24. Last Man Standing
24. Last Man Standing
Allen himself didn't know this, but Leon classified Allen's states into three broad categories.
Good Allen Mode
Serious Allen Mode
Crazy Allen Mode
Good Allen was basically polite, kind, and rarely crossed the line.
He did pull the occasional stunt in the middle of a broadcast, sure, but those stayed at a level you could dismiss as him just failing to contain his overflowing playfulness.
You could say Allen spent most of his time in this state.
Serious Allen was mainly seen when he entered combat or a mission.
Prime examples were sparring with knights in the imperial palace, guarding Leon, or needing to look impressive in front of a junior.
In those moments, unlike Good Allen, he moved with maximum efficiency and zero pranks.
And his humor became a little more cynical.
It was a little chilling then, but that was just something you could chalk up to him separating work from play.
The problem was the last one, Crazy Allen Mode.
Even Leon couldn't predict when Allen in this state would pop out.
To explain it using the patterns Leon had observed and Allen's usual words:
Borrowing Allen's own phrasing, it was a state where, if someone acted like a prick toward me for no reason, I gave them a reason.
Allen in this state was uncontrollable and unpredictable.
This was evident in the incident on Pia's fifteenth birthday, when he planted a noble scion who had been rude to him while he stood beside her in the palace garden, and in the ballpoint-pen magic incident at the entrance ceremony.
But even that Allen had one rule.
The doctrine of the Cult of Rictus.
Following the teachings of the God of Play and Entertainment, Crazy Allen would stage an entire spectacle and then completely forgive his opponent.
Of course, there was no way the opponent had consented to the spectacle, so to anyone watching it just looked like teabagging.
Hence the nickname that stuck to Allen: "Madman of the Price Family."
He was definitely dispensing justice, but it was so flashy and so full of crazy-bastard energy that the nickname practically coined itself.
And as it happened, this duel with the Disciplinary Committee fit the conditions for Crazy Allen Mode perfectly.
Leon focused on Allen's duel, looking forward to what kind of spectacle he'd show this time.
Thinking nothing restored his eroding faith in humanity quite like a friend's work.
*
The arena had been built to oversee duels between students.
Inside it, the announcer's booming call rang out.
[Allow me to introduce today's competitors. First, the Blue Team, the Disciplinary Committee, will enter!]
Amid the students' cheers, the first-year Disciplinary Committee cadets entered the central arena.
You might wonder why students would cheer for the Disciplinary Committee, but the Disciplinary Committee at Hetairo Academy wasn't just an organization that managed public morals.
They handled overall public order, safety, and lifesaving on Hetairo Island. In a sense, they were the island's police and firefighters rolled into one.
Their arrest rate was fairly excellent, and because they threw themselves into danger without hesitation whenever a problem arose, the Disciplinary Committee's image ranked quite favorably.
So it was only natural that the first-years who'd joined the Disciplinary Committee out of admiration for that image didn't think highly of my behavior.
Our Disciplinary Committee seniors sacrifice themselves every single day to protect this island, and you're portraying them as incompetent?! Unforgivable!
That must've been roughly what they were thinking.
I could understand that.
If a movie portraying soldiers as garbage had aired back home while I was on the battlefield...
Even if my comrades had told me to let it slide, I wouldn't have been able to.
So I fully understood their protest itself.
The reason I'd kicked into madman mode for the first time in a while, then, was because those bastards had told me to "take down" my work.
If they'd asked me to give them an image cleanup in a later episode or something, I would've gladly agreed.
But they took one scene, got offended, and told me to take down the broadcast?
I was no saint who'd just sit still for snowflakes like that.
Since there was no telling what sort of professional whiners might pop up in the future, I meant to run riot spectacularly right here and now.
[Next, the Red Team. Allen Price, enter!]
What greeted me as I emerged from the waiting room was a reception mixing cheers and jeers at roughly a two-to-eight ratio.
The cheers were one thing, but as for why there were jeers—well, that was because of my nickname and image.
The expression "Madman of the Price Family" itself wasn't terribly negative.
But because the word "madman" carried a bad image on its own, people who'd heard the nickname before meeting me often assumed I was some kind of thug.
My track record around the academy was a problem, too.
After all, within Hetairo Academy, Allen Price was a singular eccentric who'd performed ballpoint-pen magic at the entrance ceremony and, within a month of enrolling, had gotten himself hauled off by the Disciplinary Committee for stealing material from the faculty office.
The Hero Department students who saw me often had cleared up the misunderstanding, but on a campus this large, you didn't need to ask whether more people had heard about me than had seen me.
And this time the guy came out to duel the Disciplinary Committee?
In a situation like that, there was no way I'd come off looking good.
Well, whatever my reputation was with others, I had business with the Disciplinary Committee, so I decided not to care.
I looked across the arena at the faces standing stiffly on the other side.
Seven first-years and one second-year.
I cocked my head, then realized something and glared toward where the Disciplinary Committee chair would be.
- Hey. You said it was first-year cadets stepping out of line.
- My apologies. I'll make it up to you later.
The Disciplinary Committee Head dipped his head in reply to my stare.
Well, if the quest reward's getting extra sweetened, I'll let it slide this once.
Anyway, a second-year joining in wouldn't affect my show.
I examined the Disciplinary Committee members' weapons and briefly ran the numbers.
And the conclusion I drew.
'Today, it's professional wrestling.'
After all, the magical-girl show they were protesting had a fair amount of professional wrestling itself, didn't it?
So this was a golden opportunity to spread the excellence of professional wrestling to them.
Big Evil Wolf went awooo!
In my head only.
Before the match started, the referee confirmed both sides' conditions.
First, if the Disciplinary Committee won, Magical Girl Magical Mari would be subject to the Disciplinary Committee's censorship and, depending on the circumstances, could face a broadcast suspension.
Conversely, if I won, I would receive a proper apology from the Disciplinary Committee members and a written pledge that they would not interfere with future broadcasts.
After confirming the conditions, the referee created distance.
"Both sides ready?"
The Disciplinary Committee nodded.
In contrast, I asked the referee for a brief time-out.
Before the show began, I needed to shift public opinion a little.
'I'll show you Big Wolf's promotion skills, the ones that split the crowd right down the middle against King Lion.'
I first flashed a little showmanship by waving both arms at the audience, then stepped in front of the Disciplinary Committee.
Up to that point, the crowd's reaction was lukewarm.
But right after that, I jabbed a finger at the Disciplinary Committee, then turned my fist upside down and thrust my thumb downward.
The so-called thumbs-down gesture.
In this world, it was the signature pose Big Evil Wolf used to insult his opponent.
Some of the spectators who knew the meaning roared at my performance.
The Disciplinary Committee members, maybe because they watched Wrestle Kingdom too, all made faces like they'd bitten into shit.
The way the others were holding back a member who looked ready to charge out right then showed the provocation had landed perfectly.
[Wow! Allen Price, seizing control of the arena's atmosphere the moment he enters! Can we actually look forward to this duel? There were so many lines I couldn't use in the last duel, after all!]
Come to think of it, this was the same announcer from my duel with Ailan—no, Ailey.
He must've felt pretty let down back then.
As an apology for the last duel, and a gesture that said he could look forward to this one, I gave him a thumbs up and then thumped my chest twice.
That was King Lion's signature.
[Excuse me? Are you talking to me?]
Nod.
[Oh! What magnificent showmanship! Everyone! You may indeed look forward to today! It's been a while since the academy opened this year that we've had such an interesting fight on our hands!]
Thanks to the announcer's commentary, the ratio of cheers to jeers directed at me shifted to an even, slightly friendlier split.
The atmosphere was ripe; it was time to start the match.
Once the Disciplinary Committee and I signaled we were ready, the referee lowered the flag.
"Begin!"
The Disciplinary Committee member the others had just been holding back burst out first.
His weapon was a greatsword.
Once the distance closed, he swung the greatsword upward.
'Impatient.'
A greatsword had long reach and considerable power.
But for anyone short of a real expert, a greatsword inevitably created a large opening immediately after a single attack.
So, contrary to its manly image, the greatsword wasn't a weapon you used while charging—the standard was to poke and prod while keeping a certain distance, then finish things at the decisive moment.
If you meant to charge while wielding a greatsword, unless you were a sword monster who could swing a greatsword as light as a dagger, it was a stupid move.
And the Disciplinary Committee member who'd rushed at me was a stupid bastard running on hot blood.
Thunk!
Just punching the flat of the greatsword made the blade's path veer past my body.
I slipped inside his guard while he was frozen in the raised-sword posture and drove my forearm into the back of his neck.
[A lariat from Allen! Gareth has dropped his greatsword!]
Oh, this announcer guy. Seems he watches a bit of wrestling himself.
Now this was worth fighting for.
In that moment, the Disciplinary Committee member called Gareth got back to his feet.
His fighting spirit, trying not to show me his back even as he stood up, was commendable—but at least right now, it was the wrong answer.
Look. Didn't that just provide the perfect stepping stone?
I didn't miss the opening and rushed at him.
Without stopping, I ran up, planted my foot on his right knee, and buried a knee kick into his temple.
[That's a Shining Wizard! I never dreamed there'd be a student who could pull that off in a real fight!]
The practicality of professional wrestling?
You just make it work, somehow.
That single blow rolled Gareth's eyes back and eliminated him from the match.
I turned my back on the Disciplinary Committee, threw my arms up in a Y toward the stands, and the crowd roared.
"Allen! Allen!"
"You little shit..."
Even on a noisy stage, my hearing caught the Disciplinary Committee member's mutter.
At the same moment, he fired a volley of crossbow bolts at the back of my head.
"Boooo!"
You dare attack me during a promo to the audience?
You're a heel from now on.
Without even looking, I dodged the bolts with a tumble, then charged the one who'd fired the crossbow.
Tacking on a finger-jab in his direction before my sprint, just to tell him I was coming, was a bonus.