Hearing Patchouli's brilliant suggestion, everyone's collective gaze instantly locked onto Sakuya Izayoi.
In their minds, they began to picture the traditionally immaculate, perfect and elegant Head Maid dressed entirely in a stark, sharply tailored white suit. Flandre, meanwhile, was already imagining how incredibly cool it would look to have Hong Meiling and Sakuya Izayoi standing directly behind her as personal bodyguards—one clad in absolute black and the other in brilliant white.
Remilia nodded her head repeatedly in firm agreement. "Patchy, that is a truly wonderful idea! Sakuya, don't overthink it or hesitate. Just go try on a completely different style for once!"
Seeing that even her respected Eldest Mistress had explicitly given the order, Sakuya Izayoi could only allow herself to be enthusiastically pulled into the high-end suit shop. A few minutes later, she stepped out of the changing room clad in a sleek, pure white tailored suit.
"Wow!" everyone exclaimed in unison, their eyes lighting up at the striking transformation.
"It is alright, I suppose," Sakuya Izayoi murmured expressionlessly. She stood poised before the full-length mirror, evaluating her perfect and elegant reflection. Though her face remained entirely calm, the corners of her mouth secretly twitched upward by exactly four pixels in quiet satisfaction.
After finalizing their purchases and changing back into their standard gear, the group walked out of the luxury mall together. By then, the bright Kazimierz sun indicated it was nearly noon.
After a brief group discussion, they decided to head back to the hotel first to drop off their heavy shopping bags, then locate a nice restaurant near the grand arena to eat lunch before heading inside to watch the tournament match. Of course, another tactical reason for this route was that they had intentionally been away for quite some time; if the Kazimierz authorities were planning to illegally search their rooms, the agents should have thoroughly finished their sweep by now.
Patchouli had placed a few inconspicuous, magically attuned items around the suite that wouldn't be easily discovered by tech or Originium sensors, specifically to monitor the physical environment. Going back now was the perfect time to check if anyone had actually crossed the threshold to investigate.
The very second they returned to the suite, both Patchouli and Sakuya Izayoi shared a brief, identical smirk. Both had instantly discovered the microscopic disturbances proving that someone had indeed entered their private rooms. However, no one openly spoke of the intrusion. They simply casually packed away their new clothes and left the building together once more.
It wasn't until they were safely seated inside a lively local restaurant that Patchouli finally brought up the matter in a low, amused voice.
"Someone actually took the liberty of sneaking into our private rooms while we were out. That is just so incredibly immoral."
Flandre's eyes widened in genuine shock upon hearing this. In her pure mind, sneaking into a lady's private bedroom was simply going way too far! If she had actively done something wrong, it would be one thing, but she hadn't done anything bad at all during their stay, so she felt incredibly wronged by the state's suspicion.
"Exactly, exactly! Whoever they are, they are just so mean!"
Aside from the indignant Flandre, everyone else at the table understood perfectly well what the corporate search implied, but they tacitly chose to remain silent. After all, if Flandre were to learn the messy political details behind the Ingra Family's sudden demise, the energetic child would likely start an unnecessary ruckus right before the games.
Fortunately, distracting Flandre was an incredibly simple task. Sakuya Izayoi subtly and smoothly slid a beautifully decorated dessert plate directly in front of her, and the little girl immediately forgot all about the room intruders, focusing her entire being onto her food. Seeing this seamless transition, everyone shared a silent, knowing smile.
After finishing a hearty lunch, the group arrived at the grand sports arena. Once they had their premium tickets checked at the gate and entered the stadium, the security confirmation quickly reached the monitoring desk of the Commercial Federation.
"Could it truly... really not be them?"
Upon receiving the live report that Remilia's group had casually entered the arena to watch the afternoon match, the intelligence officer monitoring their file muttered to himself in deep, agonizing doubt. In the corporate view of the Federation, anyone would surely display some form of unusual, paranoid behavior after committing a brutal mass murder of an entire noble clan. Yet, these foreign tourists acted completely like they were just here for a standard, carefree holiday.
Not only was there a total lack of abnormal behavior throughout the day, but they also seemed to be genuinely enjoying the local amenities. This concrete psychological profiling caused the state's already slim suspicion against them to drop even further into absolute zero. If it weren't for the lingering fact that Olmer Ingra had explicitly died at the hands of Hong Meiling on the street, and that the private Ingra gathering last night was specifically called to seek bloody revenge against them, their names would have been wiped from the suspect list hours ago.
Down on the massive field below, the grand match soon began. Flandre cheerfully waved a small commemorative flag as she looked down at the sprawling arena from their high-tier seats. The booming voice of the stadium announcer soon echoed across the stands.
The competing teams for the afternoon slot were the Pinus Sylvestris facing off against the Bloodboil, and the official match format was announced as Capture the Flag.
Capture the Flag was drastically different from a standard, one-on-one Knight Tournament duel; it was a high-stakes team competition where several distinct knights had to tightly coordinate their physical actions across a simulated battlefield. This setup tested not only the raw, individual combat abilities of the participating knights but also the tactical intelligence and macro-management level of their team commander.
Flandre tilted her head in curiosity upon hearing the names of the teams; she seemed to possess a vague, distinct impression of both factions from her deeper memories. Both sides soon marched onto the sandy field under a roaring crowd.
The moment her eyes caught the primary members of the Pinus Sylvestris, Flandre's eyes lit up as she immediately remembered their identity.
Although the overall combat strength of this specific underground knight order was treated as a bit of a statistical joke within the mechanics of the original mobile game, their visual character art had been exceptionally nice. Especially their brave leader, Sona; Flandre's lingering memories held a deep fondness for this fiery little squirrel that was no less than her appreciation for Shaw.
And one hilarious point that remained entirely vivid in Flandre's memory about Sona was that when Victoria's game-breaking, high-DPS Vanguard-Healer, Reed the Flame Shadow, was eventually released, Sona's proud title of 'Flametail' was nearly completely usurped by her among the player base's daily terminology...
"Huh? Why is the official leader of that Pinus Sylvestris team so short?" Hong Meiling asked, squinting down at the field in confusion. "She looks practically like a child standing among those giants."
"She is a Zalalak," Flandre explained smoothly, identifying Sona's specific Terran race for her bodyguard.
"Wait, are squirrels considered mice here?" Hong Meiling asked, looking thoroughly shocked by the biological grouping.
"Is that not okay?" Flandre asked, tilting her head.
"Well, scientifically speaking, squirrels and mice are both categorized under the order Rodentia, so claiming they are fundamentally the same isn't entirely wrong... It just feels a bit forced in practice," Patchouli Knowledge commented from the side. She adjusted her glasses, complaining about the local taxonomy. "Can't these Terra historians be more specific with their definitions? Clearly, the genetic and physical relationship between the Lupo, Perro, and Rebbah races isn't any more distant than the relationship between squirrels and mice, yet they are strictly categorized into three entirely different families."
"Perhaps it boils down to general population size and geopolitical influence?" Patchouli continued her own analysis, having been deeply researching Terran racial records lately and developing quite a few academic opinions on how the locals categorized themselves.
"Lupo and Perro are globally recognized as major, influential races with established territories. While Zalalaks are technically found everywhere across the continent, their total concentrated numbers aren't massive, and they have never formed any centralized, effective political power or sovereign nation. That might be the primary reason why the distinct species within their genus aren't separated by historians."
She took a sip of her drink, her eyes reflective. "Take the Sarkaz, for example. They are clearly divided internally into over a dozen vastly different ancient sub-races, yet the outside world lazily uses the unified, sweeping term 'Sarkaz' for all of them. Among the Sarkaz themselves, they maintain deep internal distinctions, but to the outside world, they also present a unified front under that name. It almost feels as if the other combined races of Terra and the ancient Sarkaz were once two massive, opposing camps during a forgotten era. And after the Terran races ultimately won the war, they unified all of their disparate opponents under the singular label of 'Sarkaz'."
But after meticulously investigating the deep history and linguistics of the continent, Patchouli had found that 'Sarkaz' wasn't historically a derogatory slur invented by enemies. This bizarre contradiction left the academically rigorous librarian feeling quite perplexed.
"Forget it, let us focus on watching the tournament match first. We can easily discuss these historical nuances when we return to our rooms."
Just then, a massive, thunderous burst of cheering erupted from the stadium seats, and the group stopped their chatter to look down at the grand field. By now, both knight factions had begun executing their first rapid wave of probing attacks.
Although the heavily armored knights on both sides wore massive plates of metal and were not mounted on beasts, their raw running speed across the sand was no slower than that of a galloping warhorse.
"These Kuranta people really are both the rider and the horse combined into one!" Hong Meiling couldn't help but comment in awe as she watched two powerful Kuranta knights clash fiercely with heavy lances and immediately pull back to reset their lines.
"Don't you find the display incredibly interesting? This is the unique charm of Terra," Remilia murmured, her crimson eyes sparkling with amusement. Even though the actual combat prowess and tactical scale below seemed incredibly weak and primitive compared to her own supernatural standards, the physical fitness of these ordinary mortals appeared several times stronger than that of the average humans back on the Earth.
Take these two competing knights, for instance; their heavy combat gear looked to weigh well over fifty pounds, yet they could sprint like the wind across loose sand while wearing such encumbering armor without showing a single hint of exhaustion.