The women's restroom was quiet.

  The noise of the hall reached it only as a dull echo.

  Liora stood before the mirror. Ineyra turned sharply toward her.

  "Why did you praise him like that? Did you see Kael's face? The others too? They didn't like it at all."

  "Because he deserves every word I said," Liora replied calmly.

  "I watched his recordings. Those players were nothing special. That era was weaker. The gods, the NPCs, the competition — all inferior. Anyone at our level today could have taken first place back then."

  "That's completely wrong."

  "Oh? Then enlighten me."

  Liora met her gaze.

  "In PvP he defeated every top player of that era. Not once. Repeatedly.

  He didn't climb the ranking — he dominated it.

  He conquered Pelegon when no one else even came close. That isn't about weak opponents. That's about superiority."

  Ineyra folded her arms.

  "If I had played back then, I would have done the same."

  Liora's expression didn't change.

  "No. You wouldn't have."

  A pause.

  "You're confusing confidence with capability."

  Ineyra's eyes flashed.

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  "And what exactly are you implying?"

  "I'm implying," Liora continued evenly, "that dismissing an entire era just because it came before us is something a foolish girl would do."

  "Foolish?" Ineyra stepped forward. "Watch your words."

  Liora didn't move.

  "When he fought Grey Moll, he had already calculated the outcome. Every step. In PvP he dismantled opponents psychologically before the match even ended."

  Her voice lowered slightly.

  "And you know that. You understand what that level requires."

  Silence stretched.

  "Your hostility toward him isn't analysis," Liora added. "It's insecurity. His era is still praised more than ours. That bothers you."

  Ineyra clenched her jaw.

  "You're talking like you're in love with him."

  Liora held her gaze.

  "If I truly knew who he was… I would confess to him."

  Ineyra gave a short, sharp laugh.

  "And what if behind that legend there's just an ordinary guy hiding behind theatrics?"

  Liora shook her head.

  "Charisma at that scale doesn't grow out of mediocrity."

  Silence lingered.

  "We'll see," Ineyra said coldly, and walked out.

  Liora remained alone.

  Tonight, everything would become clear.

  Men's Restroom

  Cold tiles. The scent of disinfectant.

  Kael stood in front of the mirror.

  The door opened.

  John walked in.

  Kael saw him in the reflection.

  "So, decided to continue the conversation?" he asked dryly.

  John closed the door.

  "You talk too much," he said calmly.

  "You were silent in the hall," Kael replied. "And now you've suddenly found your courage?"

  John smirked crookedly.

  "In the hall, I couldn't do what I'm about to do now.

  Words don't work on someone like you."

  Kael turned to face him.

  "What do you mean — words?"

  John stepped closer.

  "I'm used to resolving conflicts with violence."

  Kael smirked.

  "Really? And you think you've got the nerve?"

  The punch came instantly.

  Kael bent forward as the air was knocked out of him.

  "Seems like no one taught you how to speak to your elders," John said evenly.

  Kael clenched his teeth.

  "You'll regret this."

  John grabbed him by the collar and struck him across the face.

  The sound echoed against the tiles.

  "Remember this," he said quietly. "You can argue. But you're not grown enough to insult us."

  He let go.

  "Not us. And not him."

  John walked toward the door.

  "Grow up."

  The door closed.

  Kael slowly straightened, gripping the sink.

  Blood appeared on his lip.

  In the mirror, his gaze had hardened.

  This isn't over.

  From the hall, the host's voice echoed:

  "Fifteen minutes until the appearance."