"...Ye... Yes, sir!"
Mickey suppressed his excitement and gave his assent. As he turned to face the gazes of his colleagues, he didn't feel any shame; he simply walked back down from the stage with an open and composed manner.
"Next," Fred said with a light smile, watching the young man depart.
The remaining few looked at each other. Mickey had been defeated in an instant; what could they possibly do even if they went up?
However, despite saying that, no one considered surrendering. Instead, they were quite expectant. They had undergone plenty of training that involved taking beatings. They had also heard Fred's evaluation of Mickey just now.
They wondered how Fred would evaluate them.
If they hadn't cared about Fred's opinion before because they didn't know his strength, now that his prowess was clear, they cared much more about what kind of evaluation they could earn from him. The previous doubts naturally vanished like smoke.
Setting everything else aside, at least in terms of combat, he was stronger than all of them. Judging by his performance just now, they didn't even have the confidence to win a gauntlet match against him.
They were trained for operations behind enemy lines—in other words, they were agents. The application of combat and firearms was even more demanding for them than for MS pilots. Combat, as the foundation of everything, was of paramount importance.
Thinking of this, the few members looked at Fred with a bit more respect. With those thoughts in mind, the remaining team members simultaneously turned their gazes toward the two captains.
"Captain Orphee, Captain Chiora, it's up to you two now."
Despite saying that, everyone's attention was mostly focused on Orphee. Chiora was a technical officer. While his fighting skills were not inferior to Mickey's, Orphee was the true Ace. If anyone among them could break Fred's winning streak, it would undoubtedly be Orphee.
The two captains looked at each other as the others spoke.
"Good luck," Chiora said, scratching his head with some helplessness and an embarrassed expression. He knew he definitely couldn't win.
Orphee rubbed his nose, his honest-looking face showing a hint of helplessness. He wasn't sure of his chances either. However, he couldn't say anything discouraging at a time like this. Whether Fred was the real deal or a fluke, he had to go up and see for himself. He was equally curious about exactly how strong Fred was.
Thinking this, Orphee nodded to the crowd. "You guys go first."
"Yes, sir!"
Following Orphee's words, the team members quickly regained their spirits. Another member stepped onto the stage with nervous strides.
"Please... please give me your guidance!"
"Mm, come at me," Fred nodded, still standing there like a grandmaster.
By now, no one present dared to look down on this masked man. Their turns on stage felt more like students receiving instruction from a teacher, filled with the restraint one feels before a superior.
As Fred finished speaking, the young man across from him did not initiate an attack. He looked at Fred with total alertness. Clearly, having seen Mickey's failure when attacking first, he planned to wait for a counter-opening.
Fred merely shrugged at this and then lunged forward.
It was the same result. After a blur of movement, the crowd only saw their comrade being knocked flying once again.
However, unlike before, their shock had gradually turned into acceptance. Since he was the Captain, it was normal for him to knock them back in one move, right? Normal... right?
Thinking this, everyone's gaze shifted back to Orphee.
"..."
Facing the team's eyes, Orphee felt a bit uncomfortable. He knew what his team members were thinking, but he also felt that he probably wouldn't win either. Orphee didn't see anything wrong with that feeling. If he couldn't win, he simply couldn't win.
Amidst the crowd's silence, Fred moved to the fallen man and very considerately pointed out his flaws. Rather than a captain, he felt more like a teacher—a gentle and refined one at that. It was a sharp contrast to the beast-like aura he projected during the fight. This discrepancy actually made the young men trust him more.
Fred's performance had truly conquered the group.
"How long do you think I can last?" Chiora asked Orphee with a bitter smile while watching the scene. Combat wasn't his specialty; there was a high possibility he'd be tossed off immediately.
"Hard to say. But it looks like he's very familiar with our moves," Orphee retracted his complex thoughts, stroking his clean-shaven chin as he pondered seriously. "At most, you'll probably last two or three moves."
"Huh?" Hearing this, Chiora watched the next member step up and nodded. "True. Did he have prior training? Does it look like he came prepared?"
If he came prepared just to establish dominance, then perhaps he wasn't actually that formidable.
"No," Orphee refuted this time. "He likely communicates frequently with people who use our style. You can't practice finding weaknesses in moves that quickly without years of experience. Furthermore, his own moves are very strange."
The man didn't look like he was cramming at the last minute. Those strange moves, which carried a hint of ancient rhythm, had long been integrated into his every gesture. Of course, the most important thing was his raw power, which was much stronger than theirs; that was the foundation. One might even think their Captain was some kind of grandmaster.
Orphee didn't know where Fred came from, but he was definitely not trained by the military.
"Is that so?" Chiora replied, sounding lost.
Orphee gave a wry smile. "I told you not to spend all day researching computers and such. You should train more in combat. Your eyesight is a bit poor."
"Well, that's what I have you for," Chiora didn't mind. He clapped Orphee on the shoulder and continued, "So, is there any way to counter him?"
"There is. If you use some unexpected moves, you might have a chance to drag it out for a few more exchanges," Orphee analyzed. "Of course, that's only a 'perhaps.' After all, no one can say for sure what other abilities our Captain has."
So he didn't think he could win.
Chiora felt a bit depressed. Since combat wasn't his forte, all he knew were standard military moves. It seemed he wouldn't be able to use that advice. Orphee, on the other hand, still had a chance.
"Alright..."
"Good luck, Orphee."
With that, Chiora patted his colleague's shoulder hard, as if trying to transfer his own strength to him.
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