My surroundings were hazy.
I couldn't quite make out what was around me. I could only faintly make out the outlines of another figure. Who the figure was, I couldn't tell.
"What do you think...?"
"I don't know."
As I lowered my head, my eyes fell on what seemed to be the details of three projects.
My mind flashed.
Would I finally get an answer to the project selection problem I was having?
My mouth parted.
"Should we just go with this one?"
"I don't know... The show has run its course. They're already at the seventh edition. People are already losing interest. Things aren't the same as in the past when the show took the Star Chasing scene by storm."
Hm?
I strained my ears to pay more attention.
"That's a pity."
"Yeah, but with all shows, everything will run its course after a while."
"That's true."
My future self nodded in agreement.
"What do you think about the two other projects?"
"Mhh... Well, they definitely are more appealing than 'Clash of Swords'. At the very least, they should perform better than that."
"I agree."
"...I wish things were as nice as back in the day, but we won't really find another show like that for the time being."
"Yeah. I doubt we'll see another show accrue a 14% rating."
Eh? My mind halted at the words that came out of my mouth.
14%?
In this modern day, achieving anything above 3% was considered good, and yet, he was telling me that the project managed to achieve 14%?
What sort of godly project was this...?
And how come I had never heard of such a show?
"Yeah, I don't thi—"
But before I could even get excited, the vision shattered.
"Uh?"
I was taken aback. That was quick. Incredibly quick. Typically, the vision would last much longer than that before abruptly ending.
Yet, for some reason, the vision today was quick.
But...
"I have enough to work with."
My hands were already working as I searched 'Clash of Swords' on the web. It was a show unfamiliar to me, but judging by their conversation in the vision, it appeared to be an incredibly successful show.
'I hope the show hasn't gone further than the fourth season.'
The vision was vague.
Extremely vague.
There were a lot of things I was unclear of such as how far into the future the vision was. The only thing I knew was that the project was in its seventh season and that it was estimated to flop.
'Still, I'm surprised I don't know about it.'
14% rating...
Those were numbers of the legends. Then it suddenly hit me as my fingers paused. My heart, which had previously been calm, trembled.
===
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"Uh?"
The result of my search wasn't something I expected.
Because everything had been so hazy it was hard for me to observe the minute detail of the situation. I had thought the vision would go as far as a couple of years to a couple of months, but for it to be seven years?
My heart, which had steadied over my search, beat even more fiercely.
"If that's the case..."
I didn't even hesitate to call Dean up.
He answered within two beeps.
—Liam? What's going on? Is there something wrong with the girls?
"Nothing of the sort."
—Then...
"I need a favor."
—Oh? What is it?
"I need some help finding a certain project. It's called Clash of Swords. I don't know if you kn—"
—I know it.
Eh?
I was taken aback.
I didn't expect him to know it.
—Why are you asking all of a sudden...?
He seemed rather hesitant as well.
Just what...
"Is there something wrong with the project?"
—Hmm. Not particularly. Well, maybe a little, but that shouldn't be something that should concern you.
Maybe a little?
Thorns. Dean's voice made me aware of the possible thorns surrounding the project.
But despite knowing about the thorns, I still pressed.
"Why exactly?"
—The thing is...
Dean took a brief pause. His rough breathing echoed through the phone speakers.
—The project. It's not a group project.
"Yes?"
—It's an individual project. One that only allows sword users.
"..."
At that moment, no words came out of my mouth.
An individual project? Sword users only?
This wasn't what I expected...
—...So, do you still want to know about the project?
Dean's voice snapped me out of it, and I swallowed my words. Then, after thinking for a moment, I still nodded.
"Yes... Send me the project."
***
"What's this...?"
Olivia glanced at the piece of paper Lyla had handed her. Lyla television permission slip? Just what sort of thing was this? She thought but quickly dismissed it with her hand.
"If you have n—"
"Freedom."
"...What?"
Olivia looked back at Lyla.
Lyla was staring at her with an expression of utmost seriousness. Lowering her head, she smacked the paper on her desk and pointed at it.
"This. Freedom."
Her aggressive tone reminded Olivia of those diplomats in movies and her mouth twitched.
"Television is freedom?"
Nod. Nod.
"Human right."
Olivia rubbed her brows, feeling a headache coming.
But then, she thought of something and a smile graced her lips.
"...And all humans deserve freedom?"
"Yes."
"But what if the human did something bad? Like killed everyone you knew?"
"...!"
"...And what if that criminal broke your TV?"
"...!"
"Do you still think they deserve freedom?"
Lyla's expression gradually crumbled.
Breaking her TV?
"Such Evildoer needs to be vanquished at all cos...!"
Lyla caught herself before it was too late. Her eyes opened wide at the realization.
Ah!
She had almost slipped.
Lyla squinted her eyes and glared at her opponent.
What terrifying deception.
"What in the fucking..."
Olivia was so taken aback by Lyla's expressions that she hadn't even noticed that she had sworn. Not that she cared since she tended to swear as often as she breathed.
Lyla looked into her eyes and pushed the paper.
"Now. Sign."
"I... Didn't you hear what I said—who's idea was this?"
"Manager."
"That fucker...? Oh, right. I mean, that guy?"
This time. Olivia noticed it, but it was a little too late for her to correct herself. She still did try to correct herself, but Lyla had already heard her words.
'Fucker?'
"Never mind that. If it's that guy, then everything makes sense. Only he would come up with something like this. And I thought we all agreed... Wait a second."
Olivia snatched the paper, and her face crumbled.
"Mia signed it...?"
"Um."
"What in the... Haa..."
Olivia looked at Lyla.
"Don't tell me you pretended to cry in front of her to get her to sign this?"
"...!"
What astounding perception!
"So you really did do that..."
Lyla looked away.
"The answer is no."
"...!"
"Go back. I still have things to do."
"Sniff...?"
"That won't work on me. You know full well I take joy in watching children cry."
"...?"
"Whoops."
Perhaps realizing her slip of the tongue, Olivia covered her mouth.
"That came out wrong..."
Or did it?
Fortunately for her, Lyla's mind was too preoccupied with other things to pay attention to her words.
Since the skill 'gain sympathy through tears' had failed, she had to change her approach.
Thankfully, she had come prepared. She hadn't spent the last three years idly.
Lyla clenched her fists.
In all honesty. She was hesitant. She had been saving this weapon for a while, now. All for the right occasion. But when she thought about it, she realized. There was no better occasion than now.
And so.
"Come."
She nudged Olivia with her little arms.
"What...? Are you still not giving up?"
"Come."
Lyla nudged again.
"Alright, fine. What is it."
In the end, Olivia gave up and moved closer to Lyla. Walking closer to Olivia, Lyla whispered something in her ear, and soon after, Olivia broke into a smile.
"You should've said so before."
Snatching the paper from Lyla, she swiftly signed it.
"Kakakaka."
And she laughed like a witch.
Once signed, Lyla snatched the paper from her hands.
"..."
Her lips curled into a hazy smile as she gazed at the second signature on her paper. She soon broke into her own fit of laughter.
"Kakaka."
And so.
In the quiet space of Olivia's room.
An adult and a child erupted in laughter, their voices echoing like that of a deranged witch.
"Kakakakakaka."
"Kukukukuk."
The second Demon King had been conquered.
***
"An individual project that only allows Sword Users..."
Those were the main requirements for 'Clash of Swords'. It wasn't a particularly famous project since the production company seemed to be a rather medium-sized one.
Winsdol-Enterprises.
They had a couple of successful projects under their belt, but failures too.
All in all, the project was what could be considered 'decent' by company standards.
I still wasn't aware of what the project was about as Dean had only sent a brief detail on it. According to him, in order to actually get my hands on the project, I needed to get direct permission from the Leader of Unit 1, who for some reason seemed to despise me.
"Haa."
The thought made me sigh.
This was going to be a lot more trouble than I imagined it to be. But this little setback wasn't going to make me give up.
This project...
I needed it.
Because... I knew the right person for it.
[Time — 17 : 52]
"I should get going."
The person in question was none other than Sarah. Since the project required a Sword user, I was going to provide them with one.
A very talented one at that.
What I wanted to achieve with that project was the resuscitation of Sarah's confidence. I wanted to let the world see just how talented she was.
"Yeah... I need to get her in at all costs."
The way to the training rooms was rather short. Since I was already in the main Guild, all I needed to do was go to the third floor.
Ting—!
Stepping out of the elevator, I prepared to get changed when all of a sudden, my feet came to a stop.
"Sarah?"
"...!"
Seated on one of the benches outside of the training room was none other than Sarah. My appearance seemed to have startled her as her body flinched slightly.
"What are you doing here? Aren't you going to get changed?"
She was still wearing her normal clothes. A plain white shirt and long jeans.
"Don't tell me you want to train in those?"
"No."
I originally meant that as a joke but when her eyes guiltily drifted away from me, I finally realized that something was up.
I frowned.
"What's wrong? Why are you acting like this?"
"It's..."
Hesitating, Sarah eventually resigned and lifted her hand, pointing toward the training room.
And that was when I finally noticed it.
'Keep your body composed. Don't alter your center of gravity too much. You're leaving too many openings for the opponents to exploit... Good. Yeah, keep it up.'
A voice I was all too familiar with echoed from within the confines of the training room.
Although it was muffled, I recognized it immediately, and I finally got the gist of the situation.
At that moment, something within me burned up and my feet started to move.
As if the rage that I had been suppressing had suddenly burst, my face stiffened and my heart turned cold.
At that moment, I couldn't fathom what overcame me, but everything seemed to drain of color as my hands twitched.
Clank—!
I opened the doors of the training room and entered.