23. Last Man Standing
23. Last Man Standing
I tossed Ailey to the now-familiar protesters and focused on the contract with the magic tower.
After the last episode aired, the Body-Strengthening School had received a flood of rebroadcast requests.
Mostly from people who missed it, people who wanted to see it again, and people who got hooked because of that episode and wanted to binge it from the start.
The reason people were going wild over the appearance of the character Scapul was simple.
The actor playing Scapul ranked fifth in popularity even within Wrestle Kingdom.
Ring name: Juggernaut
Real name: Dreul Stardum
Race: orc.
His style relied on crushing opponents with overwhelming durability and exhilarating brute strength.
Rather than dismantling opponents with superior technique, he won through sheer weight class, and his wrestling stirred men's romantic ideals and primal instincts.
Even Allen had thought it was unexpected when Dreul auditioned for Magical Mari.
Unlike the other newcomers, he had no real need to promote himself.
In fact, Dreul's goal wasn't promotion.
- People think that because of how I look in the ring, I never actually learned anything and can't use any technique.
Instead, his goal was to change his image.
To be fair, the average orc wasn't exactly known for being learned, and the image of a race that fought with nothing but size was undeniably strong.
But for Dreul, this was a raw deal—he was actually something of an elite actor among orcs, one who had mastered all sorts of techniques in order to enter a Sanctuary.
In truth, an actor's image was directly linked to the range of roles he could land, so Allen could understand Dreul's feelings.
When Allen brought Dreul on board, what he expected was to get roughly five percent of Wrestle Kingdom's viewers to also watch Magical Mari.
But contrary to his expectations, the number of viewers who started watching Mari reached twenty percent of Wrestle Kingdom's audience.
The Body-Strengthening School was currently screaming with joy over having gained a solid new cash cow right alongside Wrestle Kingdom.
Allen chewed on his pen as he looked over the schedule and contract the Body-Strengthening School had presented.
"Hmm... Is this right?"
The Body-Strengthening School's number-one show in viewership was Wrestle Kingdom. And number two, rapidly closing the gap, was Magical Mari.
In the case of Wrestle Kingdom, it was now airing five days a week due to fervent rebroadcast requests.
If he accepted their contract as proposed, Magical Mari would end up the same way.
Wasn't this practically a wrestling occupation?
He entertained the thought for a moment, but soon dropped it.
'If that was what the viewers wanted, what could I do?'
Allen moved his pen and signed the contract.
With this, Magical Mari's projected revenue would leap up several times over.
With this kind of money, the options open to him were numerous.
He could use it for remodeling the club room, or he could try launching a new venture.
If Allen got malicious, he could even embezzle those club funds to serve his personal desires.
And Allen was a man honest about his desires.
'I'd have more money for the next episode.'
The problem was, those desires were entirely focused on reinvestment.
And so, inside Allen's head, Magical Mari was gradually becoming something that had transcended magical girls.
It was then that the club room door suddenly burst open, pulling Allen from his musings.
"Boss. I think we've got a real problem this time."
"Why? Are the protesters holding a campfire or something?"
"No, that's not it..."
"Not it?"
"The Disciplinary Committee is here."
The hell do those bastards want now.
*
"In episode 9 of Magical Girl Magical Mari, aired on the 17th, your studio portrayed Hetairo Academy's Disciplinary Committee as incompetent. Because the committee's dignity and authority are directly tied to the academy's security and order, we are concerned about the effect this footage may have. We request that the representative of Bon Voyage Studio respond promptly by suspending the broadcast or editing the episode."
She barged into the club room without warning.
Watching the girl read a letter of complaint right in front of me, I thought:
Who the hell was this brat?
*
There's a saying that even the king gets cursed when he isn't looking.
That naturally held true in most democratic societies, but not in dictatorships.
So what about a medieval monarchy that didn't have even a hint of democracy?
Surprisingly, most monarchies were fairly tolerant of people cursing the ruler.
In a dictatorship, enough people cursing the ruler eroded the dictator's political legitimacy, but a monarch whose status was guaranteed by bloodline wasn't insecure enough to be shaken by some cursing—poking at it would just be asking for trouble.
In short, most of it was overlooked as long as one didn't curse the Emperor to his face.
The Emperor himself regularly watched satirical plays. Once, an actor invited to the palace even performed black comedy right in front of him.
And never, not even once, had the crime of insulting the imperial family been applied over something like that.
Which would naturally lead to a question.
Just what kind of organization was the Disciplinary Committee, that they'd pull something like this over a single video in a world where even cursing the Emperor was overlooked?
Well. I was curious too.
Which was why I intended to find out right now.
After politely sending away the Disciplinary Committee member who had read the complaint, I picked up my communication crystal.
- So, was that the collective will of the Disciplinary Committee, or an individual going rogue?
That was the question I fired off the moment I reached the Disciplinary Committee chair.
A while back, I'd taught Leon about comparisons to animals like wolves or to the symbol of the empire, the dragon, but I didn't bother with that kind of rhetorical flourish myself.
You twisted your words around when handling things was too tiresome.
But if I couldn't handle it, I never brought it up—and if I could handle it, I went straight for the throat.
That was better than twisting words around and causing misunderstandings for no reason.
To put it another way, when it came to my work, I was fully prepared to go straight for the throat of something like the academy's Disciplinary Committee.
Any attempt to censor my work was a challenge to me.
The department head must have sensed something in my attitude, because he chose his words carefully before answering.
[No matter how broad an eagle's vision, could it possibly keep track of every single falling feather?]
"You'd be better off speaking plainly. I'm an uncultured bastard, so I don't know much about rhetorical expressions."
[... That was a new recruit acting out of line.]
"How far am I allowed to go?"
[The Disciplinary Committee will issue an official statement clarifying we have no relation to the student in question. However, new recruits brimming with passion running wild is something that happens every year, so we would ask for a degree of leniency.]
"I'll think positively about it."
I ended the call and picked up the letter of complaint those passionate new recruits had left behind.
"I see."
At the very bottom of the complaint was a note reading: 'From a member of the Disciplinary Committee.'
At first glance it might look like the collective will of the department, but if it had been, they would've used phrasing like 'Representative of the Disciplinary Committee' or 'All members of the Disciplinary Committee.'
Apparently, they wanted to borrow the department's prestige but figured outright using their seniors' names would be more than they could handle if it backfired, so they resorted to this petty tactic.
If the other side heard the name of the Disciplinary Committee and got scared, it was a grand success. And if they mindlessly antagonized the entire department, that was also half a success.
Even in the worst case, where the other party saw through the trick, they'd likely calculated that a mere film club couldn't possibly do anything against the Disciplinary Committee.
'They were still kids, and they were already playing dirty.'
Coincidentally, what they hadn't accounted for was that I wasn't exactly a man who operated on logic.
I stuffed their complaint into the shredder and pulled a new form out of the drawer.
<Duel Request Form>
It had been a while since I had played the Madman of the Price Family.
*
"Another duel?"
"Why do this year's freshmen love duels so much?"
"Not they—just one guy."
"The Madman of the Price Family again?"
"Does that guy ever have a quiet day?"
The students talked like that, but their footsteps were already headed for the dueling grounds.
Didn't they say the best entertainment in the world was watching a fire and watching a fight?
There was no reason for them not to watch.
"Who's his opponent?"
"They say it's members of the Disciplinary Committee."
"Members? Not just one?"
"I hear the first-years who joined the Disciplinary Committee this year and one upperclassman are taking part."
"Should we call that courage, or arrogance?"
"Arrogance. No matter what, how's he supposed to win by himself?"
"Is that so? In that case, would you two gentlemen care to bet on Allen's defeat?"
"Huh? Who... Y-Your Highness!"
The two students who had been critiquing the madman of the Count Price household flinched and spun around.
There stood Leon, wearing a benevolent smile, leaning slightly forward as he looked down at them.
As it happened, both were from the Political Science Department, so they were acquainted with Leon.
"Th-That's not what we..."
The fact that Allen was Leon's close friend and sworn brother was already well known throughout the academy.
Would he think they had insulted his sworn brother?
Already sensing a crisis in their political careers, the two began stammering, trying to somehow smooth the situation over.
Leon merely watched them with gentle eyes.
"Worry not. Whatever you may think of me, no disadvantage shall fall upon you for something like that."
"But..."
"Or do you two see me as some petty man who would hold such a thing in his heart?"
"Not at all, Your Highness!"
Leon laughed wryly and took a seat beside them.
Behind him, the Bon Voyage Studio filming crew also sat down next to Leon.
The two students, who had suddenly found themselves watching the match beside an Imperial Prince, were practically sitting on pins and needles.
Leon had said he wouldn't hold it against them, but social life was never that simple.
Seeing the two young nobles looking like death warmed over, Leon chuckled and called over a passing vendor.
"Will you have some lemonade? Drink up while you introduce yourselves."
= Seriously, I don't care.
Only then did the two relax and accept the drinks Leon handed them.
Listening to their introductions, Leon smiled bitterly and muttered to himself.
"Honestly, these nobles..."
He himself was standing at the very top of that noble hierarchy, but even to his eyes, the speech of nobles was inefficient in many ways.
When people spoke, they agonized over grasping the hidden true intent behind the words, and it was all too common for a light remark to cause misunderstandings.
It was, of course, a result that had developed as civilized society advanced, but having lived his whole life seeing nothing but that, he had reason to feel sick of it.
In that sense, to Leon, Allen was a truly good friend.
He was the one friend with whom misunderstandings never arose through words, the only one around whom Leon could be honest.
At the very least, so long as Allen was by his side, it didn't seem likely that Leon would ever develop a total mistrust of humanity.
Thinking such thoughts, he refocused on the nobles beside him.
Once Leon treated them without any particular haughtiness, they too seemed to relax, their speech growing more fluent.
Listening to them, he couldn't be sure of their abilities as bureaucrats, but at least their skill as raconteurs was certain.
And within the imperial palace, witty talk was also a tool of power struggles.
Whether they would become mere dilettantes or the Emperor's secret eyes and ears remained to be seen, but for now, Leon raised his assessment of them.
It was then that they posed a question to Leon for the first time.
"Your Highness, may I ask what brings you to this match?"
- What was the angle here?
- Was there a political intent I could read into this?
- Ah, come to think of it, I didn't attend that last duel. They were just curious.
Catching himself instinctively trying to grasp the student's hidden intent, he sneered at himself and answered them kindly.
"The last duel was one that would end in seconds. This time, it's slated to be an entertaining show."
"Pardon?"
"Perfect timing—the performer is making his entrance. There's no need for me to explain; just watch for yourselves."