Chapter 276: White Masks

Chapter 276: White Masks

“It’s rare for you to miss even a single round,” Felicia Thundershnauf said. The black mask-wearing ball of snow-white hair said with her back toward the newly arrived, white mask-wearing trio. Unlike the other times she spoke, this time her voice was not magnified for all the crowds to hear, which allowed speaking discretely with the privileged.

All three figures that arrived through one of many secret tunnels behind them wore fiery-red robes. All three had hoods on their heads to conceal even their hairstyles, though the masks were fully visible. Two—the tallest figures that stood behind, at either side of the middle figure—held their hands behind their backs, with straight and proper posture, chest out, shoulders wide. A posture of guards at their post.

“Bah! That annoying old hag had her fucking—shit! Fuck! Forget it!” the shortest of the three white masks cursed repeatedly as she walked up to the railings next to the white-haired announcer. The voice clearly belonged to a young female, and even the hanging fiery red robes could not fully hide her developed body. Short as the female white mask was compared to the other two, the girl still had a full head over the hairball who barely reached five feet.

“I hope I didn’t miss anything particularly exciting,” the girl sighed and casually rested against the metal bars: elbows on the metal, head in hands. “Usually, the first round is just to get rid of the boring shitters, so it should be fine.”

Though the girl’s expression was fully hidden behind the mask, her frustration radiated from her voice and posture. She looked down to the crowds, in the same direction that the announcer was looking.

The announcer of the games paid little attention to the swearing or complaining of the white-masked girl. She simply continued watching the debauchery of the citizens of Klapsus with slight amusement. “Like children eating dirt, aren’t they?”

“H-What!?” the white mask looked at the back of the white hairball.

“Ah, right... My bad! Terribly sorry for the poor joke,” Felicia made a half-assed apology after a moment’s pause and continued observing the arena and the participants that slowly returned to it. Number Seven was among the first to arrive, well in advance of the time limit, even before the white masks arrived.

“Not much need for rest for that one?” Felicia giggled. “I hope he doesn’t have ‘performance issues’ in the bedroom. Though it would explain the overcompensation on the battlefield, wouldn’t it?”

“Hmm? Almost, yes,” Felicia nodded as she counted the participants who were already in the arena along with their shirtless, kilt-wearing escorts. “A couple more are on their way. See? On those three paths?”

“... Wasn’t there a couple participating tonight? Both wore fur, the woman had glasses...”

“Oh, yes! They’re dead.”

“WHAT!? ... Really? After all the trouble I went through... I was sure that it would have at least some effect...”

“What effect?” Felicia’s tone of voice changed abruptly, no longer the playful one.

“I guess none if they kicked it against these shitters!” the girl exhaled in frustration.

“Your highness, may I ask what you were expecting from those two?” Felicia insistently probed for information.

The girl turned her head toward the little hairball and looked down on the announcer. “What. Did. I. Miss?”

“Are you perhaps referring to the nine or ten feet tall, four-armed, two-headed mutant?”