The woman led him somewhere other than Evil's room, where he had been yesterday.

It was a lavish dining room. A crystal chandelier scattered light from the ceiling, and a long table covered with a snow-white cloth was laden with every sort of food.

A glistening whole roast, soup giving off curls of steam, colorful fruit and bread, and other dishes wafting fragrant aromas. What he had eaten in prison or in the room he had received after becoming a gladiator could not compare to any of it.

"There you are, our rising star!"

Evil sat at the far end of the long table. She spread her arms wide to welcome Yuto.

"Sit down. I had all of this prepared for you."

Evil spoke with a radiant smile. The welcome was hardly unexpected. Of all today's matches, Yuto's opening bout had drawn the most enthusiastic response. Evil owned the slaves and gladiators, as well as the colosseum itself.

A gladiator's life changed according to how much attention he attracted from the audience. Evil had decided Yuto was worth treating well.

"You can eat it all. If there's anything else you'd like, just ask."

Yuto bowed politely. Only one chair had been set out for him, at the opposite end of the table from Evil. He sat down and surveyed the food.

His mouth watered. Rather than restrain his appetite, Yuto reached straight for the food. There were utensils, including a knife and fork, but he made no particular effort to use them.

It wasn't because he didn't know how.

'I probably know how to eat all of this, too.'

Table manners were ingrained in his body as habits, requiring no conscious thought. Just as when he fought or held a sword, if he picked up the knife and fork, he would likely use them naturally, with proper etiquette.

Even sensing that, he chose not to take up the knife and fork properly. A slave thoroughly versed in table manners would be odd, after all. Yuto bit into bread held in his bare hand, then gripped the fork clumsily, stabbing it into dishes and carrying the food to his mouth. Evil's eyes gleamed at his ravenous eating.

"What a healthy appetite. You must have been starving. Oh, of course you were. All that exertion, and you had quite a long wait afterward, didn't you?"

"I've never eaten food like this before."

Yuto answered before he had finished chewing, deliberately letting bits of food fly from his mouth. He played the part of a loyal but ignorant slave.

"Ahaha! I suppose not. Don't just use your hands and fork. Try the knife, too. You seemed awfully good with a blade earlier."

"Thank you."

He showed no trace of swagger. Yuto lowered his head as though overwhelmed by the honor of this treatment. He took the knife in his other hand and awkwardly cut the meat. Evil snickered as he scraped the knife back and forth as though sawing wood.

"Keep eating while you listen. I was very, very pleased with your match today. And I wasn't the only one. You heard the crowd cheering, didn't you? My, to think a lower-league match could get that sort of response."

"I'm glad you were pleased, Mistress."

"Ahahaha! Very pleased. Honestly, I didn't expect you to do so well in your very first match. Your opponent came at you viciously, but you simply toyed with him. Keep fighting like you did today—no, do even better. Then you'll be able to eat food like this every time."

"Yes, I'll do my best."

Yuto answered through sauce-smeared lips.

"You saw the distinguished guests sitting beside me, didn't you? They're all nobles, just like me. They normally wouldn't bother watching the lower league, but the Mad Fox's last match was quite a sensation. Yet even they said your match was more entertaining than the Mad Fox's."

At the mention of the Mad Fox, Yuto briefly stopped reaching for food.

"One of them sent you a sponsorship gift. Guess what it is? A sword."

Evil grinned and raised a hand. A guard stationed at the dining room door approached Yuto and offered him the sword he carried. It was an ordinary weapon, hardly a masterpiece. Instead of accepting it at once, Yuto looked toward Evil. She smiled in satisfaction and nodded.

"You may take it. You can draw it, too."

"Are you certain I may?"

"Ahaha! Of course you may."

Even with a real sword in his hands, attacking Evil here was impossible. If he tried, she would immediately activate the choker and sever his neck. Yuto had no intention of attempting something that could never succeed. All he needed to show now was loyalty to Evil and gratitude for her generosity. He scrubbed the sauce caked on both hands onto his trouser legs, then respectfully accepted the sword.

"Oh, of course, you can't carry that sword around normally. You may only use it during matches."

"Yes, I understand. Earlier, Gedrick received his sword with the jailer's permission."

"Gedrick... Gedrick? Oh, the fellow you sliced up? Haha, he was quite a promising prospect in the lower league, too. Who would have thought he'd end up a cripple today?"

"I'm sorry for ruining your gladiator, Mistress."

"Ahaha! Why apologize for something like that? I can make as many gladiators as I like. And even broken ones have their uses. Fights between cripples are very popular, you know. They're more desperate and brutal."

Evil swirled her wineglass, her chin propped on one hand.

"So don't worry about ruining your opponents. Not too often, mind you, but you may even kill them occasionally."

"Is there a reason it should only be occasionally?"

"If you kill them every time, it stops being a special match. Death matches are popular events at the colosseum. That's why the Mad Fox is a bit of a problem. Evomon may be easier to obtain than human gladiators, but having it kill one every time is troublesome."

"The Mad Fox..."

Yuto set down the sword he had been holding respectfully and glanced at the food. Evil chuckled and nodded, and he resumed stuffing himself.

"Will I have to fight that Mad Fox someday, too?"

"Oh, no. You're far too valuable to waste like that. Perhaps if we manage to correct its behavior a little someday."

As she answered, Evil brought her glass to her lips. Beneath her long lashes, her eyes narrowed as she watched Yuto.

"Did you know? We found that Mad Fox in the same forest where you were lying unconscious. My subordinates and I subdued it ourselves while it was rampaging around, burning everything nearby."

"It was in the same forest as me?"

"Why are you so surprised? That forest has always teemed with wild beasts and Evomon. Though this particular Evomon had never been found there before, and we don't even know what species it is."

"Could it be... that I lost my memory because that Evomon attacked me?"

Yuto asked cautiously. Evil shrugged.

"How should I know? But earlier, the Mad Fox charged at the gladiators' bars, didn't it? It did occur to me that it might have something to do with you. Still, there's no way to know. Even if we asked, the Mad Fox is a mindless Evomon that can't so much as speak, and you say you've lost your memory."

"..."

"Why? Are you interested in the Mad Fox? I have no intention of arranging a match between you two, though. For now, I expect both of you to draw bigger crowds without any need for that. However well you fight, taking on an Evomon when you can't even wield 'aether' is suicide."

Evil set down her completely emptied glass.

"What I'm saying is, you needn't worry. Watching your match today, I saw a great deal of potential. I think you could quickly rack up consecutive wins in the lower league and advance to the middle league. Do well there, and you'll reach the upper league—and if you do well there, too, you can earn your freedom."

"Freedom..."

"Of course, the louder the audience cheers, the more you'll be able to enjoy here. Someday, meals like this will be an everyday thing. You could have a bigger, better room, too. So fight hard, and give it some thought. Honestly, you might be better off fighting here and being treated well than going 'outside,' you know?"

Watching Yuto's expression change, Evil smiled and rose.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. You can't relax over a meal with someone watching, can you? If there's anything else you'd like to eat, just tell that fellow standing behind you."

The instant she said this, Yuto scrambled awkwardly to his feet and bowed deeply. Evil laughed and clapped her hands.

"Relax and enjoy your food. Relax."

Evil left the dining room. Only after the door closed behind her did Yuto sit down again. Now only he and a few guards remained, and the sword he had received lay beside him. Yet he resumed eating without so much as glancing at it.

'What a sly snake.'

Yuto muttered inwardly as he chewed. Evil knew how to skillfully combine the carrot and the stick. In prison, violence and deprivation broke their spirits; in the colosseum, rewards based on ability tamed them. All the while, she frequently dangled freedom before them as bait, even as she fed them the comforts of the colosseum and planted a different desire.

She made slaves abandon freedom of their own accord and choose to stay in the colosseum. It was a simple but clever method of training. A slave already tamed would turn away from distant, uncertain freedom toward pleasures immediately within reach. Even if they genuinely longed for freedom at first, their resolve would crumble as they grew accustomed to the crowd's cheers and a comfortable life. At some point, even their will to escape might begin to fade.

'Not me.'

Yuto swallowed his food as he thought. This treatment was nothing more than bait. Even if tomorrow brought tastier food, even if someday he lived in a better room, he would still be no different from an animal in a cage as long as he remained here.

Those looking down from above taming those below. Yuto instinctively loathed it. Why did he hate it so fiercely? Why did it repel him so much? He couldn't understand the reason.

'I... know how to wield a sword. I know table manners. I know how those looking down from above think.'

Despite his empty memory, so much was engraved in his body. The discrepancy confused him, but he kept putting food into his mouth. Ravenously, playing the faithful slave while cramming as much food into his stomach as possible.

Evil might have left the dining room, but several of her eyes remained.

'The Mad Fox...'

The image of that little Evomon, blindfolded and bound in chains, kept haunting his mind.

'She said it was found in the same forest as me.'

Was it a coincidence?

No. It couldn't be.

He could remember neither its name nor any time they had spent together—but Yuto was certain he knew that fox.

* * *

Several days passed after Yuto became a lower-league gladiator. During that time, he fought two more matches, each drawing cheers from the audience just as his first had.

He could have ended both matches quickly, but deliberately chose not to. A match that ended too soon would leave the audience disappointed. So Yuto intentionally staged 'entertaining matches.'

Though he entered with a sword, he didn't use it from the outset. Instead, he ostentatiously planted it in the ground and stepped away, allowing his opponent to take it. At other times, he left the sword sheathed and swung it like a club to beat his opponent.

The crowd cheered all the louder at his practiced showmanship. More nobles occupied the VIP seats at his second match than at his first, and even more came for his third.

After every match, Evil summoned Yuto and treated him to a meal. On the day his second match ended, he received a helmet, which she said was a sponsorship gift from a noble. After his third, he received leather armor.

Other sponsorship gifts furnished his room. First, his bed was replaced with a larger, softer one. Then came a new chair and desk, followed by paper, pens, and other things to ease the tedious hours in his room. Naturally, the meals delivered there changed as well.

"I'm so fucking jealous."

Gaon's voice came from beyond the wall. At each of the three daily meals, he pressed himself against the little crack in the wall, eating his food with the aroma drifting from Yuto's room as his only accompaniment.

"If you're jealous, try fighting better."

"You think I lose because I want to?"

Gaon and Rugil had lost their last matches. Fortunately, their injuries were minor enough not to affect their next bouts, but both still had more losses than wins. For bottom-ranked fighters in the lower league like them, the possibility of being dragged into a death match at any moment was a source of terrible fear.

"Instead of lounging around your room, at least practice. Want me to teach you a few things?"

"Well, look at you. How exactly would you teach us?"

"I'll bring it up the next time I dine with Mistress. She'd be pleased to have someone besides me putting on entertaining fights in the lower league."

"Are you serious?"

Rugil's startled voice came from the opposite wall.

"Of course I'm serious."

Yuto was still playing the part of Evil's loyal slave and gladiator, but he hadn't said that merely to win her favor. After several days of trading idle chatter through the walls, he had grown fairly close to Gaon and Rugil. If they were dragged into a death match and killed—he didn't think he would feel easy about it.

"Ahem... Well, if you're offering, I suppose I'll learn."

"Thank..."

Just as Rugil began to answer, heavy footsteps approached. The jailer didn't normally make his rounds at this hour, and these sudden footsteps sounded terribly urgent.

"You—you lot, get ready to leave right now!"

The voice was as urgent as the footsteps. Tilting his head, Yuto approached the door. Lower-league gladiators were ordinarily forbidden to question the jailer, but Yuto already enjoyed a variety of special privileges here.

"What's going on?"

"A-an important guest has arrived! You've got ten minutes—no, five! Get ready! Hurry!"

The jailer stammered out the order.

'An important guest?'

It was already well past noon, and no lower-league matches were scheduled today. Puzzled, Yuto stepped back from the door.

'Whoever it is... they must rank far above the nobles who usually visit.'

Perhaps today would bring a major opportunity.