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The four of them were Pathstriders—individuals whose physical limits were merely suggestions. Tracking down Sampo was less of a chase and more of a brief jog.
"Stop running, Sampo," Kenta called out, his voice echoing through the rusted pipes. He knew his old partner's playbook by heart; if you didn't call him out directly, he'd keep 'sprinting toward a business meeting' until the end of time.
Sampo skidded to a halt. Realizing the game was up, he spun around, his face instantly rearranging itself into a mask of pure, unadulterated delight.
"Oh, goodness! It's you folks! I was wondering why I was being pursued by such formidable figures. I thought you were bandits out for my meager earnings, so I naturally picked up the pace... If I'd known it was my favorite group of heroes, I would have greeted you with open arms!"
In a single sentence, Sampo managed to project flattery, sycophancy, and a desperate plea of innocence.
"Cut the act," March 7th retorted, crossing her arms. "You ran because you saw us and your conscience—if you even have one—started screaming."
As Sampo prepared another elaborate excuse, Kenta stepped in. "Alright, enough. I know him. These guys have a bone to pick with you, Sampo. They're looking for an explanation, not a sales pitch."
Seeing the unified, stern nods from the Trailblazers, Sampo feigned a look of wounded surprise. "So that's it! Did I inadvertently offend my good friends? My heart bleeds!"
What followed was a barrage of questioning: Why did you leave us to the Silvermane Guards? Why did you trick Dan Heng into a prize fight? Why did you drug us? Sampo, however, was a professional; he deflected every accusation with a pre-prepared script of "misunderstandings" and "necessary precautions."
"To show my sincerity," Sampo said, pivoting the conversation, "I will introduce you to Wildfire. If you're looking for anything in the Underworld, they're the ones with the maps. And I heard from young Dan Heng that you're hunting a 'Stellaron'? That sounds like a heavy-duty item. Only Wildfire would have a lead on that."
The group fell into a thoughtful silence, but Dan Heng remained cold. "Didn't you say the only way to get a lead was to win the championship at the Fight Club?"
Sampo let out two awkward, dry laughs. "Right... well! You won, you're famous now! Wildfire only meets with the elite. It's all part of the branding!"
The group was speechless at the sheer audacity of the man. As Sampo began leading them toward the Wildfire headquarters, Kenta felt a familiar urge. He stepped up and dropped a heavy, possessive hand onto Sampo's shoulder.
Sampo froze. A very bad premonition began to chill his spine. Before he could turn his head, Kenta's voice drifted into his ear—low, dark, and utterly predatory.
"Old buddy... you made a killing on the betting pools for that match, didn't you?"
A bead of cold sweat rolled down Sampo's temple. "Ah, haha! Partner, what are you talking about? My pockets are as empty as a dry well!"
"Fifty percent," Kenta smiled, his eyes glinting. "Don't play dumb with me, Sampo. I saw you checking the odds."
Sampo's eyes twitched. "Is... is that sweat on your brow, partner?"
"No," Kenta whispered. "It's the tears of a man who knows he's getting a dividend. Fifty-fifty. Pay up, or I tell Natasha you've been 'borrowing' from the clinic's petty cash again."
Sampo looked utterly distressed, his face crumpling as if he were about to weep. Seeing a grown man make such a pathetic expression made Kenta slightly uncomfortable, but—as the meme goes—I don't eat beef. His heart was made of stone when it came to Sampo's margins.
Ultimately, under Kenta's "sincere" coercion, Sampo accepted the exorbitant terms with a whimper.
The group resumed their search for Wildfire traces in Boulder Town, but before they could find an official contact, a familiar figure caught their eye.
"Wait, look! Over there!" March 7th pointed toward a crowded alleyway.
Stelle squinted, her golden eyes sharpening. "Is that... Bronya?"
Kenta was floored. She wandered all the way from the clinic to the market district? But the surprise quickly turned to alarm. Bronya was surrounded by a group of ragged, hostile-looking vagrants. Though they were too far to hear the words, the body language was clear: it was an ambush.
"What are they doing?" March cried.
Before they could even take a step, one of the vagrants leveled a flintlock rifle.
Bang!
The gunshot tore through the air, the crack echoing off the stone walls. March and the others only saw a black blur.
Clang!
When the dust settled, Kenta was standing directly between Bronya and the shooter. He hadn't even drawn his sword; he had pinned the fired bullet to the cobblestones using only the reinforced tip of his black sheath.
"So fast..." March whispered, her jaw dropping.
"I didn't expect you to move faster than me," a cold, feminine voice cut through the tension.
A quantum shimmer flickered beside Kenta, and Seele materialized, her scythe already resting on her shoulder. The vagrants, seeing the former Captain of the Tenth and the "Butterfly" of Wildfire standing together, didn't wait for a second shot.
"It's them! Run!"
Kenta watched them scatter, memorizing their faces for a future "chat." He turned his attention to the girl behind him.
"Hmph. Spineless cowards who only pick on the lost," Seele spat.
Sampo scurried forward, offering frantic, flattering words to Kenta and Seele, but both ignored him entirely. Seele turned toward the gray-haired intruder. "I heard a Silvermane Guard had found her way down here. So, it was—"
She stopped. Her voice died in her throat.
Bronya was currently clutching Kenta's arm, her face a mix of relief and a delicate, grateful shyness. She looked fragile, almost clingy—a far cry from the iron-willed Commander they'd met in the Overworld.
"How did you end up here?" Kenta asked, his face serious but his tone rich with concern. "Why didn't you fight back? You could have dismantled them in seconds."
"I woke up and wanted to find you," Bronya said softly, her eyes fixed on Kenta. "I didn't know the way. I asked for directions, but I didn't expect them to turn hostile. As a Guard, I... I can't just attack the people of Belobog, even if they've been forgotten. I didn't think he would actually fire."
The two of them shared a moment of quiet, intense focus—until Seele reached her breaking point.
She stepped forward with a face like a thunderstorm and abruptly yanked Bronya's hands off Kenta's arm.
"What's wrong with you?" Seele hissed, her aggression levels redlining. "Does a 'Lady' from the Overworld not understand basic personal space? Or are you just that desperate for a man to hide behind?"
Seele's words were a jagged blade. Stelle, watching from the sidelines, decided this was one fight she didn't need to join.
Bronya, caught off guard by the sudden shove, regained her footing, her own temper flaring. "What nonsense are you talking about? Even if I were 'clinging,' that is between Kenta and me. You have no right to interfere!"
"Oh? And do you act this 'delicate' on the battlefield, Miss High Commander? Or is the helpless act just for him?" Seele retorted, her speed in an argument matching her speed in combat.
Bronya choked on her next word, her elite education failing her in the face of Seele's raw, street-level venom. "You—!"
Kenta, sensing the literal and metaphorical temperature reaching critical levels, stepped between them. "Alright, alright! Everyone, lower the weapons. March, Dan Heng, Stelle... you remember Bronya. And this—" he gestured to Seele, "is Seele, one of Wildfire's best."
But the introductions were the spark that lit the powder keg. Before the Trailblazers could even wave hello, the two women spoke in a simultaneous, thunderous harmony.
"Bronya? You're that wicked woman from the Overworld who keeps thinking about him!" Seele shouted.
"Seele? You're the villain who tricked him into coming to the Underworld!" Bronya countered.
Kenta stood in the center of the crossfire, realizing that while he'd survived robots and bullets, he might not survive the next five minutes.
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