Chapter 217: March 7th: Maybe I Should Pick a Title Related to Rekka?...So Embarrassing, Forget It!
"Nah, if we end up facing you in the bracket, we're just gonna forfeit, Clara." Luka strolled up from behind the little girl, resting his hands behind his head with a wide, easygoing grin.
Clara turned around, her red eyes widening in surprise. "Big brother Luka!...But why?"
"Hey, no need to look so worried—you've already done an amazing job." Luka waved his metallic arm dismissively, chuckling. "Do you have any idea what's happening out there right now? Your story is completely blowing up! 'Belobog's bravest little girl'—you've got legions of fans cheering for you on the interastral net. We originally came to this tournament to put Belobog on the map, and you've already achieved that better than anyone else could have. Well, Hook did her part too, but... ahem, anyway, you both crushed it."
A heavy mechanical whir echoed as Svarog stepped forward, his massive chassis lowering until he was kneeling in front of her. "Clara. My primary directive here is solely to ensure your safety. Based on current combat data analysis, the probability of you encountering lethal danger in this arena has dropped below 0.01%. We will observe and provide vocal support from the spectator stands. Safety remains the highest priority. Securing the championship is statistically irrelevant."
Only when speaking to this specific little girl did the towering, semi-awakened ancient mech display a gentle, almost paternal warmth that completely defied his cold, calculating exterior.
Clara blinked, her small hands clutching the edges of her red coat.
Svarog's optical sensor glowed with a soft, steady crimson light. "Your biometric readings indicated severe anxiety during the previous match, yet you exhibited immense bravery. Although fear was evident, you stood on that stage alone, enduring the gaze of thousands. Clara, your performance has already exceeded all optimal projections."
Clara sniffled, rubbing her eyes before nodding vigorously. "Mm... Clara still doesn't quite understand all those complicated adult things, but Clara is going to keep working hard! In the next match, Clara wants to win!"
Hearing her slightly nasally but incredibly determined declaration, Luka paused in surprise. A moment later, a massive grin broke across his face, and he shot her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
"Well said! Now that's the fiery spirit a true Belobog champion needs! Move over, Oleg—from now on, you're the Underworld's new Boxing Champion!"
Out in the arena, the loudspeakers crackled to life with deafening volume.
"Audience friends! It is that thrilling moment once again!" Owlbert's voice echoed through the stadium, dripping with practiced hype. "Introducing the super dark horse contestant hailing from the icy world of Belobog—the [Bang Bang Demon King], Clara! Do not let her fragile appearance fool you, folks! This young lady possesses the raw power to shatter half the arena with a single punch! Underestimate her, and you will pay a terrible price!"
The avian commentator paused, dramatically gasping into the microphone to feign absolute shock.
"And her opponent... hailing from the infamous [Stellaron Hunters]—it is SAM! Oh my stars! It is actually the fierce, brutal, and utterly merciless Stellaron Hunter! What should we do?! Is our sweet contestant Clara truly about to face off against the mechanical nightmare with a 9.723 billion credit bounty on his head from the Interstellar Peace Corporation?!"
Down in the competitor's dugout, Rekka stared blankly at the stage.
The "terrifying Stellaron Hunter" currently stepping into the ring was... not a towering, fire-wielding mecha. Instead, three guys had waddled onto the stage, entirely encased in giant, cylindrical trash can suits painted in garish shades of gold, silver, and bronze. They looked like they were participating in some bizarre, avant-garde performance art.
Yet, the well-traveled Owlbert remained a consummate professional, completely ignoring the sheer absurdity of the visual and hyping them up with fanatical enthusiasm.
Clara tilted her head, her brow furrowing in deep confusion. "You... who are you misters?"
The Gold Trash Can wobbled forward, striking what was presumably meant to be a menacing pose. "We are—the legendary Stellaron Hunters! And our absolute favorite hobbies are... fighting, total destruction, and eating little children!"
Rekka clamped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders violently shaking as he fought a losing battle against his own laughter.
Clara stared blankly at the three wobbling, metallic cylinders. For a moment, she was completely at a loss for what kind of facial expression she was even supposed to make. She glanced back toward the dugout.
"Big brother Rekka... do I really have to fight them?" she asked hesitantly.
These strange uncles wearing garbage bins didn't seem very bright to begin with. If she actually hit them with her full strength, wouldn't she punch them into permanent idiocy?
Rekka leaned over the railing, gesturing for her to come closer. He whispered a few quick words into the little girl's ear.
Clara blinked in surprise, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. When she turned back to look at the three trash cans, the confusion in her red eyes had melted into a pool of deep, obvious pity. Taking a deep breath, her expression shifted into one of absolute resolve.
"I... I understand, big brother," she whispered back. "Clara will be very careful with her strength."
Marching back to the center of the ring, she faced the trio of metallic imposters. She forced her soft features into the most serious, intimidating scowl she could muster.
"Uncles who probably need to go see a doctor... Clara is coming."
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Three casual, entirely uncharged punches shot out. The metallic impacts rang through the arena like a cracked bell. The three trash cans instantly launched into the air, spinning wildly end-over-end. They flew incredibly high, tracing three perfect, glittering arcs against the stadium lights.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The trio crashed down hard, neatly stacking on top of one another just outside the boundary of the ring.
"Incredible!" Owlbert shrieked into the mic. "With just three casual swings of her arms, contestant Clara has once again demonstrated her utterly terrifying strength! Three trash cans have been violently ejected from the ring! This is a clean, decisive, and flawless victory! What a beautiful Shoryuken!"
Up in the stands, the crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and utter bewilderment.
"She's way too strong! That Clara girl is a monster..."
"Were those three guys just here for a comedy routine? They literally just flew away!"
Down on the floor, muffled groans echoed from inside the dented bins.
"Big bro... my stomach is killing me..."
"Wh... what kind of spatial displacement was that?"
"I think... I think I have a fracture..."
A few minutes later, Rekka and Stelle stood over the crumpled pile of metal.
"Alright, you three," Stelle demanded, crossing her arms. "Explain exactly why you felt the need to use Sam's name."
"Ugh... have mercy, heroes..." The three trash cans groaned, awkwardly shuffling until they were sitting upright on the floor.
"Uh—look, honestly, the three of us are just trying to chase some clout," the Gold Trash Can confessed, his voice echoing hollowly from inside the suit. "We did a search and realized that the 'Sam'trademark hadn't actually been officially registered yet. So, we went onto the Interstellar Peace Corporation's public registry and claimed the name'Sam'in advance. Technically, we registered our group as the'Galaxy Hunters', not the Stellaron Hunters..."
"Yeah! The fans in our livestream kept joking that we possessed the 'Innate Sam Constitution' because of our armor, so we just went ahead and filed the paperwork for both the Sam trademark and the Galaxy Hunters..." Gold answered.
"Good grief..." Stelle rubbed her temples, utterly speechless. "You guys are literally high-imitation bootlegs."
Pulling out her phone, Stelle snapped a quick picture of the pathetic trio.
Stelle: [Photo Attachment]
Stelle: Firefly, look. They're out here pretending to be you.
A few seconds later, her screen lit up with rapid-fire notifications.
Firefly:???
Firefly: [Angry Sticker]
Firefly: That is NOT me! I am absolutely not that... round?!
"The three of us had to empty our savings just to scrape together the exorbitant IPC trademark registration fee..." the Silver Trash Can whined.
"Yeah, yeah! And who could have guessed that literally an hour after we registered it, we'd get an official notice from the IPC's legal department?" The Bronze Trash Can chimed in, sounding on the verge of tears. "They flagged it as a 'malicious trademark squatting attempt' and instantly canceled it! All our hard-earned Credit Points went straight down the drain..."
"Then why did you still bother showing up to the competition?" Rekka asked, raising an eyebrow.
"We figured... well, since we were already here, and the trademark we paid for was gone anyway... we might as well show our faces on the big stage," Gold muttered. "What if we went viral and got famous? We just decided to treat the whole thing like a piece of interactive performance art..."
The Gold, Silver, and Bronze Trash Can Brothers sat slumped on the floor, awkwardly scratching their metallic lids.
Stelle stared down at the three pathetic lumps sitting on the floor, completely devoid of words. She glanced back down at her phone screen. Firefly's messages were still frantically popping up one after another, each text radiating a deep aura of unhappiness that practically bled through the digital display.
After being subjected to such a low-quality bootleg, the usually composed Stellaron Hunter had completely devolved into a whining mess.
'Is my cool image going to be completely ruined in Stelle's eyes because of these three idiots?!'
"Dear audience!" Owlbert's voice boomed through the stadium once more, snapping their attention back to the ring. "The arena repairs have been successfully completed! Although there was a slight... uh, a rather small accident and bizarre interlude during our first group's match, I guarantee that the next bout will be even more thrilling! Let us hear a massive round of applause for our next pair of contestants!"
The commentator paused, intentionally letting the silence stretch to build the suspense.
"Please welcome the bright and bubbly contestant representing the Astral Express—[Light Yagami], March 7th! And facing off against her, the fierce combatants of the [Guinaifen Support Association]!"
Stelle blinked her golden eyes, staring blankly at the jumbotron. "What in the world is a 'Light Yagami'? Is that supposed to be a reference to some alternate version of March?"
"Uh... well." Rekka coughed awkwardly, looking away.
It had just been a random, chaotic joke he threw out while they were brainstorming stage names, but somehow, the pink-haired archer had actually taken it completely seriously.
As for the real reason behind the bizarre moniker?
Actually, March 7th had originally spent hours trying to come up with a cool, matching title that was directly related to Rekka. But in the end, she had completely abandoned the idea.
Why? Because the moment she tried to practice saying it out loud, her face had turned bright red, and she realized it was just way too embarrassing to announce to the entire universe.
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