"Hmph, forget it. Arguing fashion with some noblewoman whose taste is stuck in the age of kings is pointless." Feyn Senior turned away, arms crossed.

"Hmph, indeed. Discussing 'innocent and cute' outfits with a seventeen-year-old whose bust size screams twenty-seven is just a waste of time." Sulia sneered coldly.

Sitting between them, I felt immense pressure. On my left and right, both sisters had heavy bosoms... Couldn’t they just get along?

"Tianlin Feiyan!" Sulia pointed at Feyn Senior. "Heard you’re overestimating yourself, entering tomorrow’s match. I’ll show you the true abyss and terror of this Undercity. By then, even your arrogant self will willingly grovel at my feet—AHAHAHAHA!"

Hearing such an insult and provocation, Feyn Senior’s face flushed. "One day, I’ll return your words exactly as they are!"

"Oh ho! What’s this? Our holy knight young lady is blushing? AHAHAHAHAHA! Were you fantasizing just now?" Sulia’s sharp gaze swept over Feyn Senior.

"Do you think I’m Loyning? I can’t fantasize about such things." Feyn Senior, blushing, hurriedly denied.

"Huh?" Loyning, swaying while commentating nearby, spun around and jumped anxiously. "President! Even you’re saying this about me! Sob sob... We were all fickle maidens who descended to the Undercity..."

"Enough! Whether you were fantasizing or not, tomorrow I’ll discipline you properly in reality!" Sulia pulled out a whip, waving its handle before the senior’s face.

"Do you feel uneasy without low-class words? And take that ugly thing away from me!" the senior calmly retorted.

"What? Don’t you like this?" Sulia smiled faintly, her sharp gaze seeming to pierce through the senior.

"Um... Ladies," Bessdaitiel interrupted. "Per our groupings, both are seeded players—split between upper and lower brackets. You won’t meet tomorrow. Only if both advance smoothly will you face off in the day-after-tomorrow’s finals."

"Is that so? Hmph. I’ll let you live one more day." Sulia said.

"Hmph. So you keep your undefeated title one more day. But only one day!" Fayin retorted.

"Well, how about this!" Sulia suddenly locked eyes with me, sending a chill of foreboding through me. She snatched Bessdaitiel’s schedule. "Tomorrow’s semifinals—we compete to see who defeats their opponent fastest! How about it? If you can’t even reach the semis, just roll back to the surface and marry off as a proper young lady!"

"May I ask—what’s the point of such a contest?" Fayin countered.

"True. Since you ask, let’s bet! Whoever wins their semifinal faster earns Princess Kuroti’s two-hour evening massage. If I win, the little princess wears a bunny girl outfit while massaging me—prepping for the finals! Dare you bet?" Sulia challenged.

"Your tacky proposal makes me loathe to accept. But if I refuse now, you’ll surely mock me for fear, won’t you?"

"Hehe. Miss Fayin, you truly are sharp as ice and clever as snow."

"Fine. I accept your bet." Feyn Senior said calmly.

"Good! Settled!" Sulia agreed with a seductive smirk.

"Great! I’ll time you both in tomorrow’s semifinals!" Bessdaitiel’s eyes crinkled into happy slits.

"Hey hey... Don’t decide to use me as a bet without asking!"

"BOOOOM—!!!" A thunderous crash on the arena jolted the sisters from their standoff.

A massive underground rock giant collapsed with a deafening thud.

"That strength! One punch felled Bakrako—a level-four rock giant contending for Furnace Keeper! Yet he wasn’t seeded, stuck in preliminaries?"

We stared at the elder who’d felled it: a powerfully built old man in a black butler uniform, face hidden behind a mask.

"..."

"Bessdaitiel!" I said coldly.

"Yes, Princess?"

I pointed at the masked elder. "Disqualify him for me."

"Huh? This... Every participant deserves fair chances! Though unidentified, he must have reasons—ahaha." Bessdaitiel chuckled slyly again.

"Unidentified? That’s Seth! My head butler and tournament organizer! Sneaking into his own event with that clumsy disguise—what’s he after?"

"Well... Bessdaitiel doesn’t know. He might not even be Uncle Seth."

"It’s definitely him!"

After the Seth incident faded, low-level selection matches resumed. Exciting at first, they soon grew tedious.

"I... am tired. Supervise the rest, Bessdaitiel." I stood, glancing at the senior. I’d wanted to take her back—but Sulia nearby wouldn’t let it slide. I walked into the arena building behind the high platform, flashed, and teleported to my bedroom.

I lay limply on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Why were Feyn Senior and Sulia always so energetic? Could a girl’s vitality really tie to bust size?

"Senior Sister... tomorrow, you must win. I don’t like bunny girl outfits either."