The Tondo betting den pulses with raw energy, neon signs buzzing red and blue above a sea of bettors, their shouts echoing off graffitied walls like battle cries. Megascreens loop footage of Sallie Salcedo—double-barreled shotgun blazing—ripping through Andrea Fernandez and a concrete wall like tissue paper. Fourth High's blue-and-red banners sway from the ceiling like war flags in a digital storm. The air's thick with mana-vape sparks, the sour reek of spilled beer, and the metallic clang of pesos tossed onto dented tables.
Jolo wiry, flicking a vape pen, voice sharp with glee "Sallie's got this locked. That briefcase CAD? Morphs faster than my ex's moods—bam, shotgun one sec, longsword the next!" He slams a fistful of pesos down, grin stretching as he watches the replay of Fourth High's rout.
Migz heavyset, shirt damp with sweat, beer trembling in his grip
"Seventh High folded like wet paper. Andrea's fire fizzled out. But this Shiba talk? Man, that's another level."
He leans back, jaw tight, eyes glued to the megascreen as Celeste's silver tethers lash like serpents.
Lima braided hair, CAD ring glowing like a storm about to break
"Heard it straight from a port runner—Mendez says Sallie's the key to cracking Tatsuya Shiba. The Emperor's watching close, betting big." She leans in, eyes blazing, her vape flaring blue as her voice cuts through the noise like a blade.
Rico scarred cheek, HUD visor casting lines of code across his face
"Listen up! This ain't street rumor—Mendez is making moves. Sallie wins the Games, he's got a straight shot at Shiba. Word is there's a secret—some 'key' to tearing through Shiba's fortress." He adjusts his visor, odds ticking up: Fourth High at 1.6:1. The crowd hushes, then surges again.
Jolo laughing, manic energy spilling over
"Shiba? That guy's a walking apocalypse! But Sallie—no fear in that kid. Teleport in, shotgun blast, done deal. If he gets close, Shiba's toast." He punches the air, accidentally knocking over a stack of coins that scatter like shrapnel.
Lima smirking, voice smooth with danger "Even Mendez's own daughter—Gabriella—thinks Shiba's a goddamn army. But Sallie? He's not fazed. He's itching for it. Like it's a game and Shiba's the final boss."
She flicks her vape again, mana sparks drifting like fireflies through haze.
Migz skeptical, voice low and rough "A key? What, like a CAD override? A coded spell? Shiba's got Regrowth, Decomposition, and all that Yotsuba voodoo. Sallie's a beast, sure—but Japan's a fortress wrapped in myth." He swigs his beer like it might help the logic make sense.
Rico quiet, ominous "Doesn't matter what the key is. Mendez believes in it. Sallie wins, he's Mendez's spearhead. Japan's on the board now. And Sallie? Kid heard Shiba's the top of the food chain and said, 'Hell yes.'"
He leans in, tone dropping like a storm cloud rolling in.
Tomas drunk, wild-eyed, bottle dangling "Sallie's loco! Saw him in the pit—no fear, no chill, just carnage. If he drops Shiba, we ain't just watching—we're marching on Tokyo!"
He stumbles forward, bottle clinking, laughter swallowed by the crowd's roar as the megascreen flashes Sallie's post-duel grin.
The female rich bettor with voice sharp as broken glass "I'm betting everything on Fourth High. Sallie and Celeste? They're gunning for Pinnacle, no brakes. Shiba's just the encore."
She slams her palm on the table. The screen explodes with Sallie's smirk, and the room goes wild.
Rico visor flickering, voice like gravel
"Word is… the Emperor found the key. Only one thing can crack through Shiba's barrier—open the door no one's been able to force. Sallie's that key."
The room stills for a beat. Even the vape smoke seems to hang in place.
Lima low, intense
"Gabriella couldn't do it. Mendez's own blood—she's top-tier, but even she says Shiba's untouchable. A one-man army. Tactical magic, precision casting, emotionless execution. She won't go near him."
She flicks her CAD ring; sparks trail like ghost-fire.
Jolo eyes wide, almost reverent
"But Sallie? Kid didn't flinch. Heard Shiba was the strongest and grinned like it was Christmas morning. Said, 'Point me at him.'"
He lets out a short, awed laugh, shaking his head.
Migz soft, almost in disbelief
"And that's the deal? He wins the Duel Tournament... and he gets his dream match? In an actual war?"
He whistles, low and slow.
Rico nodding, deadly serious
"That's it. One-on-one. On the battlefield. Shiba goes down, and it's over. No more counterforce, no more phantom calculations. If Sallie ends him—for real—Japan's gates swing open."
Tomas shouting, barely standing "Free ticket to Nippon, boys! If Shiba's done, it's open season. Mendez ain't just taking land—he's carving history!"
The crowd explodes again—cheers, coins, beer, CAD sparks lighting up the den like a lightning storm.
Lima grinning like a wolf "Sallie's got no brakes. Fourth High wins the Duel? That's not the end. It's the damn prelude. The real fight's just getting started."
Jolo hoarse from shouting "Sallie vs. Shiba. Hell of a title match. No second chances. One shot to break the legend."
---
The Mall of Asia Arena's hallway buzzed with the hum of mana-charged lights, their neon glow casting jagged streaks across polished steel walls. The distant roar of the crowd pulsed like a heartbeat, muffled by the corridor's reinforced panels, as the semifinals loomed.
The air carried the faint scent of ozone from active CADs and the tang of sweat-soaked uniforms. Sallie Mae Salcedo sauntered toward the food court, his briefcase CAD slung over one shoulder, green runes dim but humming faintly. Celeste Marie Salcedo walked beside him, her grimoire CAD holstered at her thigh, silver sigils glinting with each precise step. Her violet eyes scanned the hallway, alert despite the casual tilt of her head.
Sallie drawled while he spun his calibrator between two fingers, his blue-and-red uniform tattered but proud from their Seventh High rout. His grin was lazy, but his eyes flicked to every shadow, every passing cadet.
"Man, I'm starving. You think the food court's got those adobo sliders again? Need fuel before we wreck Trixie and Mateo."
He stretched, the briefcase CAD shifting slightly, its runes pulsing once.
Celeste's lips pressed into a thin line, her boots clicking on the steel floor. She adjusted her HUD visor, silver sigils cycling faintly.
"Onii-sama, focus. Third High's no pushover. Trixie's lance pierced Sixth High's illusions like they were paper. We're not walking into a buffet—this is the semifinals."
Her voice was cool, but her fingers twitched toward her grimoire, a reflex of readiness.
Sallie chuckled, spinning the calibrator faster.
"Relax, sis. We smoked Andrea's fire. Trixie's spear's got nothing on our sync, remember?"
He tapped the briefcase, its green runes flaring briefly, as if agreeing.
Before Celeste could retort, a blur of blue-and-red dashed from a side corridor. Angela Castillo, Fourth High's cheerleader, bounded toward them, her crimson eyes wide with excitement. Her uniform sparkled under the neon lights, a crumpled SparkVita can clutched in one hand, her cheerleader's energy barely contained.
"Sallie! Celeste! You guys were *insane* out there! That twin arrow? Seventh High didn't know what hit 'em!"
She bounced on her heels, her voice echoing down the hallway, drawing glances from passing cadets.
Sallie's grin widened, his calibrator slowing as he leaned toward her.
"Yo, Angela, you're gonna blow out your vocal cords before the semis. Thanks for the love, though—Fourth High's got the best fans."
He winked, slouching just enough to keep his lazy vibe intact.
Celeste nodded, her expression softening slightly, though her eyes stayed sharp.
"We appreciate it, Angela. Your cheers keep the bleachers loud."
She adjusted her grimoire's holster, silver sigils glinting as she scanned the hallway again.
Angela's grin faltered, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as she stepped closer, her SparkVita can crinkling in her grip.
"Listen, you two—you gotta know what's going on out there. The bettors? Tondo, Quezon, all across Manila—they're throwing *seven-digit* stacks on you for the semis!"
Her red eyes darted between them, wide with both awe and worry.
Sallie's calibrator froze mid-spin. His grin faded, just for a second, his eyes narrowing.
"They're throwing millions? Damn, Manila's betting big. Guess we're the hot ticket now."
He leaned back, but his fingers tightened on the briefcase, green runes pulsing faintly.
Celeste's jaw clenched, her HUD visor flickering as she processed the numbers.
"That's not just hype, Angela. That's pressure. Who's spreading this?"
Her voice was steady, but her hand hovered over her grimoire, as if sensing a trap in the air.
Angela's hands waved frantically, her SparkVita can nearly slipping.
"Word's everywhere—betting dens in Tondo, penthouses in Quezon! They're saying Mendez made a deal with you. Win the Games, and Sallie gets to fight Japan's Strategic-Class guy, Tatsuya Shiba, for some invasion plan!"
She paused, catching her breath, her eyes flicking to Sallie.
"But they're also saying if you throw the match, they'll call it match-fixing. And worse—they'll spread lies, say you're in bed with ManaTech or something. You can't let 'em down!"
Sallie's grin returned, but it was sharper now, edged with something colder. He spun his calibrator once, slow and deliberate.
"Match-fixing? Lies? Let 'em talk. I don't throw fights, Angela. Never have. Those bettors want a show? They'll get one. Trixie's spear's going down."
His briefcase CAD hummed, green runes flaring as if responding to his resolve.
Celeste's eyes narrowed, her voice cutting like a tether spell.
"This is bigger than bets, Onii-sama. If Mendez's decree is out there, the USNA Stars and Ten Master Clans are listening. We can't just win—we have to be flawless."
She stepped closer to Angela, her silver sigils cycling faster.
"Who's talking about ManaTech? That's not just gossip—it's dangerous."
Angela swallowed, her cheerleader's energy dimming under Celeste's gaze.
"I… heard it in the bleachers. Some Tondo guys said Sallie's got dirt on the Fernandez clan, like he threatened Andrea. ManaTech deals, off-books stuff. They think you're gonna leak it if you win."
She clutched her can tighter, her voice dropping.
"I told 'em to shut up, but… it's spreading. You guys gotta be careful. Manila's watching every move."
Sallie let out a low whistle, his calibrator spinning again, but slower now.
"Seven-digit bets, Shiba rumors, and now ManaTech conspiracies? Hell, we're famous."
He leaned toward Celeste, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"This is getting messy, sis. If the bettors think I'm some whistleblower, we're not just fighting Trixie—we're dodging knives in the dark."
Celeste's expression hardened, her grimoire CAD pulsing once, silver runes glowing like a warning.
"Then we don't flinch. We beat Third High, we keep our heads down, and we let the rumors burn out. But if ManaTech's involved…"
She trailed off, her eyes flicking to a passing IFRP guard, his gauntlet CAD glowing faintly in the hallway's dim light.
Celeste's hand rested on her grimoire, her voice a low murmur.
"Let them watch. We'll give them a show they can't twist. Trixie's spear, Mateo's pulses—none of it matters if we stay synced."
She glanced at him, her expression softening just enough.
"But no more taunts, Onii-sama. Save the chaos for the pit."
Sallie chuckled, slinging his briefcase CAD back over his shoulder.
"No promises, sis. Chaos is my brand."
He winked, but his steps were steady, purposeful, as they headed toward the food court, the weight of Manila's bets and Mendez's decree trailing them like a shadow.
Sallie curious but low "But why, though? How'd these bettors even hear about Mendez's deal? Someone overhear us or what?"
His voice thinned to a whisper, eyes scanning the hallway for IFRP guards—those gauntlet CADs always glowing too damn close.
Celeste's jaw tightened, her HUD visor blinking faintly as a past mistake sparked back into view.
"Andrea. Back in Malacañang—SEA Games prep. You were mouthing off about Shiba during the strategy brief. She was eavesdropping behind the server rack."
Her fingers twitched toward her grimoire. The silver sigils pulsed once—tight, irritated.
"She's the one stirring up Tondo, Quezon… Dropping Shiba's name like it's bait. Playing the press. Playing you."
Sallie's grin returned—but colder now, cocky but tight. The calibrator resumed its slow spin.
"Doesn't matter. We bricked her out of playoffs. Sent her flying through two meters of concrete. Girl talks big—until the shotgun sings."
The briefcase CAD hummed, runes flaring with a wicked pulse, almost like it was laughing with him.
Celeste's eyes narrowed. As they approached the glowing arch of the food court entrance, the smell of adobo sliders and sizzling sisig met them like a comfort they hadn't earned.
"It's not just Andrea. Angela might've been right next to that girl in the stands—the one calling herself 'Major Sirius.' Blonde twin-tails, Brionac CAD, sits with Cassandra and Amon. U.S. eyes."
She jerked her chin toward a passing cadet in a Seventh High scarf. Her sigils cycled faster—pattern-locking thoughts.
Sallie's calibrator froze mid-spin. Sallie frowning, quiet
"Wait… Major Sirius? Who the hell's that?"
Angela piped up behind them, trailing three steps back, her SparkVita can practically vibrating in her hand.
"You seriously don't know?! Major Sirius is Angelina Kudou Shields! U.S.N.A. Stars! Brionac on her wrist, sky-blue eyes, total Terminator vibe! She's been sitting with Cassandra Kwon and Amon every match!"
An IFRP staffer glared. Angela bounced anyway, her red eyes bright with adrenaline and panic.
Sallie's eyes widened. "Angelina Kudou Shields…? And she's been chatting with Angela?"
He looked at Celeste. The grin was gone. The wariness was back.
Celeste's tone went ice-cold. "If she's been listening in… the U.S. Stars know about the Shiba Decree. And if they know? The Ten Master Clans aren't far behind."
She turned to Angela, voice tight and controlled. "What did you say to Shields? Exactly."
Angela's grin faltered. Her SparkVita can crackled under the squeeze of her fingers.
"I just… hyped you guys! Said Sallie's CAD morphs are legendary, and yeah—I might've mentioned the buzz in Tondo. But no Shiba stuff, I swear!"
Her red eyes searched for forgiveness—genuine and anxious.
Sallie let out a dry chuckle, but there was no warmth in it.
"You're our heartbeat, Angela. But if Major Sirius is poking around? This just got messier than I thought."
He turned back to Celeste, voice dropping.
"Think she's sniffing around the ManaTech stuff too? Andrea's dirty deals?"
Celeste didn't blink. Her visor flickered again, a dozen calculations ticking in her periphery.
"Maybe. If she caught that you threatened to leak Fernandez's deals with ManaTech, she's already digging. And the Stars? They don't dig gently. Neither do the Clans."
She locked eyes with Sallie.
Sallie's grin faded, his gaze dropping to the floor, boots scuffing the steel as a knot tightened in his gut.
"This is getting heavy, sis. Seven-digit bets, Shiba rumors, Stars sniffing around? Tensions are gonna blow up."
His voice had lost its edge—quiet now, unguarded. For once, the swagger slipped, leaving behind something raw and real.
Celeste paused mid-step, violet eyes narrowing as they flicked to him, assessing. Calculating.
Angela, usually a beacon of pep, slowed beside them, catching the shift in Sallie's energy.
"You okay, Sallie? You're gonna crush Trixie and Mateo… right?"
She clutched her SparkVita can tighter, its crinkle loud against the hallway's low hum. Her voice trembled, not with fear, but concern.
Sallie forced a half-smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. They stayed low, tracing neon reflections in the metal floor like he could lose himself in them.
Sallie, quiet flat "Yeah. I'm good. Just… need a sec. You two go grab those sliders. I'll catch up before we hit the pit."
He waved them off without looking, his briefcase CAD shifting as if bracing itself, green runes pulsing like a slow heartbeat.
Celeste lingered for a beat longer, reading him.
"Don't be late, Onii-sama. Trixie's lance won't wait."
She turned with Angela, disappearing into the scent of adobo and sizzle of sisig. The buzz of the food court drowned behind them.
Sallie stood alone. The hum of neon overhead grew louder, distorted, and the distant roar of the arena sounded like a warning. He tightened his grip on the CAD strap. A flicker on the edge of his senses. Watching eyes.
"Alright, Stars. I know you're there. Stop creeping and show yourselves."
The words cut clean through the quiet. A shuffle.
Then three silhouettes stepped into the light.
Angelina Kudou Shields emerged first—Major Sirius. Blonde twin-tails catching the glow, sky-blue eyes sharp as frost. The Brionac bracelet on her wrist gave off a faint, steady hum, like it was breathing.
Cassandra Kwon stalked beside her, sniper-calm, gauntlet CAD hidden beneath a sleek combat jacket. Her stare could punch through walls.
Amon Reyes brought up the rear, all loose swagger and deadly poise, dreadlocks swaying as he rested one hand near the lance at his hip.
Sallie, smirking faintly "Figured it was you, Shields. Angelina Kudou Shields, right? Former First High prodigy. USNA Stars poster girl."
He leaned back against the wall, casual on the surface, every nerve under tension.
Angelina, calm cool, with a faint drawl "You've done your homework, Salcedo. I'm flattered."
Sallie, probing light but precise "Heard you ran with legends back in Japan. Tatsuya Shiba included. What was it like? Stars must've kept you close to the heat."
His grin was all teeth, but his eyes didn't blink. They locked with hers, waiting for any sign of fracture.
Angelina's lips barely moved, but her gaze sharpened, a flicker of memory—pain or pride—passing through like a ghost.
Angelina, measured flat, edged "Shiba's a name you shouldn't toss around so casually, Salcedo. You know why."
She stepped forward. The Brionac's glow deepened, casting faint sigils against the wall like shadows of intent.
"He was… precise. Relentless. A different breed. But that was years ago. Why ask now?"
Cassandra cut in before he could answer, her voice flat but her intent razor-sharp.
"You fishing for something, kid? Or just stirring the pot before your semifinal?"
Amon leaned in slightly, not smiling, but amused in a way that made it worse.
"We heard the buzz. Mendez wants you up against Shiba if you win. That true?"
His eyes dropped to Sallie's briefcase like it was a bomb.
Sallie's smirk held "Rumors travel fast. Maybe Mendez said something, maybe not. All I know is my next fight's with Trixie and Mateo. You Stars nervous I'm stealing your thunder?"
He spun the calibrator in his hand, letting it sing—a sharp whistle like a blade through air.
Angelina's mouth twitched, almost a smirk, but her eyes didn't thaw.
"You're bold. But bold doesn't win wars. Shiba's a Strategic-Class magician. Entire cities bow to him. If you're mixed up in ManaTech leaks, like Andrea's clan suggests, you're not just in over your head—you're playing with matches in a powder room."
Sallie's smirk thinning.
"Andrea's still pouting over that? I don't deal in smuggling, Shields. If her clan's dirty, that's their shame. Not mine."
Cassandra stepped in, her eyes locked onto him like a crosshair.
"You threatened to leak the deal. Tondo's markets are screaming. That puts a bullseye on you—from us and from every Clan elder eyeing the Games."
Amon's voice dropped, low and wry.
"Calling out Fernandez? Daring Mendez's plan? That's not guts, kid—it's a countdown. You better have more than a flashy CAD."
Sallie met their gaze, all three of them, the storm tightening behind his grin.
"Maybe it is a countdown. But I don't run. I'm not scared of Clans or rumors. Just Trixie's spear and Mateo's pulses. They're real. The rest of this? Noise."
He stepped forward
"But since we're being honest—why don't you tell me? What's Shiba to the Stars now? You three know more than you're saying."
Angelina's eyes flicked—barely—but something passed between her and the others. A silent exchange, quick and unreadable.
Angelina, steady cold as steel "Careful, Salcedo. The closer you get to Shiba, the shorter your future gets."
Sallie's eyes narrowed, his grin twisting into something sharp—defiant, almost reckless. He stepped forward, boots scuffing against steel, and the briefcase CAD on his shoulder flared—a harsh pulse of green that painted runes across the hallway like graffiti made of mana.
"The shorter my future gets? Really, Lina?"
"Shiba nailed your ass back in the day, didn't he? Even with that shiny Trident CAD Colonel Balance handed you. Don't think I'm too dumb to skip my history lessons."
He leaned against the wall, one shoulder cocked, calibrator spinning lazily between his fingers like he had time to waste.
"Did my homework before lights-out. Shiba's a beast, sure—but don't worry. Once the SEA Games wrap, he'll meet his match."
Angelina froze mid-step. Her twin-tails stiffened like drawn blades, and when she turned, her sky-blue eyes weren't cold—they were arctic.
Angelina, icy controlled fury "You're digging up classified debriefs, Salcedo? Bold move for a kid still writing midterms."
She stepped forward. The floor under her boots almost seemed to hush.
"Shiba did outplay me. Trident or not, it wasn't even close. But I survived."
"You? Betting on yourself against him? That's not bravery—it's suicide with extra flair."
Cassandra's eyes locked in like a scope, sharp blunt "Talk's cheap. You've never seen Elemental Sight in real-time. You think that briefcase full of party tricks can match a walking missile silo?"
Her fingers twitched, instinctive, like a sniper feathering the trigger. Her voice cut clean.
"Keep dreaming. Or better—wake up."
He stepped off the wall. The hallway seemed to shift with him.
Sallie, continued resolute
"I was born ready. Shiba's a ghost, yeah. But ghosts still bleed when you hit 'em right. And I'm not just some punk outta Batangas. Mendez chose me because he knows—I don't flinch."
Sallie took a slow breath, and let a smirk slide back onto his face—one sharpened not by cockiness, but conviction.
"Besides… I don't think I'd pull myself outta the deal just 'cause you think I'm weak."
He looked straight at Angelina, letting the pause sit like a held breath.
Then his gaze slid over to Cassandra, holding there like a drawn scope.
"I know about Elemental Sight, too. I've seen what it can do. Read what Shiba did to Major Saegusa's entire strike team in '23. But sight doesn't mean untouchable."
"Knowing how you see the world? That's the first step to blinding you."
Cassandra's brows twitched—just slightly. Not doubt. Not fear. But a flicker of recalculation.
Then Sallie turned toward Amon, meeting him squarely. His voice dropped, but it was firm, direct, edged with fire.
"And His Majesty? He wasn't afraid of the bloodlines."
"Not the Yotsuba. Not the Kudou. Not even the Ichijou."
He stepped forward, continued rising "You talk like I'm the problem. But you're the ones who should be scared."
He stopped in the center of the hall, eyes flashing, fierce resolute
"Scared of what Mendez built. Scared of the fact that we don't bow to dynasties anymore."
"Because this time? It's not about their bloodlines. It's about ours."
Sallie, cool and pointed like a teacher calling on the class
"So tell me, Lina… what did Sylvia Mercury First do back then?"
A pause. No smug grin. Just the question, hanging like a rune etched in fire.
"She wasn't born into any clan. No special bloodline. No ancient crest to inherit. Just grit, vision—and tech the elites swore would never work."
He tapped his briefcase CAD once, its green runes pulsing in response, like it recognized the name.
Sallie, rising cutting through them "She redefined the battlefield. Dismantled four clan ops in the Pacific. And by the time anyone took her seriously? She'd already rewritten the doctrine."
Angelina didn't speak. Her eyes flickered—recognition, then caution.
Cassandra's stare sharpened, and Amon's grin vanished.
Sallie stepped forward again, his voice calm, almost quiet—but it carried weight like a spell about to trigger.
"You all think you've seen this play before. You haven't. Because Mendez isn't just betting on me to break Shiba."
"He's betting on a new kind of war."
Sallie let out a low chuckle, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Sallie, drawling mock-casual "Well... there I go mambling on again."
He gave a slow shrug.
"Was about to wrap this all up before we had our little hallway heart-to-heart with you U.S.N.A. folks."
"So here's a word of advice…"
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to something dark and pointed.
"Best to keep the family household buried, okay? Dig too deep, and even the bones bite back."
Angelina's expression didn't flinch, but her eyes sharpened—calculating, colder than Brionac's glow.
"You think this is just about tactics and tournaments, Salcedo…"
She stepped forward,
"But I've got a feeling the Ten Master Clans are coming. Soon."
She let the words hang like frost in the air, her voice steady—this wasn't speculation. It was insight.
Angelina measured, almost respectful
"You're not wrong about Mendez betting on a new kind of war. But wars like this don't stay small. And if you really are the key…"
She glanced briefly at his briefcase, then locked eyes again.
"The Clans won't let you walk off the board. Not after what happened to the girl who got executed. Not with Shiba still breathing."
Angelina's expression didn't flicker, but the edge in her tone was unmistakable.
"Emperor Mendez is in danger. Sooner than he thinks."
She stepped closer, her Brionac glowing just enough to reflect in her icy blue eyes.
"His daughter—Gabriella Aurelia Mendez? She's tangled in this too."
The weight of her words settled like fog between them. Her voice lowered.
"The Clans want to stop his invasion of Japan without bloodshed. No IFRP boots on Japanese soil. No Salcedo in the ring with Shiba."
His gaze narrowed, jaw clenching. The lazy grin was gone.
"The Clans? Stopping Mendez? And Gabriella's caught up in that?"
He looked straight at Angelina now. The grin didn't return. Only the edge remained.
"You're saying they're gunning for the Emperor himself?"
Cassandra's reply came before the last word left his lips. She didn't blink.
Her eyes locked on him, gauntlet CAD flaring faintly beneath her jacket sleeve.
"Not just gunning. Strategizing."
She ticked the names off like classified targets in a war room.
"The entire members of Ten Master Clans. They're not here for the Games. They're here to derail Mendez's war before it starts."
Her shoulders stiffened, her fingers twitching as if prepping a shot.
"Gabriella's their leverage. His heir. His blind spot."
The disdain in her voice thinned to warning.
"If they move on her, the whole IFRP shakes."
Amon shifted, stepping out from the shadows. The neon light caught the edges of his golden runes as they pulsed across his lance CAD.
His expression had dropped its usual grin. Only tension remained in the set of his jaw.
"And here's the kicker—there's a rat."
He didn't blink.
"Someone in Mendez's inner circle is feeding the Clans intel. Could be a councilor. Could be a guard. Could be someone in uniform like you."
His voice dropped a notch, gaze never leaving Sallie's.
"They won't tell you who. You'll have to find out the hard way."
Sallie's breath slowed.
"A rat. In Mendez's camp."
His voice didn't rise. But the fury in it cracked like a blade unsheathed.
He took a step forward, boots clicking on the steel.
"And you're just dropping this on me now?"
The Stars didn't flinch. Cassandra's stare remained locked. Amon's hand rested loosely near his lance.
Sallie's voice steadied. A defiant calm settling back over his shoulders.
Sallie, continued measured, confrontational "What's your game, Lina? Trying to throw me off before the semis?"
Angelina didn't step back. She wasn't bluffing.
Angelina firm, unwavering "No game. Just facts."
"The Clans are moving. You're in the crosshairs because of Mendez's decree. You win the Games, you face Shiba. That makes you a threat."
She hesitated, just a flicker.
Her tone softened slightly, not in kindness, but in clarity.
"But if the Clans get to her first—or if your rat makes a move…"
She scanned the hallway behind him.
"This place could go from tournament to battlefield in seconds."
Cassandra's voice cut in again, flat and unforgiving.
"You're not listening. You're not just fighting Third High. You're fighting the clock."
She took a half-step forward.
"The Clans. The rat. The Sabotage. All of it's converging."
She let that sink in.
"You win, you become Mendez's spear. You lose—you become his scapegoat."
Amon didn't bother with threats anymore. Just the truth.
"Truth's coming, Salcedo. Sooner or later, you find the rat…"
He shrugged. "Or they find you."
"Better hope you're as fast with that briefcase as you are with your mouth."
Sallie's grin hung on—but now it looked less like confidence and more like armor about to crack. His eyes, shadowed, locked onto Angelina.
"Why are you even telling me all this, huh?"
He stepped forward, boots striking steel with each word, voice edged with something sharper than sarcasm.
"Clans, rats, Gabriella Mendez? You Stars just like stirring the pot before I smash Trixie's spear?"
His gaze bounced between Angelina's unreadable stare and the edges of Amon's fading grin, like he was trying to find the game beneath their warnings.
Angelina didn't flinch. The shadows cast by her twin-tails sharpened on the wall behind her as she stepped forward.
Angelina, measured calm but intense "We're telling you because you're a pawn in a bigger game, Salcedo."
She stopped just short of his reach, voice dropping into a whisper sharp enough to frost over steel.
"The Ten Master Clans aren't just watching. They're furious."
She let the silence hang a second.
"Katsuto Juumonji—head of the Juumonji clan. After that execution back in Japan? Reina Saegusa, killed on international stream?"
"That lit a fuse. And now that fuse is burning under Mendez's throne."
Her eyes narrowed "Juumonji doesn't want your Games. He wants your Emperor's head. And you? You're the spark they need to snuff out before the fire spreads."
Sallie's jaw tensed, low testing the line between bravado and fear
"Katsuto Juumonji, huh? Another heavy hitter."
He glanced down briefly—just once—then back at her, grin twitching but never fully re-forming.
"So what—you expect me to be scared of him and Shiba now?"
Cassandra stepped forward slightly, the movement subtle but surgical.
Cassandra, blunt cold "You should be."
Her voice was flat. Icy. Like a bullet casing dropped on concrete.
"Shiba's a scalpel. Surgical. He ends you before you see him. Juumonji? He's a hammer. When he hits, the battlefield stays hit."
She took another half-step in, her gaze locking tight.
"Phalanx can anchor mana across a city block. If he moves against Mendez, you're not a bystander. You're in his direct line of fire."
Amon's smile was long gone. His arms folded, weight shifting back.
Amon, grim quiet truth "She's not exaggerating."
His voice had dropped the performer's lilt. It was flat. Final.
"That execution—Reina's—was a mistake. Public. Brutal. Too visible. Now the Clans are unified."
He glanced toward Sallie, then down the hall as if checking their perimeter, before his gaze cut back like a blade.
"Juumonji's got entire ten master clans dropping in—all came to Manila from Singapore. They're not sightseeing."
He leaned forward, dreadlocks swaying, every line in his face hardened.
Amon, continued warning" If they tie you to the invasion? You're not just facing Third High anymore."
His voice dropped to a low, heavy rumble.
"You're about to go three rounds with Japan's best. And there's no referee in that ring."
He stood straighter, more rigid than before, as if the weight of Amon's words had suddenly pressed down on his spine.
Sallie, low suspicious "Japan's best, huh? You're piling it on thick, Reyes."
His voice stayed steady, but his eyes flicked—nervously—between Amon's golden runes and Angelina's unreadable stare.
"If Juumonji's coming... what's his play? What happens if I keep winning?"
Amon stepped forward, slow and deliberate.
Amon, serious measured, relentless "You want the truth, Salcedo? Fine."
He lifted his hand and began counting, each finger like a weight dropping onto a scale.
Amon, continued point by point
"One: Juumonji's rallying the Clans to stop the invasion before it starts. They're not just sniffing war machine—they're hunting proof. You're Mendez's spear, so they'll aim to break you."
Amon didn't blink. His second finger rose like a blade.
"Two: There's a rat in Mendez's circle. Feeding the Clans names. Plans. Even Gabriella's movements. Could be in this arena right now."
He let that hang, then added:
"If they tie you to ManaTech—like you threatened Andrea—you're not just a target anymore. You're a scapegoat."
Sallie, sharp on edge "A scapegoat? For what?"
Amon's third finger lifted. His voice dropped.
"Three: Gabriella's trying to stop the war—quietly. But she's walking a razor's edge. The Clans see her as the weak link. Juumonji might kidnap her. Might kill her."
His tone didn't change. That made it worse.
"If that happens, the IFRP turns inward. The world blames you for bringing the fire."
Sallie's breath hitched. His eyes widened, and for the first time, fear crept behind them.
"Juumonji's Phalanx isn't just a spell—it's a mindset. He protects his own. Reina's execution wasn't political to him. It was personal."
She paused, her voice sharpened to a whisper.
"He'll do whatever it takes to stop Mendez. Even if that means taking Gabriella off the board."
Amon's fourth finger rose, his steady grim allegiance.
"Four: We're not just here to spectate. The Stars are tracking the Clans. The rat. ManaTech. If your name gets tied to the wrong file or you face Shiba..."
He shook his head once.
"You're not just Mendez's pawn anymore. You're our problem too."
Sallie's breath quickened, defiant but rattled
"A problem? So what—you planning to take me out if I win?"
Cassandra's voice cut through, her tone sharp enough to freeze the air.
Cassandra, blunt impatient "Don't flatter yourself."
"We're not here to fight you. Not yet. But you keep poking ManaTech, keep pushing for Shiba? You'll leave us no choice."
Amon's final finger rose. The fifth. His voice dropped to a whisper—so quiet it made the neon lights feel louder.
"Five: The SEA Games are a smokescreen. Mendez is using them to test you. To show Japan that you're his weapon."
He looked him in the eye.
"But if you lose—or if the Clans expose you first—the invasion dies on the spot. And you?"
His voice turned to iron.
"You're the last name on the board. And Juumonji doesn't miss."
Sallie stood frozen. His gaze drifted, just slightly, toward the food court. Celeste's silver sigils flashed gently as she moved through the crowd.
Angela's voice rose faintly in the distance, carefree.
Sallie, serious soft, shaken "You're saying it's all true?"
His voice barely carried, but it was stripped bare—no mask, no deflection.
"Juumonji. The rat. Gabriella. The Clans. It's all really coming for me?"
Angelina stepped back. Her Brionac dimmed slightly, the tension in her shoulders not lessened, only shifted.
"It's true. Every word."
Her sky-blue eyes didn't blink.
"You're not just fighting for a trophy, Salcedo. You're fighting for your life."
She turned, voice lingering like a pressure spike.
"Win the tournament quickly. Keep your chaos in the pit. And maybe you'll outrun Juumonji's hammer."
She glanced over her shoulder one last time.
"But don't bet on it."
Her sniper gaze pinned him like a trigger half-pulled.
Cassandra, continued warning
"Juumonji's Clans are already moving. And that rat? They're not sitting on their hands. You drag this out, and you're just giving them time to strike."
Sallie turned, slow. The usual fire in his grin was gone—replaced by something harder, quieter. Steeled.
Sallie, tense gritted, but grounded
"Finish fast? You think I'm playing for fun out there?"
He held her gaze now, steady and level.
"Trixie's spear ain't a toy, and Mateo's CAD's got bite. I don't slow down, but I don't half-step either."
His fingers flexed around the briefcase strap. The green runes responded, glowing like embers pulled toward ignition.
Angelina stepped forward.
"Time's on your side, for now. The Duels are your shield—while you're in the pit, the Clans won't touch you."
Her voice dropped, each word deliberate, landing like a slow fuse burning toward something violent.
"But when the Games end... it's your call."
She didn't blink.
"You can try to stop this—find the rat, protect Gabriella, derail the invasion. Or you can let the Clans take Mendez's head. If they do, the IFRP won't survive. Shiba might not even need to lift a finger."
Sallie's eyes widened.
"Shiba? Stop the whole invasion? You're saying I might not even get to face him?"
His voice cracked—not from fear, but disbelief.
Cassandra's lips curled, not into a smile—into a line of cold clarity.
Cassandra, sharp precise
"Exactly. Juumonji's hammer could break Mendez before you're even on the field. And if Gabriella falls? The blame rolls downhill. Right onto you."
Her stare cut through the neon light like a shot waiting to fire.
"Shiba's Elemental Sight sees through illusions, through strategy, through lies. If he gets involved, your chaos won't touch him—not if this war's already over before it begins."
Amon leaned in, steady grim respect
"You're the wild card, Salcedo."
He nodded slowly, dreadlocks swaying, his tone devoid of threat—just fact.
"But even wild cards burn when the game flips."
He tilted his head toward the briefcase.
"That CAD's flashy, no doubt. But if the Clans expose the rat first? Or if Gabriella drops? Mendez's war folds. And you'll be left holding nothing but a name and a body count."
The hallway stretched silent around them, the air heavy with magic and consequence. For a long moment, Sallie didn't move.
His eyes flicked again to Celeste—still calm, still smiling faintly as Angela spoke in excited bursts.
She didn't know. Not yet. But she would.