Players nearby turned toward the commotion. Even Rita, who had been about to jump down from the stands, stopped in place.
Queque could not hold back.
"I thought you two hated each other. The way you're talking makes it sound like you're close."
NightFury, who had recently lost to Mistblade, grumbled, "You said she didn't care about winning or losing."
Maple Syrup curled her lips. The smile was full of mockery, yet Rita caught a faint bitterness in it.
"She really doesn't care."
The hand gripping Mistblade's wrist turned pale from the force. Maple Syrup's voice carried a strange restraint, as if she did not know who she was really speaking to.
"Because in her mind, she can lose to me. Lose to someone everyone can see is weaker than her. People will only wonder about her motives. They'll be surprised she made a mistake. But no one will ever question her ability."
"But she doesn't want to lose to BS Rita or Isolated Isle Lightchaser."
