In the vast, sunlit training ground of the Federal Manor, the air crackled with anticipation, and barely veiled contempt.
Nikko stood alone in the center ring, donned in her standard combat uniform, her expression unreadable. Around her, the sneers of her half-siblings echoed like flies buzzing in a sealed room.
"I heard Daikaichi was sentenced to death for what he did," one sibling murmured, loud enough for others to hear.
"Tch. I wish he'd succeeded before getting caught," another scoffed. "At least we wouldn't have to see that stain around again."
"Why is it always the useless ones that get so lucky?"
None of it phased her. Not anymore.
The trainer, standing at the edge of the ring, didn't even raise an eyebrow. Insults like those were common. The Yakomoto household thrived on hierarchy, cruelty, and power, and those at the bottom were meant to either rise or rot.
