Percy stretched his legs, using the [Body revitalization] the system offered him at the beginning of the day. He needed peak performance to win the race against Hugo.

The ongoing race would end soon. He and Hugo registered for the next. They would be racing against six other people, but their bet still stood.

If he won, Percy would get information about the Count of Yarol. But if he lost… he would be forced to dance and sing a children's song.

His jaw tightened at the very thought. This can't happen. He needed to win no matter what.

Flynn was standing beside him, still trying to process what the heck was going on. Her red hair fluttered in the coarse wind of the fields. Her pale face and amber eyes glowed in the sunlight. This would make a good pic if she didn't look so lost.

"I still don't understand why this is happening," she said once again. "How do we know that guy wasn't sent to kill us?"

"Us?" he asked, stretching his back. "He's likely here to kill me or Thalos at least."

"Yes. That is why we should be cautious of him, and not preparing for a foot race against a random guy we met an hour ago."

"Yeah, but Thalos doesn't want to fight."

"Um, okay. Still don't think it's a good idea to race him," Flynn said, throwing her hands up in frustration. "We should just talk to Thalos, make him—"

Percy waved his hand, cutting her off.

"No. We don't need Thalos to fight. I'll win the information with my feet."

Flynn gave up. There was no point in trying to convince someone as eccentric as Percy that he was wrong. And she didn't even know if she was right, anyway. If Thalos didn't object, who was she to say no.

"Can you even beat that guy? He's an adult."

"Meh, we'll see," he said carelessly. "I can probably win though. And if I can't, I'm kicking his shins if he tries to overtake me."

Flynn nodded, that was a valid strategy.

"But like… what if you lose."

"I told you already. I'll have to dance a stupid dance and sing a dumb song. Don't you understand the stakes here?" he said seriously. "I don't dance stupid dances and sing dumb songs."

There were other things on her mind rather than Percy's weirdly flexible pride. She sent a glance at the screaming crowd surrounding the runners. Their loud voices and the swarm of them.

"Aren't you scared of losing in front of so many people?"

Percy glanced around. There were quite a few people here, and it was noisy, sweaty and dusty. But he had been to a playoff finals and World Cups, this wasn't much.

"Well you see, after we leave this town, I'll never see any of these people again."

Flynn was a bit taken back by his response.

"You're the Viscount's son. Everyone in Demetria will know you one day."

"Well my dad didn't reveal who we were when we came so they don't know who I am," Percy shot back. "And even if they do… who gives a fuck?"

The realisation froze her. Her feet felt awkward against the grass, like she was standing the wrong way.

"You don't care at all."

It was so obvious but still foreign to her. She would have worried about looking like an idiot up there if she was him. She would have worried about falling on her face. She would have worried about losing in front of her dad.

But Percy just forgot that people would watch him race.

"Well, the race is for me and Hugo. The other runners are basically a side show. We can race each other after if you like, I'll let you win."

She punched the top of his head, hiding her smile.

"Worry about winning your race. If you lose, I'll make sure to tell everyone about your dance."

○———○

It was time. Percy rubbed his hands against his face. He was bare-chested, wearing just his grey shorts. His bare feet shuffled over the sandy track.

On his left was Hugo, who looked way more terrifying shirtless. The man was covered in scars and injuries. His grey hair and intimidating stature was drawing a lot of eyes.

The bozo was even catching the ladies' eyes. Percy had to admit that the man was far better built, but his boyish frame was already showing signs of exercise. He sighed and focused on the race.

A man stood at the edge of the track, shirtless and sweaty, skin bronze from the sun. He was in charge of officiating the race.

"Ready?!"

Percy and the other racers got into a crouch. The other racers were still a bit wary of Hugo, but they got to their starting positions.

Hugo turned and gave him a confident smile.

"You've got ten seconds. Use them well, kid."

They were running the popular two hundred meters, so everyone was watching. Percy could glimpse Thalos and Flynn through the crowd.

Thalos looked excited, Flynn looked like someone made her swallow a rock. He winked at them and faced the track.

"Try to keep up, old man."

A determined growl thrummed in Hugo's throat. It was a bit personal now.

The official raised his hands, then brought them down in a flash.

"Go!"

Everyone took off in a burst of dust and movement. He took it easy for a second to get his feet under him then started pushing as hard as possible.

He was faster than the other runners just by a bit, especially with his perfect start. But they were also distracted by something, probably the fact that Hugo was still crouched in the sand.

It would take him thirty seconds at his best to cover two hundred meters. He didn't know how fast Hugo was. With his ten-second head start that left only twenty seconds left in the race, Hugo would have to match the fastest man on Earth to even catch up.

And they both promised not to use magic. Without proper training and technique it should be impossible for a man to run two hundred meters in less than nineteen point one nine seconds.

He could see the finish line just ahead. People and trees blurred past as he tore up the track, their voices cheering him on. No one expected a kid to win the dash.

He was counting the time as he ran, he was ahead of his thirty seconds estimation. He could make—

The voices of the crowd interrupted his focus. They were all pointing at something behind him.

"What the hell?"

"That guy's so fast."

"Even after all that time he wasted. Is he going to overtake them?"

"He's past three people already!"

Percy kept his eyes on the white line, running like his life depended on it. Six seconds to go before he crossed the finish line.

He could hear the tapping of feet getting closer. Instead of turning around and killing his momentum he pushed forward.

His arms and legs burned, pleading for rest, but he ignored them, imagining himself dancing like an idiot.

Two seconds.

He could hear Hugo's breath right behind him. His feet grazing against the earth with soft, lightning-fast clicks.

They both crossed the finish line, slowing down only after a couple more meters. Then they turned to the official, whose eyes were wide open with shock.

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