The Blue Beetle

He had the feeling that no matter where he went, he was bound to happen upon the same types of events.

…It had to be a delusion of his. But during Shalk's existence, the same misfortune repeating two or three times seemed like enough consistency to say it had taken up a sizable chunk of his life.

In any case, it happened again here in Aureatia.

Shalk, sitting in the corner of a tavern known as the Blue Beetle and purchasing a glass of undrinkable booze to pay for the seat he took up, was listening to the performance of a cheerful wind instrument and a female bard.

Perhaps because he himself was a skeleton, he didn't enjoy gloomy music. He could've said that this establishment he picked out on the incomprehensible Aureatia streets was at that moment a lucky find.

"Woooow, pretty! Which one should I choose?!"

The first omen that he had made a mistake was the unrestrained and cheerful voice of a young girl.

The young girl looked to be around nineteen years old, her first impression animated and lively. She restlessly waved her long chestnut-colored braid behind her, gazing at the colors of the bottles of alcohol lined up on the bar's shelves.

"Mister, this one! Gimme this one! The green stuff!" "..."

The taciturn proprietor, a mismatch to the music in the tavern, silently began preparing a glass.

The young girl lightly trotted through the crowded tavern interior and, seeing that the only open seat was the one across from Shalk, plopped down in the chair without a moment's hesitation.

"Hey, now."

Given the condition the proprietor—the person who should've originally kept things in check—was in, Shalk took it on himself to rebuke her.

"…Deep casket whiskey? …At your age? If you didn't know, then go get him to swap it out for something else. One sip's going to send you under the table."

"Hmm? I'll be all right! Oh, mind if I sit here?"

"Ask that before you sit down. If I had a problem with it, I would've told you."

Shalk thought the girl was like a baby kitten who still knew no fear. Her long braid, continuing to sway restlessly in sync with her movements, even after sitting down, in fact, resembled a tail.

"Tee-hee, thanks. I'm Tu the Magic. Who're you?" "Sound Slicer. Shalk the Sound Slicer."

Tu the Magic.

He recalled the names of the participants that his sponsor, Hyakka the Heat Haze, had told him. It was from earlier that morning, and Shalk hadn't seriously committed them to memory.

However, he felt like one of the participants went by this sort of bizarre second name.

"…You're in a bar, but you don't drink any alcohol? Your ice is already melting."

"Lucky for me, this body of mine can walk around drunkenly even without a drop, see."

A finger peeked out from underneath Shalk's dark-green rags. A true minian skeleton, moving in opposition to biological reason, bleached pure white like a precious jewel.

It was also the reason that, within the crowded tavern, the seat in front of his was the only one open.

Shalk the Sound Slicer was a construct. Save for exceptions like the Free City of Okafu, no matter what town he had traveled to…even one like Aureatia with its racial variety, skeletons were avoided.

"Never know if you'll sober up, after all. If you're fine with this booze, take it off my hands for me."

"You sure? Whoo-hoo, lucky me!"

Tu took the glass in both hands and loudly chugged Shalk's drink. "Oooh… That's bitter! Still, it's tasty!"

"You seriously think so?"

"Yup! Everyone likes alcohol, right? Krafnir said so!" "…"

It may have made the girl happy, but he thought that perhaps he shouldn't have carelessly encouraged her.

Although… Despite clearly appearing unused to alcohol, the fact that she

could empty her glass like she was drinking down water maybe meant she must've been the owner of an iron stomach.

…Is this really one of my enemies in the Sixways Exhibition? They know my identity and are still acting like this?

Watching her shake her body along with the bard's music, she seemed anything but.

There was a small month left until the start of the games. It may have been a good idea to challenge her here and take stock of his opponent's power. Shalk paid attention to the location of his spear, leaning up against the wall.

"Oh, right, Shalk! There's something I wanna ask you!"

Right as the drink she ordered was brought to the table, an angry quarreling shout came flying from beyond Tu's seat.

"Huh?! You can shut your damn mouth! What does that money I borrowed have anything to do with this conversation?! A pittance like that, and you're getting bent outta shape, huh?! Quit whining about the little stuff!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, trying to cheat me, huh?! Go ahead and try it, asshole! Want me to spill those guts out on the table and use that to pay for your damn booze, huh?!"

Shalk heaved a weary sigh.

No matter where he went, he always got caught up in the same type of events.

"Shalk?"

"Yeah?"

While replying vaguely to Tu's inquiry, he stayed cognizant of the brewing trouble. He wanted to avoid getting wrapped up in it should the need arise. Tu, on the other hand, didn't appear to be paying any attention at all.

Shalk could see that one of the men arguing had taken out a small firearm. The man seriously showed up to drink with a loaded gun? He raised the barrel. He thrust it into the other man's neck.

With Shalk's speed, he could've restrained them. Not only could he have rushed over to the seat across the tavern and deflected the bullet, he could have directly stopped the finger before it could even pull the trigger—however, he thought it was best to leave the blackguards free to settle their own problem however they wanted.

Just like Taren the Punished and Milieu the Hemp Drop. "You can go straight to hell first!"

The clatter of a chair being kicked over. Gunshots. Patrons' shrieks. A stray

bullet flew toward Shalk's seat.

Shalk remained silent and looked at the seat in front of him…at the chair his drinking companion instantly vanished from.

He also saw the moment that bullet flying toward him was stopped, without even reaching for his spear.

Tu caught it with her fist. From what Shalk could see, the bullet didn't leave behind a single scratch on the girl's skin.

"Stop!"

Immediately dashing toward them, Tu pinned down both men simultaneously. The brawny men, clearly well acquainted with the world of violence, were each dragged down to the floor by one of the girl's slender arms.

"Everyone here's enjoying the music! This isn't the time for your fight!

Don't cause trouble!"

"Hng, augh!"

Tu viewed the two as simple drunks and was trying to show them a little bit of leniency. She took her hands off their throats and declared:

"If you're gonna keep it up, I'll have to teach you a lesson with a good kick!" "…Tu. Those guys—"

It was when Shalk grabbed his spear and went to stand that the second strange event occurred.

There was the cracking sound of wood being forcibly split apart. Something that came flying from one of the drunks' hands broke one of the lamps behind him. The sound of it breaking stole Tu's attention.

The two both escaped at the same time. One went toward the entrance. The other went to where the projectile had landed—toward the back door.

The back door lay in the deepest part of the tavern, diagonally across from Shalk's seat. Nevertheless, with excessive agility…and mixed with a yawn, Shalk was able to go around and cut him off.

"…!"

"You married to that knife or what?"

Leaning against the wall in the darkness of the back door, he pulled out the item he had stolen from the man before he could reach the back door…the blade of a knife. It was no normal knife. It was an assassin's weapon, equipped with a gunpowder mechanism that fired just the knife's blade out from the hilt.

"Sorry for the rude question, but…you see…I can't think of any other reason why you'd choose this thing here over being pinned down by such a young cutie like her."

"Give it back."

He could guess what happened. This dangerous weapon was thrust at Tu from a blind spot her body had been hiding. The blade didn't penetrate her body, sliding off her skin and getting deflected. This man planned on recovering the evidence and making his escape.

A normal person's body would've been burst open and torn apart, organs and all. Just how had she defended herself?

"…This isn't an easy weapon to get your hands on. Who sent you?" "Shalk!"

From behind, Tu's voice called out to him disapprovingly.

From over his shoulder, he looked at the girl's stomach. The large torn fabric lined up with the attack she had just been hit with.

"…I'm fine. Let him go."

"I'll make it clear because you don't seem to get it, but this guy tried to kill you."

"Really? It's no big deal. Still, you can't fight with him here, though.

Everyone's come here to enjoy the music." "…Listen."

Shalk was also taking note of the drunk fleeing the tavern while he and Tu conversed.

Exiting the establishment, they split into two in the alleyway. After that, they each divided into three and four more roads, respectively. With Shalk's speed, he could try out all the potential routes and still be plenty fast enough to catch up to the fleeing drunk. He should have enough time to apprehend them and interrogate them about who was pulling their strings.

If he left right now.

Shalk was first concerned with Tu.

"Are you really all right? Treating your wounds is the first priority. Unlike me, you're still alive and all."

"I'm fine, really! Hey, c'mon, don't pull me!"

The feeling of Tu's arm under his bony fingertips—though obviously just the skeleton's quasi-sense of touch—was the same as any normal young girl. There was a softness to her skin, and when he gripped a bit harder, there was a fleshy elasticity.

"...What's going on with your body?"

Ultimately, Shalk's apprehensions had been entirely off the mark.

The skin that had supposedly been hit with two different types of fatal

weaponry didn't show the slightest hint of internal bleeding. Tu the Magic wasn't even feeling any pain.

It couldn't have been simply hardness, like dragon scale, that defended her. It seemed like the only possible explanation was that this soft, fair skin possessed a tenacity that neither gun nor blade would pierce through. But then, where did the upper limit of this defense of hers lie?

"Ah-ha-ha! I don't really understand the difficult stuff myself, either! But as for me, this body I was born with… Well, you can see for yourself; it's fine. I'm okay."

"Fine or not, you still shouldn't carelessly risk your life like that." "…Okay. Thanks. Shalk, you're a nice old dude!"

"Old dude?"

Shalk was baffled at himself for his unexpected shock. He didn't have any memory of who he was exactly.

Of course, that would have been one of the many possibilities left behind, but…

"…I look like an older guy to you?"

"Uh-oh. Not happy to hear that? I like older dudes myself, though."

"Nah, it's fine. Not a big issue. Men who fuss over their age are idiots. More importantly than any of that, though, there's a serious topic to get to."

Hiding the fact and drawing out information from her would have been advantageous for Shalk.

Nevertheless, the long-dead man wasn't foolish enough to throw away his dignity over a small bit of self-protection.

"Tu the Magic. You're a participant in the Sixways Exhibition, aren't you?" "Yup!"

"That'll speed things up, but maybe don't go around answering so honestly like that. I'm the same. Shalk the Sound Slicer. You realize those two just now weren't any old drunks, too, right?"

"What—they weren't?!"

Shalk held his empty cranium in his hands. This girl was unbelievable.

It had been the same story when she first pinned down the drunks, too. Her frame of mind was leagues removed from a warrior's. Did she really expect to win and advance through the tournament completely off her physical ability and nothing more?

"…When those guys were arguing, a stray bullet almost flew right at this seat. They were aiming for me. There's someone trying to see how we'd handle

it."

"Like how you went around to cut the guy off?"

"Nah. No doubt they were looking at you. Bullets and blades. Had to be some

intent behind both of them using separate methods of attack—trying to see the limits of your defenses, for example, maybe."

This place wasn't the same type of haunt for scoundrels like Shalk had come across during his roaming.

No matter where he went, he always happened upon the same kinds of events. However, if the same sort of things were happening here in Aureatia, that was beyond the scope of sheer bad luck. An unquestionably abnormal event.

"…Probably one of the other participants staged the whole affair. Sorry." "That so. But why're you apologizing, Shalk? You weren't behind it, right?" "I also watched you stop that bullet. I got a bit curious to see how another

hero candidate like me'd deal with it. If you had actually died right in front of me, I probably would've felt a bit guilty about it."

Most likely, he wouldn't have. Shalk the Sound Slicer had watched countless deaths, but he had never once truly felt any guilt about it. Because he didn't believe in any firm sense of justice, including the judgment of whether a person lives or dies.

"I see. You're real smart, Shalk. I never thought about that."

Tu flashed a toothy grin, looking unbothered about it all. He felt just a little bit envious of her, moving without any hesitation to save someone else. Because he knew that having convictions meant that one knew oneself.

Still, there's already someone out there trying to investigate our fighting strength. We only learned who was participating just this very morning.

She wasn't paying it any mind, but if he assumed someone was, then the culprit had put things in motion with considerable speed.

Hiring soldiers. Drafting up a plan of attack. Narrowing down the strengths of Tu the Magic's defensive capabilities.

That was a different class of speed that even Shalk's agility couldn't keep up with.

Looks like there's a really shrewd somebody out there.

Even the young girl sitting in front of him had a chance of becoming Shalk's enemy, too.

Or perhaps, he had given her information during this conversation he shouldn't have, leaving himself at an unnecessary disadvantage.

That which he exchanged for a slight sense of dignity might have one day

served to force Shalk up against the wall. "You're a really nice guy, huh, Shalk?"

"Just getting the chance to hold hands with a beautiful girl is enough to hook any man."

"Tee-hee. Was my hand nice and soft?" "...Yeah."

The Sixways Exhibition was underway. Already, in some hidden place none were aware of.