"—Huh?!"
When Mizuno heard Gold Ship ask him to hand over Fortune, his mind went completely blank.
Wait a minute—so what Broshi had been after all this time was Fortune?! But how did she even know Fortune existed? He hadn't slipped up, had he?
After thinking it over, Mizuno realized it actually made sense. Back when Misfortune cornered them at the Back-Mountain Warehouse, he'd kept shouting Fortune's servant this and Fortune's servant that. Gold Ship only needed to reason a little to deduce that Misfortune must have an archrival named Fortune.
What Mizuno couldn't understand was why Gold Ship wanted to take Fortune away from him.
"Broshi, why though?!" Mizuno asked, utterly lost.
Gold Ship lowered her head, hesitating for a moment, clearly struggling with how to answer.
Then, as if she'd finally decided, she raised her head, tightened her arms around his neck, and locked eyes with him, speaking with complete seriousness:
"Because I want to become Fortune's servant!"
"Huh? Become her servant?" Mizuno's face twisted in disbelief.
Don't tell him Broshi wanted to be lucky—was that really the reason?
If this were any normal world, being chosen by the Goddess of Fortune would be a dream—go out for a walk, stumble onto cash; strike a pose, someone falls in love.
But this was Tracen.
And here, being Fortune's servant didn't mean luck.
Because Fortune was ridiculously weak! Just summoning a few Uma Musume drained all her energy. Heal someone once, and she'd fall into a month-long coma. Her stats were so low she'd be cannon fodder in a fantasy RPG, a nameless mortal in a xianxia story—the type the protagonist could blow away with a single kick.
As Fortune's servant, not only did you have to actively gather energy to feed her, but you also had to live under constant threat from Misfortune—her mortal enemy. One misstep, and you'd be crushed like an ant.
Honestly, compared to himself, even Kaneshiro Takeru—a regular trainer—seemed luckier! At least that guy didn't have to worry about getting killed; he just had to focus on looking after his Uma.
Becoming Fortune's servant was all loss and no gain. Pure unpaid labor! A high-risk job with zero reward—and a decent chance of dying on the clock.
As his sworn bro, how could Mizuno possibly drag Gold Ship into this pit with him?
So he started talking, fast and hard—painting Fortune in the worst possible light.
He said she was a conniving, two-faced goddess who toyed with people for fun, an absolutely terrible boss whose company anyone would hate working for. Her abilities? Trash. She couldn't even handle her rival properly—had to resort to deception just to barely seal Misfortune away. Totally worthless!
Mizuno went on and on, saying whatever it took to make her drop the idea.
"Broshi, you get it now, right? Being Fortune's servant isn't what you think."
He sighed heavily and reached out to gently ruffle Gold Ship's hair, hoping she'd understand there was no point in taking on this burden.
But instead of discouraging her, his words only strengthened her resolve.
Gold Ship furrowed her brow and asked the key question:
"If being Fortune's servant is so painful, then why are you doing it, Mizuno-dono?"
"Well, that's... sigh..." Mizuno's eyes darted away as he sighed again, then slowly explained:
"I didn't choose this. I was forced into it. Honestly, I don't care about fighting Misfortune. Other people's lives have nothing to do with me..."
"But someone's gotta do it. You can't just let some freak who kills Uma Musume roam free, right? What if I get dragged into it later?"
"So I accepted. If there were someone better suited than me, I'd have quit ages ago…"
He spread his hands helplessly, as though life had left him no other option.
"Oh?" Gold Ship arched a brow. "So if someone was willing to take that duty on, you'd give it up?"
"Of course!" Mizuno nodded. "This kind of thankless job? Not fit for a human! If some idiot volunteered to replace me, I'd quit on the spot!"
"Then leave it to me," Gold Ship murmured softly.
"Huh?" Mizuno blinked, unsure if he'd heard correctly—or maybe he had, but couldn't believe it.
"I said—leave it to me!" Gold Ship gritted her teeth, pulling him close until their noses nearly touched, his trembling pupils filling her vision.
"Let me take your place as Fortune's servant. Let me bear that pain instead of you!"
Mizuno froze for a moment—then shook his head violently.
"No way! Absolutely not!" He refused instantly, without hesitation.
"Why?!" Gold Ship's confusion turned to anger, her voice rising as she shouted:
"Didn't you just say if you found some idiot willing to replace you, you'd quit right away?!"
"Uh…" Mizuno averted his eyes, guilt flashing across his face.
He instinctively tried to back away, but her grip was too tight.
Gold Ship saw everything—every flicker of avoidance, every twitch.
"..." Her lips trembled, biting down so hard it seemed she'd draw blood. Disappointment filled her shaking eyes.
"So now…you're lying to me too…?"
That hit Mizuno like a knife to the chest.
She was right. He was lying.
He wasn't the type who didn't care about others' lives. In fact, he cared too much—especially about those close to him.
To Mizuno, truth was often cruel, and lies were the oil that kept the world turning. As long as a lie protected people without harming them, it was a kind lie—and he'd never felt guilty.
But even so, giving away his role as Fortune's servant—passing on that suffering to someone else—was something he simply couldn't do.
Because Fortune herself had told him: he was the most compatible with her. In this world, no one was better suited to carry that burden.
So no matter who asked to take it from him—he'd never agree.
Especially not his closest friend.
"I knew it…" Gold Ship watched his expression carefully and saw the truth—he'd never intended to agree. Everything he'd said earlier had been just to placate her.
"Fine then. You forced me." Gold Ship's teeth clenched, her face twisting into something almost feral.
There was only one way to deal with a lying little human like him.
"Uma Pyoi."
Gold Ship hefted Mizuno onto her shoulder in one smooth motion, striding straight into the bedroom and tossing him onto the large heart-shaped bed in the center.
Before he could react, she straddled his abdomen, completely pinning him down.
Her tall frame blocked the ceiling light, shrouding her face in shadow—as though brushed with ink that could never be wiped away.
From those sorrowful pink eyes, a single clear tear slipped free, sliding down her cheek and landing right above the heart of the friend she'd once cherished most.
"From today onward," she whispered, voice trembling with finality, "you and I are no longer brothers."