"Mastaa, Big Sis Rucia...! We're here to cheer you on!"
"Yo, Klye. How's it going? Everything ready?"
"Ah, glad you could make it. Everything's perfect, of course!"
Members sporting the Beginning Footprint emblem filed in one after another—Tino, Sven, and the rest. I welcomed them with a hard-boiled grin.
They must have come to offer their support since the Martial Emperor Festival's opening ceremony was just around the corner. Not everyone had come, obviously, but it was still quite a crowd.
The spacious inn lobby was packed. Then again, this time of year, tough-looking Hunters gathering together was nothing out of the ordinary.
The inn we were staying at was high-end, but not so exclusive that even top-class Hunters couldn't swing it. The curious glances directed our way quickly moved on.
Eva, in her usual white uniform, was right there among them. It looked like she'd been escorted by the Hunters and arrived safe and sound without a hitch.
Surrounded by those intimidating Hunters, I almost felt like I'd gotten stronger myself. Sven flashed a wild grin and asked me.
"So? You used to the atmosphere in Kleet? I don't think you've got anything to worry about, but folks from Zebrudia are technically away, so..."
"No need to worry. You think Riizu and Luke would let that bother them? They're already warming up."
"No... I meant you."
Sven looked exasperated.
Of course I was doing great. I'd been lounging around the inn this whole time—there was no way being "away" was going to faze me.
Before I could answer, Tino declared.
"Sven. There's no way the Master would crack under pressure."
It had been a while since I'd last seen Tino's face.
Tino looked around the spacious lobby once more, then glanced at me and at Rucia, who was standing beside me as my bodyguard.
"Mastaa, I—I withdrew my entire savings to bet on you!"
Oh right, there was gambling too, wasn't there?
It was individual competition, but those strong enough to compete in the Martial Emperor Festival would never intentionally throw a match, so betting supposedly held together—barely.
I couldn't help but laugh at Tino's joke.
"Ahahaha, thanks. Maybe I'll push myself a little this time too!"
Well, not that you could actually bet on someone who wasn't competing.
"Yes, please do your best! I'll be taking notes!"
Tino looked up at me with sparkling eyes. How lovely, how lovely—go study by watching Riizu and the others instead.
As I nodded amiably to my long-unseen friends, Eva stepped in.
As always, her keen eyes gazed up at me through her slim glasses.
"Master, I met Tomoshibi. It seems you've commissioned some kind of job."
"Hmm—yeah. Just a bit of business. Nothing major, but Luke and Riizu said they wanted to get some warm-up exercise in before the tournament."
"Warm-up exercise?"
I crossed my arms and played it cool.
"It's kind of a local tradition in Kleet this time of year, right? Well, things seem to be going a little smoother than usual, but—"
The Fox Mask Appreciation Society had apparently been quite effective. There hadn't been a day in the past several days that Tomoshibi's name hadn't appeared in the newspaper.
From my perspective—someone who'd been ambushed by Monsters and thieves on the road more times than I could count—fewer bad guys was a lucky break, and Tomoshibi's rising fame was lucky too.
This time around, I was sharper than ever.
"You're in high spirits despite the fighting tournament coming up. You not going, Rucia?"
"I'll be looking after our leader."
Rucia shot me an accusatory look, but without a bodyguard, I could never relax properly. It couldn't be helped.
Besides, you weren't complaining about it before, were you?
But pointing that out would be immature.
"We could be attacked at the inn, you know..."
"...That's only because you keep doing stuff that invites attacks."
Sven said with a complicated expression. What terrible defamation. I looked at Tino, who quickly averted her gaze.
"No, that's not it. I'm telling you definitively—I haven't done anything. That's what makes it an ambush; it happens even when you haven't done anything."
"......Haaah."
Rucia let out a deep sigh.
Rucia knew perfectly well that I was harmless to man and beast alike, so this was surely a sigh of resigned acceptance toward my tendency to attract misfortune simply by existing.
But this time, it would be fine. Sven and the others were here, and security was airtight.
The sister fox I'd supposedly abandoned in the desert had shown up, but she was completely absorbed in fried tofu.
So I decided to change the subject. Time to break out my ace in the hole.
I put on a grin and spoke in a conspiratorial tone.
"Oh right, Sven. Actually, in this town—there's the real me."
"...Huh?"
"You know how they say there are three people in the world who look just like you? The moment I met him, I became a fan. And on top of that, his companions look just like ours too!"
"?!? Big brother!? I would never! Say anything like that!"
Rucia's face turned bright red as she denied it, but well, their names were similar, weren't they?
He'd said he didn't have a title yet, and taking that into account— "That must be the Rucia of the past."
Rucia's clingy phase had been very brief since she matured early, and it hadn't been that bad—but now that I thought about it, there had been a time like that... or had there?
Hm? Maybe not?
I watched Rucia, who was clenching her fists and trembling as if holding something back, and blinked.
"Riizu said he looked just like you too, you know?"
"B-b-brother? If you say that again, I'll turn you into a frog."
Crap. She'll turn me into a frog.
"Anyway, Sven, you should definitely go meet him. Tell him I sent you, and he'll probably be happy to give you an autograph! I'd like you to check out the other members too, if possible."
"Mastaa... why are you so incredibly happy about this...?"
Tino said with a look of disbelief, but of course—even Tino would crack up if she met her lookalike.
§ § § How had it come to this?
Cool Saikou, self-proclaimed wielder of "Foresight," couldn't hide his bewilderment at this unexpected turn of events.
Beside him, Zuri, self-proclaimed possessor of "Spectacular View," was equally confused.
"Gyahaha—this is, without a doubt, the real deal!"
"Sven, laughing like that is rude."
Klye Andrich—"Thousand Transformations."
This man had, beyond his reputation as a genius Hunter who'd reached Level 8 at such a young age, the face of a Clan Master of the great clan Beginning Footprint.
And the group that had suddenly appeared were members of that very Beginning Footprint.
Cool Saikou was the Party's brain.
When forming "Mourning Specter," he had thoroughly researched all available information about the Mourning Specter.
The tall man at the front. The Hunter outfitted in black-and-gold equipment was none other than the bearer of that title—Sven Anger, "Storm Strike."
For Treasure Hunters, a name was a source of pride.
Claiming a similar-sounding title for oneself was exceedingly dubious, and if the other party was a short-tempered Hunter, you could very well end up dead.
But what about this reaction?
Before a man who was impersonating their Clan Master (not that Klahi was doing it intentionally), they weren't angry at all—they were clapping their hands in delight.
"The real deal? What are you talking about? I am—without a doubt, the real thing."
"As expected, Big Brother, so cool! That's the best! More real than the real thing!"
Klahi declared it boldly. That figure indeed had the heroic bearing that only the genuine article could project. He was the real thing, all right—a real idiot.
At that attitude, Rusha—who, despite knowing full well that Klahi was an impostor, was utterly devoted to him—let out a shrill cheer and latched onto his arm.
The Thief girl with the red ribbon standing next to Sven quickly averted her gaze.
"Big Sis Rucia... you poor thing..."
"Hm? Did you say something to me?"
"I didn't!"
At the fearless Rusha—who had apparently accosted even the real Rucia—the Thief girl darted behind Sven.
Klahi, staff in one hand, surveyed the group with regal composure.
"So then, who are you all? Your bearing—it's self-evident that you're no ordinary people. You can't fool my eyes, no matter how hard you try!"
If one were to name a weakness of Klahi Andrich, it would be that he didn't pay much attention to those around him.
Having fought Solo for so long, Klahi knew almost nothing about other Hunters. That was why he felt absolutely no discomfort when Cool and the others approached him.
Incidentally, "Klahi Andrich" appeared to be his real name. His civil registration was firmly on record, too.
It was a complete coincidence. Klye and Klahi were nearly the same age, and there was no way one could have imitated the other's name.
But what on earth was the real one thinking?
When Cool heard that Klahi had met the real Klye, he thought it was game over. But instead of denouncing Klahi, the real one had apparently let it slide.
It was said that "Thousand Transformations" boasted unparalleled cunning and stratagem. Perhaps he'd seen through the fact that Klahi's impersonation wasn't intentional—but even so, this response was bizarre.
Could it really be that every powerhouse recognized as a high-level Hunter was an eccentric?
Even as he thought that couldn't be the case, looking at Klahi made him lose track of what was real anymore.
Sven Anger, putting on a serious face in response to Klahi's grandstanding words, said: "We are—members of the clan you created."
"What... did you say!?"
Klahi's eyes went wide.
What do you mean, "what"? You idiot—you haven't even created a clan!
Indeed, a talented Treasure Hunter quickly became the talk of the town. Rumors could take on a life of their own—people might start calling you by a nickname without your permission, or fan clubs could spring up, or you might even end up with a bounty on your head. But becoming the master of a clan you'd never even created was simply impossible.
But Klahi looked down at his own palm and murmured.
"Did I... create a clan without realizing it?"
"Eh!? Eh!? B-big brother, that's amaaazing!"
See? Even Rusha was thrown off!
Klahi had been mistaken for the real Klye Andrich numerous times before.
He was used to being praised for accomplishments he had no memory of. There had even been times when the Explorer's Guild themselves had mistaken him for the real thing.
Yes—an impostor's genuine bearing and power had blown away all doubt.
The worst part was that he genuinely believed himself to be the real thing.
"That's right, photos! Let's take a commemorative picture—Marietta, go get the camera!"
"Sven, you're taking this too far... honestly."
At Sven's command, the female Mage nearby went running off.
It seemed the real one thought Cool's group was just a bunch of pranksters or a fan club. That was understandable.
Klahi stood surrounded by members of a clan he had no memory of creating, smiling radiantly. He was too much of a big shot for his own good.
Then Sven glanced sharply at Cool. That piercing gaze, reminiscent of a bird of prey, made him involuntarily hold his breath.
"Hey—you're Luke, right? Where's Citry?"
"...Citry went out just now. She's an Alchemist, you know."
Right about now, she was probably using her silver tongue to peddle counterfeit potions.
The "Lowest Mountain Range" was the lowest of the low.
"What about Anthem?"
No good. He was no match for the real thing.
Or was it better that the real Luke hadn't shown up? Even with his famed Foresight, Cool hadn't seen this development coming.
Cool Saikou answered with the feeling of a thief being interrogated.
"...We're currently recruiting."