System's POV

"Clark, do you know why you're here right now?" Claude asked in a solemn tone.

"I have an idea, Father," Clark replied. "But it is best that I hear the reason directly from you."

Claude nodded. "How confident are you in beating Roland?"

The young man immediately frowned when he heard his father's question. While he was confident in his strength, it wasn't to the point that he could easily say that he would have an absolute victory over Roland.

"I can win against him," Clark replied after giving it some thought.

Claude walked toward the window and clasped his hands behind his back.

"I've already sent you the videos of his previous battles and his recently recorded battles," Claude stated. "Have you watched them?"

"Yes, Father," Clark replied. "I have already studied his fighting style."

Claude nodded without bothering to look at his son.

"However, I received information that Roland and his party have undergone intense training in the Rigel Continent," Claude stated. "I asked our people stationed at the Rigel Continent to spy on his training, but the drones they used had been destroyed before they could even reach their destination. The Agents I asked to infiltrate their training area were also never heard from again.

"Fortunately, we got the recording of their battles in Glory City, so I can say that what you received is the latest data about him."

Clark nodded. "Don't worry, Father. I will do everything in my power to win."

"Good. You may leave." Claude replied.

The young man gave his father's back one last glance before leaving the office with a frown on his face.

The moment his son left the room, Claude asked a question to the air.

"Where is Roland?" Claude asked.

"Sir, he's currently in the Main Headquarters of the Central Government," a man answered, materializing behind the Patriarch of the Ashford Clan.

"Is there any way for our spies to make contact with him?" Claude inquired.

"He is currently in a restricted area that could only be accessed by the Field and Grand Marshal," the Agent replied. "If we try to sneak in, our Agents will definitely be rooted out of the Central Government."

A sigh escaped Claude's lips before nodding his head in understanding.

"It seems that the Grand and Field Marshal knew that we might make an attempt to sabotage him," Claude muttered. "Well, they wouldn't have been a thorn in our side if they didn't take precautions like this."

After pondering a moment, the Patriarch of the Ashford Clan gave another batch of orders.

"Tell our spies to keep an eye and ear to anything related to Roland," Claude ordered. "Also, make them carry the special medicines at all times. If an opportunity arises, tell them to use it without fail."

"Yes, Sir," the Agent replied before disappearing from the room to carry out his Master's orders.

A few minutes later, a frown appeared on Claude's face.

He still didn't know if the matchup between his son and Roland was a coincidence or if there was something else at play.

Tapping his communicator, a projection appeared in front of him, revealing the copy of the matchups of the different Wanderers in their respective groups and brackets.

"Something smells fishy," Claude muttered. "Zion's people are evenly spread in the four groups, with none of them fighting against each other in the first round."

From the very start, there was a nagging feeling at the back of his head that the teenage boy might have tampered with the Ballot Box.

However, since he decided to have a hands-off approach ever since his people had been eliminated from the tournament, Claude really couldn't blame anyone but himself.

'If this is really a coincidence, then it's fine,' Claude thought. 'But if it's not, it seems that I need to reevaluate Zion once more.'

The Patriarch of the Ashford Clan sank in his thoughts.

Right now, they were in a very passive position. If only Clark could secure a win against Roland, then their Clan would once again regain some momentum in the tournament.

***

"What is it?" Zion asked in a grumpy tone as he raised his communicator near his lips.

A moment later, Roland's voice spread inside the room.

"Am I disturbing something important?" Roland asked. "Did I call at the wrong time?"

Thirteen blinked once then twice before glancing at Erica's bosom, where his head was resting peacefully a few minutes ago.

Sherry was hugging him from behind, and the three of them were sleeping together on the bed.

Thinking that the call might be important, he subconsciously answered it, only to hear Roland's voice on the other side.

"It's almost midnight," Thirteen replied. "You tell me if you called at the wrong time or not?"

An awkward chuckle responded on the other side of the line.

Of course, Roland knew that he called at the wrong time, but he was unable to sleep and was feeling restless.

"I'm just wondering if you can give me some advice for my battle tomorrow?" Roland inquired.

"Don't eat and drink stuff from strangers," Thirteen replied in a heartbeat. "Also, wear a Hazmat Suit so that you will be a hundred percent safe from airborne stuff that might make you weak during your battle."

"… I can understand the part when I must not eat and drink stuff given to me by strangers," Roland replied. "But must I really wear a Hazmat Suit? Isn't that a bit overkill?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Thirteen replied. "It's your funeral anyway."

"Killing is not allowed in the tournament," Roland interjected.

"Good job, Sherlock," Thirteen commented. "Now, go to sleep."

"Wait! Can you tell me how to defeat Clark?"

"Kick and punch him hard. If you can, aim for his balls. The battle will be over by then."

Roland, who was on the other side of the line, didn't know if Zion was joking with him or not.

In the end, he decided to end the call because he could tell that the teenage boy was being grumpy.

"I guess I'll talk to Shana next," Roland muttered.

However, thinking that the young lady, whom he had a crush on, must already be sleeping, he decided to not bother her, not wanting to interrupt her sleep.

Sighing, Roland lay on the bed and looked at the unfamiliar ceiling above his head.

With a second sigh, he closed his eyes and used a special method to force himself to sleep.

For some reason, he was suddenly anxious about his upcoming battle in the morning.

He was not aware that while he was secured behind closed doors, Lawrence and Tristan were busy cleaning up the spies of the Ashford Clan, who were all completely caught by surprise.