In Loki's room, a needle pricked skin and a thin line of blood traced the parchment as she wrote atop Bert's back.
"Mhm—yep. You've earned a promotion all right. Counting you, our Familia now has four Level 5s." Loki's grin widened as she read the fresh status. "So… next one up should be Raul, right?"
Bert didn't bite. "That guy? Not anytime soon."
"Then who do you think it'll be?" Loki asked, curiosity—and a hint of gossip—sparkling in her eyes.
"Next… Alicia and Angie look more likely."
"Eh?" Loki blinked. She hadn't expected Bert to favor Alicia and Angie over Raul. "And why's that? Is there a story there?"
Bert's mouth twitched. There was no winning against this gossip goddess. "No story. They're just working hard."
"Raul's head's been outside the Dungeon lately," he said flatly. "He barely shows up in the Training Space or the Challenge Space. With the way he is right now, until he settles his mess outside, he won't even be thinking about a promotion."
Bert had basically lived in those spaces for a month, and the faces he saw most belonged to Alicia and Angie—sweating, grinding, pushing forward. They'd worked so hard it made him want to talk to Tsunayoshi about giving them a real shot. Raul, meanwhile… was another matter.
"In the past month I've seen Raul all of three times," Bert added. "And only in the Training Space—never the Challenge Space. Three short sessions, each under half a day. No matter how good the facility is, you won't get results like that."
"Ah… that's… troublesome," Loki muttered, scratching her head. "I only wanted him to pass along intel about Tsunayoshi, and he got himself hooked."
"That elf harlot must be thrilled—found herself a 'family man,'" Bert sneered. "But he's not doing her any favors. He's just wasting his own window."
"We have a golden chance as a Familia right now," he went on. "And he's choosing to drown in skirts. Even Tsunayoshi, with two Amazon Level 5s buzzing around him, hasn't lost himself—he trains every day, even helps me train. Raul dreaming he can coast like this? Get real."
Loki sighed. She'd known Raul's will wasn't iron. "Whether he keeps sinking is his choice. But I'm the one who set him on that errand in the first place… so some of this is on me."
"Don't make excuses for him," Bert said. "Even if you hadn't asked, he'd still be running to the Pleasure District—and he's got a record of 'borrowing' funds for it. The result was coming either way. You didn't tell him to go every day. Being a messenger isn't a daily job. He's in there because he wants to be."
"If he likes falling, let him fall," Bert added coldly. "When Alicia and Angie climb past him, maybe he'll finally feel the crisis and come back to his senses. As for whether that's your fault—please. You handed him an opportunity. He made the choices. He hugged the women. Now he won't shoulder the consequences? No one's skin should be that thick."
Raul's biggest problem was simple: he couldn't keep the small head from ruling the big one.
"Loki, don't meddle too much," Bert finished. "Let the idiot notice for himself when Alicia and Angie pull ahead. Otherwise he'll just rebel against any push."
Loki thought it over and nodded. "All right. I'll leave it be—for now. Tonight, we celebrate your Level 5 excelia."
Bert didn't refuse. He knew the promotion news needed to spread—to help draw eyes where Tsunayoshi needed them. He was more than willing to play that role.
"By the way, where's Tsunayoshi?" he asked.
"In his room, most likely. Need him for something?"
"Yeah. I want to talk to him about Alicia and Angie. They've been pushing themselves. I think they deserve a proper shot more than Raul does."
Loki's smile turned sly. "Is this really just for Alicia and Angie… or are you also trying to prod Raul?"
"Shut it. It's for those two women," Bert shot back, snatching up his shirt and heading for the door. "I only have contempt for people who choose to rot."
The door slammed behind him with satisfying volume.
"This guy is never honest," Loki chuckled, shaking her head. The wolf's personality was exactly the sort to invite criticism—and affection—in equal measure.
(End of Chapter)
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