"Who cares?" Elius said with a shrug, turning toward the one who asked about Jiro's condition. His tone was light, dismissive, even flippant. "As long as he's alive, I won the bet."
The surrounding crowd of F-ranked Superheroes looked visibly deflated.
A collective sigh of disappointment spread among them like ripples across a still pond.
Some muttered complaints under their breath, others crossed their arms or kicked the dirt.
The excitement had turned sour in their mouths.
They'd been hoping for a win—not out of malice, but because most of them didn't believe the rookie Sword Immortal could pull it off.
They were wrong.
Then, with a mechanical hum and a faint hiss of hydraulics, something approached.
Vrrrt—whiiiirrr—click!
A small robot—round, sleek, no taller than a child—glided to a stop in front of Elius. Its body bore the official insignia of Academy High's administrative droid network.
