Since we don't have the budget to wait six hours, and the author still hasn't mastered the art of time-skipping without making jokes, we cut directly to the event stage.
The village hall was packed.
The villagers—each a slight variation of the same farmer stereotype (straw hats, sheep over shoulders, blank expressions)—filled the benches like members of a jury... though none of them spoke.
Literally. They just stared, as if attending a play whose script they didn't know but accepted purely out of habit.
Aoi stood on the podium. She wore a sharp lawyer suit, unnecessary glasses, and—for some unexplained reason—a whip that she cracked now and then for no discernible purpose. Her presence alone commanded respect… or fear.
On the other side of the room stood the protagonist of this sad but oddly entertaining tale: Akira. His hair was a mess, the remains of his broken glasses dangling from one ear, and his trusty fairy orbiting his head like a mocking satellite.
"The rules are simple," Aoi declared firmly, as a magic chalkboard floated beside her. "Each of you has eight thousand Debate Points. 'DP.'"
"What is this, a collectible card game?" Akira protested, raising his hand as if that would help.
"Our rules come from an ancient kingdom of the sands, passed down orally for generations…" Aoi replied without blinking.
"What's next? A blue-eyed dragon? A sexy mage with direct attacks? If I summon all five pieces of Melody, do I win the match?"
Minu floated over, arms crossed.
"Great references, but they don't know MuViOh!... And we don't have the rights to say that name again."
Akira crossed his arms, clicking his tongue.
"I should've studied public speaking instead of watching so much high school romance anime."
"Participants, ready yourselves," interrupted an elderly judge wearing an onion-shaped hat. "The debate shall begin after the reading of the Ancient Oath!"
A chorus of sheep bleated in unison. The lights dimmed. A drum beat somewhere in the background, likely struck by a child who had no idea what he was doing.
"Akira of the Kingdom of Faralight," Aoi said, pointing her whip at him. "Are you ready to lose with grace?"
"I'm ready to say nonsense with confidence. That's already half the battle won."
Minu jotted that down in a notebook titled "Quotes from an Underprepared Hero."
"Then let the Public Debate begin. May words cut, arguments explode… and humiliation be inevitable."
Akira swallowed hard. Aoi narrowed her eyes.The audience remained perfectly still, as if waiting for someone to yell "action."
And so, with dignity hanging by a thread and the SPN (Spectral Public Network) starting its internal timer accompanied by canned laughter, the first round was about to begin.
Aoi raised her hand authoritatively to take the floor.
"Tell me, so-called King of Faralight… why should Greenhill—a town rebuilt through the tireless efforts of its people—place their trust in a kingdom that abandoned them?"
"That was a really good question," Minu whispered, floating near Akira. "Hope you've got something solid…"
Akira raised his hand with confidence, pointing at Aoi as if about to deliver an epic rebuttal.
"I have no idea. Next question!"
Silence.Absolute.
The entire hall was stunned. A couple of sheep left the room in silent respect for the verbal defeat.
Akira's DP dropped from 8000 to 6000 in a single blow.
"You're supposed to answer… but fine," Aoi said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Now it's your turn."
Akira adjusted a pair of lensless glasses he'd put on to look smarter. It didn't work.
"Alright, my turn. Prove to me your administration is as big as your bra size."
Aoi recoiled in a mix of disgust and fury, as if she'd just seen an offensive billboard.
"How's Greenhill's fiscal balance doing?"
Aoi's whip cracked sharply.It struck Akira's podium, causing a brief but effective burst of flames.
"I don't care if you ogle me obscenely," she snapped, "but I will not allow you to question my administrative skills."
She turned to the audience with conviction.
"We've achieved a fiscal surplus, a 15% rise in well-being, and every elder in the village gets a cup of honey tea every Tuesday afternoon."
Akira stared at her, genuinely impressed.
"Wow… she really takes her job seriously."
"The villagers don't think much of her," Minu admitted, making mental notes, "but she does seem to have the books balanced."
Akira's DP: 5000
"Akira, get serious," Minu said, spinning in place. "At this rate, you'll end up as rotisserie chicken."
"Was that a joke? Because of the fire?"
"Indeed. You caught me."
Akira ignored the bad pun and locked eyes with Aoi, who now wore a smug smile. Her whip sparked ominously, her stance that of someone who had already won morally.
"I end my turn… by placing one argument face-down."
Silence.
The villagers glanced at each other. A few pulled out popcorn. No one could tell if that was a joke, a brilliant strategy, or the beginning of an even greater collapse.
The first round was over. And Akira was still losing.
Aoi turned on her heels with the grace of a blade and raised her hand to begin her second turn.
"Second argument," she declared. "Greenhill has advanced thanks to a value system rooted in collective effort, discipline, and transparency."
A soft sigh was heard among the villagers. Someone clapped with a single hand.
"Meanwhile," Aoi continued, pointing at Akira, "Faralight hasn't just been neglected for decades—it's now led by someone who mistakes romantic quotes for government strategies."
Minu leaned toward Akira.
"I'm honestly surprised she hasn't brought up your ability to trip over your own words."
"I'm waiting for her to save it as the final blow," he muttered, eyes downcast.
Aoi raised her whip to punctuate her point.
"My argument is simple: I don't need allies who don't believe in hard work—especially not ones who say 'next question' in the middle of a debate."
Her DP surged to 9200. The invisible jury celebrated with a well-coordinated bleating chorus.
Akira swallowed hard. He readied himself to strike back.
SPN: Auto-suggestion activated — "Trigger Rom-Com Argument with Unnecessary Metaphor."
"Huh? What? I don't want to use that…"
SPN: Failure to comply will result in a shower of emotionally heavy plush toys upon your head.
"WHAT THE HELL IS 'EMOTIONALLY HEAVY' SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!" he yelled, but it was too late.
Minu shot him a death glare.
"Do what the system says. You're in the red zone. Literally."
Akira stepped forward. He removed his fake glasses, putting on his serious drama face—though the frame had left a red mark on his nose.
"Greenhill… is strong. No one denies that. But even the oldest trees need shade when the sun burns too hot."
Silence.
"…What are you even saying?" Aoi asked, clearly confused.
"What I'm trying to say…" Akira took a deep breath, like he was about to launch a super move, "…is that sometimes, a ridiculous comedy like Faralight might be exactly what a perfect village needs to avoid becoming… boring."
Aoi narrowed her eyes.The crowd murmured.A piglet sneezed.The air grew heavier.
Akira raised his hand, ready for the final punchline:
"And that's why I propose that…"