A Desperate Gamble

Duke Zetton dearly wanted to tell Saga not to judge him by his Zetton face. Deep down, he had the heart of an Ultraman. He had long admired the legendary Land of Light, where, according to rumor, people never locked their doors at night, never picked up lost items from the road, loved one another, and most enjoyed helping elderly ladies cross the street. He dreamed of making his home beside the Plasma Spark Tower.

After thinking it over, Duke Zetton ultimately gave up. If he actually said that, he would definitely get beaten to death. The charge would be harboring ulterior motives, plotting to seize the Plasma Spark Tower, and attempting to overthrow the Land of Light.

Surrender was impossible, and Saga would never accept it. Duke Zetton knew that perfectly well. Though he had never killed an Ultraman, from the perspective of a warrior's honor, the Ultra Warriors who had fought him would have been better off dead. At least dying in battle would earn them the title of heroic martyr. Staying alive... he wondered how skilled the Land of Light's Proctology Doctors were!

If I went to the Land of Light, I could definitely dominate the proct... cough, cough, dominate the medical world!

Submerged beneath the sea, Duke Zetton let his thoughts run wild. He refused to fly out of the water, intending to stall out the three minutes and win without fighting once Saga ran out of power.

No, three minutes wasn't safe enough... Saga's Color Timer was such a huge lump that he could easily last three minutes without firing. He might very well be a real man who could last five minutes!

Saga looked down at the deep sea from the sky. His eyes sharpened, and he vanished from where he stood. The next