke up, startling most of the people in the car, especially Garrison and Rimsfel.
"How bad is it? I know you and your brother have that strange ocular skill, but I need exact numbers." Although caught off guard, it wasn't like Garrison was an innocent man, and he was well aware that Cynrik wouldn't joke about something this serious.
"I've spotted about eight different suspicious vehicles, and most of the people in them are from that group of guards who carted off that asshole before we left. Not to mention they healed the guy and brought him with them. Swap with me now." The moment he said the words, in a flash, Cynrik and Garrison swapped seats, with Garrison now sitting in the passenger seat and Cynrik behind the steering wheel.
"Do you even know how to drive? I mean, you aren't even old enough yet." Rimsfel complained from the second of four-row seats as he fastened the waist belt and the two strapped harnesses that covered his shoulders.
"Nope, never driven one of these before, but how hard can it be? I've played hundreds of flight simulators, and I should be good to go with a few adjustments." After making sure the auto-pilot was still on, Cynrik quickly pulled the waist belt across his body, buckled it, and grabbed both the shoulder straps from either side of the seat's headrest to buckle them between his legs.
Next, using his Watcet and the program he used to take control of their dorm's security measures back at VSFA, Cynrik hacked into the onboard computer system to disengage any safety features that limited things such as speed and flight height.
"Crrrstt, This is your captain speaking; welcome aboard Umbral Airlines, where your comfort isn't guaranteed. The wind speeds at our cruising altitude are relatively weak, so I don't expect to see too much turbulence. However, since we will be taking some sharp turns and radically climbing periodically, I would like everyone to buckle both sets of safety belts at this time." Sitting up straight and gripping the U-shaped steering wheel with his left hand and his right hand taking hold of the throttle on the center console, Cynrik chirped like an experienced commercial pilot.
"Oh, for fucks sake, Kid, you better not get us killed!" Garrison complained as he pulled out a handful of paper bags and passed them back to the members of MyrkLys, just in case.
"Bah, what are you worried about, Garrison? If you thought you could outrun them, you would have never given me the wheel." Flashing a smile and re-tieing his ponytail, Cynrik adjusted the rear-view mirror and looked at everyone in the back seats.
"It's twenty kilometers to the Arena, and these guys behind us aren't about to make it easy for us to arrive. So hang on to your underwear, folks; the ride is about to get bumpy." With that said, Cynrik disengaged the autopilot, pushed the throttle to full speed, and pulled back on the steering column, forcing the hover-van's engines to whine loudly as the vehicle banked hard skyward, forcing everyone into their seats.
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