SLIME LEGION

Chapter 14: Falling Apart

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The instant the signal rang out, fourteen Raptors shot forward like bullets.

One didn’t.

"..."

"...What?"

I blinked.

Then looked down at the controls.

Then back at the empty track ahead of me.

Then back at the controls.

"...The fuck?"

I pressed a button.

Nothing.

Pressed another.

Still nothing.

"...Move."

Nothing.

The last of the racers disappeared around the bend while I remained exactly where I’d started.

...

This was embarrassing.

"What’s Number Nine doing?!"

"Doesn’t he know how to drive a Raptor?"

"Relax, it’s obviously some kind of strategy."

"...You absolute dumbass, how is coming dead last a strategy?"

The entire stadium erupted into discussion.

At this point nobody even cared about the actual race anymore.

Every pair of eyes had landed on me.

"Hahaha! You’re right, it’s definitely him!" Penelope burst out laughing. "He doesn’t even know how to ride a Raptor and he wants to win?!"

Violet folded her arms, already looking irritated.

"...You always ask why I defend the Eleventh Prince," Renay said casually while chewing her bubble gum, "but a better question would be why you dislike him so much when he barely even knows you."

"...I don’t dislike him."

"...And I’m a man."

Penelope deadpanned.

Vivian chuckled.

Even Libranol couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

"...Penelope." Renay sighed. "He’s weird, sure, but honestly he’s pretty chill. So why all the bad energy?"

"Because he’s a simp."

"...Was."

Renay corrected immediately.

"And besides, if I actually wanted him..."

She shrugged.

"...He would’ve been mine years ago."

The confidence in her voice was ridiculous.

"Aren’t you going to say anything?" someone asked, nudging Helene.

She never looked away from the track.

"I don’t need to."

"I was never interested in him to begin with."

...

"...Fucking garbage."

I smacked the dashboard.

Nothing.

Turned the steering wheel.

Nothing.

Pressed every button I could find.

Still nothing.

"...Move, you oversized piece of shit."

The floating camera beside me faithfully recorded every second of my public humiliation.

"...Maybe his Raptor’s broken?"

"Nah."

"I don’t think that’s even the real Number Nine."

"Hahaha!"

"Maybe the dumbass doesn’t even know he has to power it with Ether!"

...

Ether?

...

Oh.

Right.

This wasn’t Earth.

"...You’ve got to be kidding me."

I stared at the crystal embedded in the dashboard.

"So... how exactly do I..."

I placed my hand on it.

Nothing.

"...Come on."

Still nothing.

I frowned harder, trying to remember how people in this world supposedly used Ether.

Was I supposed to imagine it?

Push it?

Think really hard?

Hell if I knew.

A warm sensation slowly gathered inside me.

It travelled through my arm...

Then into the crystal.

Hummmm...

The dashboard suddenly lit up.

The Raptor trembled.

"WAIT!"

"He powered it!"

"Oh thank God."

Finally.

I grabbed the steering wheel with both hands.

"Now let’s catch u—"

VRRROOOOM!!

"...WAIT!"

"...Why are we turning?"

"...Why are we STILL TURNING?!"

"WAIT, NOT THAT WAAAAY!!!"

The Raptor shot off like a missile.

Straight in the opposite direction.

"...WHAT IS HE DOING?!"

The commentator practically screamed.

...

Ah.

So that’s what reverse was.

...

Good to know.

---

"Director!"

Inside the control room, one of the staff members looked ready to have a heart attack.

"What do we do about Number Nine?"

The middle-aged director stared silently at the enchanted screens.

"..."

By regulation...

Number Nine should’ve been disqualified immediately.

Driving the wrong way wasn’t exactly a minor offence.

Unfortunately...

Number Nine happened to be Prince Lorel Morel.

The Eleventh Prince.

Anthony had warned him beforehand that Lorel would be participating.

He had neglected to mention he’d also attempt to dismantle the race within the first thirty seconds.

The director pinched the bridge of his nose.

"...Pretend you didn’t see it."

"...Sir?"

"I said..."

A tired sigh escaped him.

"...Pretend."

"...You."

"...Didn’t."

"...See."

"...Anything."

Nobody questioned the order.

Sometimes...

Keeping your job was more important than enforcing the rules.

...

...

BOOM!!

KRRRSHHH!!

BOOOOM!!

Explosions continuously erupted across the track as the leading racers exchanged blasts while fighting for position.

"EVAN!!"

Contestant Number Four roared.

"You bastard!!"

Too late.

A concentrated Ether blast from Number Thirteen smashed into his Raptor, sending it spinning violently across the track.

"Oh, quit whining."

Evan casually rotated his Raptor a full three hundred and sixty degrees, narrowly slipping between two incoming beams before accelerating again.

"Not much Ether left..."

He lined up his cannon.

"Better make this one count."

His sights settled on Number Six.

Locked.

"...Die."

He squeezed the trigger.

...

"...What the flipping fu—?!"

His Raptor suddenly lurched to a complete stop.

Not because it malfunctioned.

Because something had just appeared directly in front of him.

Before he could react—

BOOOOM!!

A massive beam slammed into his side.

His Raptor spun violently before crashing into the safety barriers.

Smoke exploded across the track.

Watching the wreckage disappear behind him...

Austin calmly exhaled.

He poured more Ether into his own Raptor.

No wasted movements.

No unnecessary emotions.

Only one thought occupied his mind.

First place.

...

...

Further back...

Things were somehow even more chaotic.

"I KNOW THAT’S YOU, ANTHONY!!"

Three Raptors relentlessly pursued Number Ten.

Energy blasts tore across the track one after another.

"Damn it!"

Anthony jerked his steering wheel sideways, narrowly avoiding another shot.

"WHERE ARE YOU, LOREL?!"

This wasn’t part of the plan.

He was supposed to be hunting Austin.

Instead...

Half the racers had recognized his driving style and decided eliminating him first sounded like a fantastic idea.

Another blast skimmed past his cockpit.

"DAMN IT!!"

At this rate...

He wasn’t surviving the first lap.