Next up was Eddie.
“I’m glad this is so much like a sport!”
Eddie’s voice came over the comms, accompanied by a refreshingly bright smile.
Oh, he was definitely up to no good.
Eddie was the model student.
He’d always been the one keeping the rest of us idiots in check.
But every once in a while, Eddie would just... snap.
He was definitely plotting something.
“Hey, Eddie!”
“Oh, it’s my turn. Cutting the feed.”
What was he planning?
It was terrifying.
Eddie’s machine deployed.
He waved like a normal person, bowed like a normal person, and readied his sword like a normal person.
So why did I feel like I could hear a low, menacing rumble echoing through the air?
The opponent was a massive Armored Warrior.
Flashy...
It was wielding a Katana.
Eddie lunged.
Huh? He was slower than usual, and his movements were easy to read.
Eddie usually manipulated his killing intent specifically to mess with me.
He’d attack without a hint of malice, or use a surge of killing intent to sell a feint.
He was unpredictable—a truly nasty fighter.
Who was it?! Who corrupted my pure, innocent Eddie?! ...Wait, was it me?
Eddie’s strike was easily parried.
Perhaps thinking his opponent was nothing special, the enemy pilot launched a flurry of attacks.
Eddie blocked every single one with textbook precision.
Ugh... His whole demeanor screamed: As long as I’m focused on defense, you can’t even touch me.
Whenever the opponent’s assault left an opening, Eddie would deliver a weak, wobbly counterattack, almost as if he were trying to teach them a lesson.
Was this a demonstration? Was he really doing a demonstration right now?
Eddie was in the middle of an exhibition; his opponent was in the middle of a life-or-death match.
If I ever tried something like that, Katori-sensei would have screamed, “You’re slacking oooooooooff! Let me take overrrrrrrr!!” and made me spar until I was puking bile.
By exploiting the overwhelming difference in skill, Eddie was forcing his opponent into a pre-arranged sparring session. Those who knew what they were looking at would understand immediately.
And the opponent didn’t understand.
They didn't because they hadn't even reached the level where they could understand.
When the opponent grew impatient and lunged, Eddie tripped them with a foot sweep.
Wow... He was even correcting their form now. ...How cruel.
He repeated this cycle until the opponent grew exhausted and their mind turned to mush...
“That’s enough!!!”
The humiliated Muscle Daruma called an end to it.
I’m... I’m really, really sorry...
Our boy is putting you through hell.
“Rena! You are excommunicated!!! I am disappointed that you couldn’t even grasp the difference in your abilities!!!”
The Muscle Daruma’s face was beet red.
Oh, he was legitimately furious.
I see... So the seppuku thing was a bluff, but his actual punishment for failure was excommunication!
The opponent's machine came to an emergency halt.
A girl climbed out, wailing at the top of her lungs.
Eddie’s voice rang out over the external speakers.
“Sorry for embarrassing you. But... hey, you over there, Muscle Daruma! Our General might be grinning because he’s a tolerant guy, but you humiliated him just the same!”
Wait, why was Eddie the one getting angry...?
I grabbed the mic connected to the arena's speakers.
“Ah! I get it! Since the seppuku was a bluff, you intended to push Shar onto us from the very beginning, didn't you?!”
“You just noticed now?! You absolute Idiot Grand Duke!!!”
Waaaaah.
See? I keep telling you guys.
I’m not cut out for management!
The Muscle Daruma’s already crimson face turned a shade deeper.
“Silence! If you have a grievance, prove it with your strength!!!”
“I like that attitude. Fine, I’ll go one more—”
Before I could finish, someone was already standing in the Colosseum.
A middle-aged man with a brilliant, predatory smile.
It was Katori-sensei.
“Sensei, what are you doing there?!”
“Come on, let me in on the fun~”
“You don’t even have a pilot's license for a Humanoid Fighter!”
“I desire a duel of flesh and blood. You wouldn’t happen to be a coward, would you?”
The Muscle Daruma smirked.
“Gahahaha! Very well!!! As the master of these runts, I shall take responsibility personally!!!”
“Yeah, I’m Katori. I’m not really the brats’ master... I’m their chaperone.”
“Guhahaha! I am Zen! Come, let us do battle!!!”
Katori-sensei readied the Special Resin Sword he always used to beat the crap out of me.
That thing is ridiculously heavy.
On the other hand, a Wooden Sword would snap, and a blunted steel sword would break just as easily.
For warm-ups, he usually used a Wooden Sword—well, more like a random log—but once he was properly heated up, he always switched to that resin sword.
Even the perpetually suspicious Saria looked perplexed by this turn of events.
“I-Is this really acceptable?”
“It’s fine, really~. In fact, if I stop him now, I’ll be the one who dies later. Please, just try to exhaust the beast as much as possible~.”
“You damn Leo! Get to the dojo as soon as we’re done!!!”
How cruel!
Katori-sensei took his stance.
The Muscle Daruma brought out a massive, thick spear, brandishing it for all to see.
He started swinging it around with incredible force.
Whoa, that’s actually impressive!
“Are you certain you want to use such a puny sword?”
At least the Muscle Daruma was gentlemanly enough to ask.
“It’s fine, really. I’ll stick with this.”
In response, our resident beast acted as if his weapon were nothing more than a simple Wooden Sword.
That! That’s your problem right there!!!
You really need to work on that, old man!!!
“Here I come!!!”
The Muscle Daruma lunged with his spear.
It was a standard opening move.
But our gorilla was different.
He didn't care about the 'flow' of a match.
He shifted half a step to the side to dodge the thrust and instantly closed the gap.
“Foolish!!!”
The Muscle Daruma swung his log-sized spear in a massive horizontal sweep.
But the thing is... we spend every day pummeling each other with logs that thick.
Trying to block with the blade was pointless.
It was the kind of swing that would kill you no matter where it hit.
Sensei drove a single, heavy blow straight into the side of the sweep.
It was a strike delivered by a blade of ultra-compressed resin—some mysterious, lab-grade material.
It was harder and more flexible than any metal... and it was devastatingly heavy.
Yes, compared to that, a mere log-sized spear was...
Sensei’s strike snapped the spear clean in half.
“...Eh?”
The Muscle Daruma stood there with a look of pure idiocy on his face, snot practically dripping from his nose.
This wasn't some legendary feat where a master cuts through steel with a wooden sword.
He had simply shattered it through the sheer violence of the material.
The moment the spear snapped, the shockwave alone pulverized the stone floor tiles that the blade shouldn't have even touched.
“W-What on earth is that weapon?!”
I know, right? My thoughts exactly!!!
You are NOT supposed to block that thing.
If you try to take it head-on, you have to use every ounce of your body's flexibility to dissipate the shock, or you’ll just die on the spot!