Three Two One

The pale winter sun crept over the stone valleys.

Zale walked down the narrow alleyway, his steps cautious as he pulled open the heavy underground hatch. He peered into the dim depths of the cellar.

They should be long gone by now, right? The bard was doubting his own doubts.

The storage space was completely empty.

Figures, Zale thought, a bitter, disappointed sigh escaping his lips.

Why did I expect anything different from-

"Up for some breakfast?" a crisp, high-pitched voice came from directly behind him.

Zale flinched, spinning around.

Lady Toshio stood there in his pristine noble gown, completely unbothered by the freezing morning air.

"There is a tavern cafe just around the corner. I hear their eggs are made exceptionally well."

The bard’s jaw dropped. He looked around, his hand instinctively reaching for his belt.

"Where... where is the rest of your party? They are nowhere to be seen. You lost the wager, Fake Hero Killer. What are you still doing in this town?"

Toshio offered a faint, chilling smile, his monocular gleaming.

"Come now. Why don't we see for ourselves who won and who lost?"

With no other option, the shocked musician followed the elegant noblewoman out of the basement hideout. They walked through the awakening streets until they arrived at the bustling central plaza.

A massive, roaring crowd had already assembled near the outdoor pavilion, where the Perfect Prince, Suzuki Sawada, was casually enjoying an open-air lunch, surrounded by dozens of adoring townspeople and heavily armed knights.

Toshio and Zale took a seat at a small, detached cafe table located far back from the main gathering, maintaining a clear line of sight to the scene.

Zale’s fingers tapped anxiously against the wooden table.

"Why have you brought us this close to him? Tell me. He is not someone you can figure out overnight." Zale was getting anxious.

Toshio didn't look at him. He simply maintained his aristocratic smile.

"Have some patience, and some eggs." Toshio slid a plate full of breakfast forward.

Zale watched the distant pavilion while cutting into a plate of roasted meat.

Suddenly, the Perfect Prince slightly flinched. It was barely noticeable, but both of them noticed.

The boy from Japan suddenly set his fork down, his flawless smile vanishing as he stood up from his royal table. His dark blue high school uniform fluttered as he began marching directly toward the outer ring of the plaza.

Wait, why is he coming straight towards us?! Zale was panicking.

His heart hammered against his ribs. His breathing turned shallow as the smartest Hero on the continent closed the distance, his eyes cold and focused.

He knows, the bard thought frantically. We are dead!

The Prince reached the table immediately left to theirs.

But right before Suzuki could step closer, a middle-aged man sitting directly behind Toshio’s chair abruptly stood up, sweating heavily as he tried to slip away into the crowd.

Suzuki delivered a silent hand signal. Instantly, four elite knights ran forward, tackling the fleeing man face-first onto the cobblestones.

The Perfect Prince walked right past the bard and the noble lady, an intense, quiet fury burning in his eyes.

"Search his rear coat pocket," Suzuki commanded coldly.

The citizen struggled wildly, but the knights forcefully ripped open his heavy winter lining.

Out tumbled a dense, obsidian sphere pulsating with unstable, crimson light. A forbidden magical device from great war era. It carried enough raw power to vaporize every single living soul within the central plaza, including the Hero himself.

The crowd erupted into panicked screams as the guards securely dragged the assassin away.

Suzuki Sawada turned back to his populace, instantly restoring his reassuring smile as he waved to calm the masses. The plaza erupted into thunderous cheers for their savior.

"That's why you are our leader!" An old lady shouted.

Zale sat frozen, his fork dropping from his trembling hand. He looked at the spot where the bomb had been hidden.

"If... if the Perfect Prince hadn't intervened at that exact moment... we would have been the very first to perish in the blast. We would have been dead?!"

"Who knows, maybe we did die?" Toshio joked.

Toshio turned his head, his gaze staring dead into the bard’s eyes. For a single millisecond, the illusion around the salaryman flickered.

Zale didn't see the busty noblewoman. No, he saw the terrifying shape of a cold Japanese businessman sitting perfectly straight in a modern corporate suit, his eyes completely devoid of fear.

What was that?! Is that his real form? Zale was scared, very scared.

"Also, that man with the bomb? He is a criminal, don't worry about him," Toshio spoke, his voice entirely devoid of warmth.

"B-but, why would he plan to blow all of this? Why this close to us? Why didn't he sit near the Perfect Prince if he wanted to kill him?"

Zale was desperately trying to make sense of the situation.

"Because I hired him to kill us, why else?" Toshio took a hearty bite of the egg with his fork.

Beads of cold sweat broke out across Zale’s forehead. His skin crawled with intense goosebumps as the sheer madness of the statement settled into his bones.

Toshio gracefully wiped his lips with a linen napkin, cleaning his hands with clinical precision.

"But we are alive, aren't we? And because of that, I know everything I needed to know now."

Toshio leaned back, his eyes catching the winter light.

"Want to know his secret skill that no one knows?"

Zale finally realized that in front of him was a person who had truly earned the title of Hero Killer.

The most terrifying person in the plaza wasn't the fanatic willing to blow up the crowd. It was the man who didn't mind being blown to pieces just to win a bet.