Chapter 147: "Shut Up"

Aren blinked slowly, struggling to gather her thoughts.

The fever still burned relentlessly through her body, clouding her mind, yet fragments of what had happened beneath the maze remained startlingly vivid in her memory.

She remembered everything.

Turning her gaze toward Jordan, she searched his face anxiously.

"...Jordan, did we... did we..."

"We did!" he answered at once, nodding even more vigorously than before. "I got both of our coins, Ariana! I already submitted them!"

A faint smile touched Aren’s lips.

’Ah... thank you, God.’

’Then all of my effort... Jordan’s... Lady Rosalia’s... none of it was wasted.’

She gave the smallest nod, her eyelids drifting shut once more as a quiet wave of relief and happiness settled over her.

Beside her, however, Caio looked far more troubled than relieved.

"...Hey," he murmured, his voice gentle despite the concern etched across his face. "You still have the energy to worry about some coins? You’re burning up with a fever."

Aren slowly turned toward him, and despite the pallor draining every trace of color from her face, her smile blossomed into something so bright it caught him completely off guard.

"D-Don Caio..." she whispered weakly. "I... I made it. I made it to the last round."

For a moment, Caio didn’t know whether to sigh or frown.

She was burning like a furnace, barely capable of keeping her eyes open, yet she smiled with such innocent delight that he found himself momentarily robbed of words.

"...Yes," he said quietly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against her forehead. "You made it."

His expression softened even further.

"But now you’re going to rest. No more competing."

Jordan nodded repeatedly. Much as he hated agreeing with the man standing opposite him — and even more so seeing that kiss — he couldn’t argue with that.

"He’s right, Ariana. You need to rest."

At that moment, Gian hurried over, nearly throwing himself toward the stretcher.

"Ariana!" the elderly Don exclaimed. "My God, you’re awake! What happened to you down there? You’re completely soaked!"

Jordan quietly stepped aside to make room for him. Gian immediately clasped his daughter’s freezing hand between both of his, visibly startled by how cold it felt — like the hand of a corpse.

Yet despite her alarming condition, the instant Aren saw him, she somehow looked even more awake. Her entire face lit up with a joy utterly at odds with her ghostly complexion.

"Ah... Father!" she said happily. "I...I made it through the second round. I get to fight in the last round now! Y-you and everyone in the House... you don’t have to wait anymore! You’ll finally get to watch me compete!"

The remaining Dons arrived just in time to hear her declaration.

Giovanni’s brow furrowed deeply.

"Oh dear, Lady Ariana. You’re in this condition, and you’re still thinking about competing? Have some mercy on your poor father."

Eduardo, by contrast, remained composed.

"Are you certain your condition is suitable for continuing into the final round?" he asked evenly, his concern focused solely on the competition itself.

To everyone’s surprise, Aren somehow brightened even more, as though she had been waiting for someone to ask that exact question.

"Ah, yes! Of course!" she replied earnestly. "I’m completely certain I’m fit for the final round."

She even tried to push herself upright, startling everyone gathered around the stretcher.

"Just... just give me a fever reducer and a stimulant," she said, as though asking for candy. "Anything that’ll keep me on my feet."

For five long seconds, every man surrounding the stretcher stared at her, wondering whether the fever had somehow altered the chemistry of her brain.

Then—

"NO!"

Three voices rang out in perfect unison.

"Absolutely not!" Caio snapped. "You are not forcing yourself through this with a couple of injections. End of discussion!"

"Listen to him, Ariana!" Gian pleaded, his voice cracking with panic. "I won’t allow you to gamble with your life like this!"

"It’s truly not worth it, I’ve tried it before," Jordan protested, his expression tightening at the memory. "You’ll get twenty, maybe thirty minutes where you feel fine, but once it wears off, your body’s going to crash harder than concrete."

Suddenly, one of the nearby medics — who had earlier been shoved aside rather mercilessly — raised a timid hand.

"Um... excuse me, Young Boss, but the stimulant we gave you back then was an older formulation." He scratched his cheek sheepishly. "We’ve upgraded our medical kit since then. The new heavy-duty injections are much better. Far fewer side effects."

At once, three heads whipped toward him.

"SHUT UP!"

The poor medic flinched so violently he nearly dropped his medical case. Muttering a frightened apology, the unfortunate man hurriedly retreated behind the rest of the medical team.

Aren smiled awkwardly at the three stubborn men.

Despite the haze of fever clouding her thoughts, her mind continued searching relentlessly for a way through the situation.

’Oh dear... how do I convince them?’

’I don’t feel comfortable letting Jordan face the final round alone.’

’I still don’t know whether Nazario and Natalia have another vicious plan waiting for him that I never managed to uncover.’

’I’d better enter the final round with him.’

’And...’

The corners of her lips curved ever so slightly.

’...I’ve still got the last part of my plan to carry out.’

With that firmly in mind, she drew a slow breath before speaking as gently as she could.

"...I... I know all of you are worried about me. And... thank you for that. Truly..."

Her gaze moved from Caio to Jordan, then finally settled on Gian.

"...But... if I withdraw now... everything I achieved in the first and second rounds becomes meaningless. I don’t want to fight through all of that only to stop one step before the finish line."

Her voice grew quieter, but no less resolute.

"I’d regret it... a great deal."

Unfortunately for Aren, none of the three men looked remotely convinced. If anything, each of them only seemed to grow sterner.

Caio folded both arms across his chest.

"And what if you collapse permanently because you forced yourself through one more round?" he asked quietly. "Wouldn’t you regret that too?"

Jordan nodded at once.

"You’ve already proven yourself, Ariana. Nobody here is going to think less of you for withdrawing."

Even Gian tightened his grip around her hand.

"Ariana, I agree with both of them," he said, careful to keep his voice gentle. "You’ve already made me proud. You’ve already made our House proud. It’s important to know your limits... and to know when to stop before you destroy yourself trying to surpass them."

Aren looked from one man to the next before giving the slightest shake of her head.

"No... you don’t understand." Her voice remained soft, yet unwavering. "I... I didn’t compete just to prove something."

Her gaze drifted toward Caio. Releasing Gian’s hand for a moment, she reached over and gently took Caio’s instead, her fingers curling gently around his as though trying to reassure him.

"I know exactly what the risks are. I know exactly where my limits are... and I chose to compete to test myself and those limits... to discover what I still don’t know... and to become better than I am today."

Silence settled around the stretcher.

None of the three men found an immediate answer to her earnest confession.

Sensing their hesitation, Aren continued.

"I... I also competed because it made me truly happy." A faint smile touched her lips. "It makes me feel completely like myself... and I’ve found so much joy in this competition, no matter how difficult it’s been."

Another silence followed.

This time, none of them had another argument ready.

Each man looked away, burdened by his own thoughts. None of them wanted to let her push herself further in her current condition, yet none could bring themselves to dismiss such an honest plea outright.

The heavy silence lingered until Eduardo finally stepped closer to the stretcher with a quiet sigh.

"If Miss Lombardi has already expressed her desire to continue," he said evenly, "then I suggest she advances into the final round. After all, the competition must continue. As its organizer, I can’t allow this decision to delay the event indefinitely and keep everyone here waiting."

Giovanni nodded in agreement, though his interest was fueled more by fascination than practicality.

"I agree with Don Eduardo. Lady Ariana worked hard to earn her place in the final round. For someone competing for the first time, her performance has been nothing short of remarkable. I don’t see why the three of you should undermine all that effort."

Those opinions left the three men with little room to continue objecting.

At length, Caio let out a long, defeated sigh.

"Fine."

He gently brushed a damp strand of hair away from Aren’s forehead before resting his palm against her burning skin.

"You’ll get your fever reducer. But I’m checking every single vial myself before anyone injects anything into you."

Jordan had already turned toward the medic from earlier.

"Hey, you!" He pointed directly at the man. "Go get that stimulant you mentioned. And make damn sure it’s the best one you’ve got — not the garbage you used in previous years!"

The medic immediately straightened.

"Y-Yes, of course, Young Boss! Right away!"

He bolted across the warehouse to prepare the injections.

Gian released a long, resigned breath, though the worry never left his eyes.

"I’ll trust your judgment, Ariana," he said quietly. "Just... don’t push yourself any harder than you absolutely have to. You’ve already done more than enough."

"Don’t worry, Father." Aren smiled brightly. "I won’t push myself beyond what I know I can handle."

Gian smiled, somewhat reassured by her words. His daughter was becoming more mature with every passing day, and any father would have found comfort in that.

Unfortunately, that reassurance vanished almost immediately when he felt her begin to shiver.

"Um..." she said, trembling visibly, "...is there... is there something I can change into? I’d... I’d really like to get out of these soaked clothes. I-I’m freezing."

"Right, of course!" Jordan answered at once, nearly smacking himself on the forehead.

Pointing toward the locker area, he said,

"There’s a different outfit for the final round. I’ll grab yours while I’m getting mine, then bring it straight to the infirmary. You head there first. I’ll be there in a few minutes."

A warm smile spread across Aren’s face.

"...T-thank you, Jordan... I-I’ll see you at the infirmary."

With that, they parted ways.

Giovanni and Eduardo made their way back toward the spectator gallery, while the medics wheeled Aren toward the makeshift infirmary. Even from atop the stretcher, she continued waving at Jordan, with Caio and Gian following closely behind.

Jordan kept waving until she disappeared through the infirmary doors.

Only then did he finally turn away.

As he did, he noticed a team of staff members gathering beside the exit door, preparing to descend into the underground maze to retrieve the remaining contestants.

Without hesitation, Jordan strode over and caught the apparent leader of the cleanup team by the arm.

"You. One minute."

The man nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Y-Young Boss? What’s the matter?"

"You’re heading down to retrieve everyone still inside?" Jordan asked, merely confirming.

"Y-Yes, Young Boss," the man answered quickly. "We’re going down to bring out all the remaining contestants."

"Good."

Jordan gave a short nod, apparently satisfied.

"Then I’ve got another job for you. You will not tell anyone outside your team what I’m about to say."

The man’s expression stiffened at once. Given the sudden gravity in Jordan’s tone, he could tell this wasn’t going to be a simple task.

"Y-Yes, of course," he lowered his voice. "What is it you need?"

"Whichever soldiers you find down there," Jordan said quietly, "don’t bring them topside. Escort them through the underground tunnels directly to the detention cells near my quarters."

He gave the man a firm pat on the shoulder, urging him to get moving.

"Keep every last one of them locked up until I return from the Trials. Understood?"