Peddler in Another World: I Can Go Back to My World Whenever I Want! Volume 9 by Hiiro Shimotsuki

Author:Hiiro Shimotsuki [SHIMOTSUKI, HIIRO]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: J-Novel Club
Published: 2024-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen: The Tournament, Part Two

“Since you and I have now gotten to know each other, why don’t you come and watch our teams do battle from my box? I have alcohol there that’s much better than anything you can get in this lounge,” Mr. Zatt suggested. I accepted and followed him to his box with Aina and Suama in tow.

At first glance, his offer might have seemed generous, but I had a hunch he was more interested in making sure I didn’t try to slip away and take the kiriko glass with me if my team ended up losing. After all, the mean-looking, heavily armed guards blocking the entrance to his box probably weren’t standing there for no reason, and now that I thought about it, they were pretty clearly glaring at me. Mr. Zatt took a seat on the right side of the sofa, while the girls and I sat down on the left, leaving the middle seat between us empty. As before, Suama had perched herself on Aina’s lap.

“Both teams, enter the arena!” boomed the announcer, his voice echoing all around the colosseum. Seconds later, a team of high cat-sìths slunk into the arena.

“I like high cat-sìths. My private army is composed exclusively of them,” Mr. Zatt said, as if boasting about a private art collection.

All of the high cat-sìths were clad in matching armor and wielded similar-looking weapons, which seemed to make the crowd go even crazier. My team was next into the arena, with Valeria front and center lugging Mr. Gugui’s absurdly huge battle hammer, Mountain Crusher, around on her shoulder, followed by Celes and Dramom, sporting black and white wings respectively. The crowd was suddenly abuzz with astonished murmurs at the sight of them.

“L-Look! Wingedfolk!” one spectator exclaimed.

“Are they real?”

“Who would’ve guessed that a day would come where I would lay eyes on genuine wingedfolk?”

“I never thought I’d get to see real wingedfolk in my lifetime.”

The commotion soon swelled into the loudest cheering of the day—no, of the entire tournament so far. Oh, yeah, that’s right. Nesca once told me that while they weren’t quite as elusive as fairies, wingedfolk were still one of the rarest races in all of Ruffaltio. Judging by the crowd’s reaction, it seemed Nesca hadn’t been wrong. Of course, Celes and Dramom weren’t actually wingedfolk, but no one needed to know that little detail.

“Wh-What? Wingedfolk?” Mr. Zatt gasped beside me. “M-Mr. Amata! You have wingedfolk in your private army?” he said excitedly.

“I do. What of it?”

Mr. Zatt clenched his teeth in frustration. “If I’d known that, I would’ve asked him to wager his private army instead of the glass,” he muttered under his breath.

It seemed the sight of Celes and Dramom with wings on their backs had set the touch paper of his greed alight, and looking around, the same was probably true for the other merchants in attendance, if the way they were pointing at them from their box seats was anything to go by.

“This bout pits Mr. Zatt’s ‘Ferocious Tigers’ against Mr.

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