After finishing his explanation, Cynrik fell silent and only offered one or two-word answers in response to the multitude of questions sent by either Saylin or Geralt. Before long, the Opening Ceremonies were called to a close, and the teams were escorted out in the order they arrived.

‘So what now? Normally, if I was watching from home, I would have already gotten up and walked away.’ Cynrik asked as he stood up and took in the sights of the Arena.

‘Wait…Brance, is he serious right now?’ Geralt asked as he stood up and stretched. Most of MyrkLys mimicked the Headmaster after sitting in the crappy plastic chairs for over an hour.

‘Sigh, unfortunately, he is. Every year, our family gathers in the den to watch the Opening Ceremonies, yet when the entertaining videos are over, POOF, Cyn pulls his vanishing act. He’s like a cat who, once they’ve gotten attention, want nothing to do with you any longer.’ Reaching over and making sure to pat Milo on the head since he was a good boy and nothing like the imaginary cat he had described, Brance shot Cynrik a weirded-out expression.

‘Can I be blamed for that, though? That’s like sitting and purposely reading through the ending credits after a movie. Ignoring the fact that certain series have post-credit scenes, you and our parents always enjoy the boring parts.’ Using a poor excuse, Cynrik shrugged his shoulders and looked toward Saylin, who had been quiet for a while now for answers.

‘Hehe, this is going to be pretty funny, isn’t it?’ The older man said with raised eyebrows and an entertained expression.

‘I mean, it will either go about how you expect, or we will end up putting out A LOT of fires soon. How bout you take a gander over there, Cynrik.’ Geralt groaned as he pointed across the Arena at a special staging Area.

Narrowing his eyes and following in the direction Geralt pointed, Cynrik’s eyes soon widened as a weird glint flashed through them.

‘No **ing way, NO FUCKING WAY. Nooo~, there’s no way they would…I mean, why wouldn’t I…what if….?’ He began mumbling under his breath.

‘Oh, what seems to be the problem, Cynrik, don’t tell me you have stage fright.’ Saylin asked with a chuckle before Brance added to the conversation with an opinion of his own.

‘I am leaning toward getting the extinguishers primed and ready. Headmaster Rivia, you should probably start contacting VSFA’s Public Resources department. If I know my brother….’

Before Brance could finish his statement, Cynrik was on his feet and practically vibrating with excitement, causing him to groan loudly and bury his head in his hands.

In a display that could only be described as hyperactive, Cynrik’s head bounced back and forth between Saylin and Geralt, and anyone could tell by looking at him that he was giddy as a kid on Christmas.

What he had seen across the Arena was a Staging area set up for Tier-3 Team Captains to conduct interviews with Roni and Cesar.

Seeing how the usually expressionless young man was overly excited, Geralt felt a wave of dread wash over him, making him sigh heavily.

‘Why do I feel more like a parent right now than a Headmaster.’ He complained as he looked toward Brance for help.

‘Don’t look at me; I can’t control him. You know damn well the moment you shove a microphone in his face, my brother is going to fly off the handle like some kind of professional wrestler. The best thing I can advise is to get ready for damage control, as I stated already.’ Holding up his hands helplessly, Brance couldn’t offer much help to Geralt, so he turned to Saylin.

‘I don’t see the problem so long as he doesn’t touch on topics he shouldn’t. The kid isn’t dumb enough to blab about killing all those people or even bring up the issue of attempted kidnapping.’

‘Yeah, I’m not that dumb, Hoooowwwweverrr~~. All bets are off when it comes to trash-talking. OH, OH, do you think they will pull in my dip** cousin and that Jason guy? Hehe, I sure hope they **ing do.’ Rubbing his hands together like a supervillain, Cynrik spun around and anxiously padded in place, waiting for the isle to clear so he could make a mad dash toward the staging area.

Now darling~ don’t go saying anything I wouldn’t, come here let me fix your clothes. Pushing her way past Kurza, the Sandfords, Brance, and Melody, Selene appeared in front of Cynrik and began fussing with the long collar of his uniform blazer, then moved on to adjusting his hood.

Hehe, Sel, I don’t think you understand how BADLY I’ve wanted to **-talk someone with an audience watching. I have waited for this moment for two lifetimes. Growing up, I never missed a pre-fight press conference for any of the big Mixed Martial Arts pay-per-views, and I have practiced what I would say for ages. Cynrik hurriedly said as he allowed Selene to mess with his clothes.

That seems very on brand for you, Darling, hold still, you keep shuffling about, and you’re making it difficult to ensure that your gear is straight. Reaching up and over her boyfriend’s shoulder, Selene then adjusted Cynrik’s back-mounted Kodachi so that it was angled perfectly before moving on to his hip weapon.

A few moments later, she patted his shoulder twice to signal she had finished making him look good.

‘Fine, go, but don’t make a fool of yourself, and don’t say anything that can easily be misconstrued or used against you. If all you want to do is roast some kids, so be it.’ Relenting to the looks he was receiving from both Selene and Cynrik, Geralt shooed Cynrik off, giving him the go-ahead to conduct an interview.

‘Good **, thanks, Headmaster,’ Shooting Geralt a salute, Cynrik spun around and flipped over the balcony before landing on one knee 10 meters below on the ground level.

His flashy actions drew some attention, but thanks to the loud music, flashing lights, and crowd reactions from the interview occurring, which had just started being broadcast on the jumbotron, no one seemed to care too much.

‘Now he refers to me by my title…what the hell goes on in that head of his?’ Geralt asked no one in particular but didn’t receive a response.

Soon enough, Cynrik disappeared, blending into the sea of bodies moving toward one of the many exits, leaving MyrkLys, Geralt, Saylin, Garrison, and Rimsfel behind to shake their heads at his over-eagerness to cause trouble.

‘Yeah, you’re probably going to regret letting him go; I hope you realize that, Headmaster.’ Brance chided as he kept track of Cynrik with Mana Sight.

‘What do you mean probably going to? I already do regret it. Who knows what kind of crap will spew out of that foul mouth of his. Damn it; I need to make some calls; Gabriella, you can release me from the connection.’ Geralt complained as he opened a spatial tear and disappeared off to who knows where.

‘Brance, on a scale of walk in the park to catastrophic failure, how bad is this going to be?’ Out of curiosity, Saylin couldn’t hold his tongue any longer and asked.

‘Heh, you know the devastation left after an Egress dumps thousands of Creatures on a city?’ Turning his head to the side as he talked, Brance stated cryptically, leaving Saylin shivering as memories from the past came to the forefront of his mind.

‘Well, imagine one of those opening up every 30 seconds for two weeks, and you can begin understanding the potential catastrophe Headmaster Rivia just unleashed on the news media.”

‘I…I need to make some calls.’ Was all Saylin said as he swung his arm up and began furiously typing away on his Watcet.

‘Yeah…that’s probably for the best. Also, if you know any good lawyers, you should put them on retainer…it’ll be a bloodbath out there.

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**Chapter 0463- Team Leader Press Interview (1)**

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