"Decided by lottery? That sounded pretty fair."
Trainees were people too, and they needed rest. The special training camp's field combat exercises were exhausting, so whenever they had a chance to go ashore, Zephyr allowed them to take a break.
Zephyr trusted the island's safety, so he dismissed everyone and let them move about freely while he observed the distribution of the lottery tickets.
Everyone only had one chance. Since it was free, a stamp would be placed on the back of their hand after they drew once.
He had heard it was a special Piltover dye that would fade naturally after a few days. However, before the designated date, it would not fade unless they tore off that patch of skin.
"Are you going to draw one too? This event doesn't seem limited to their citizens. Tourists can participate as well."
Zephyr's wife had already seen through his thoughts and even urged him to try his luck.
"I'm too old for that. I'll draw one for Yeklik instead. He might be interested."
"..."
It did not matter whether anyone else believed him. In any case, Zephyr had convinced himself with that excuse and went to collect a lottery ticket as well.
Oran did not care if others entered Iron Oz's cockpit. There were only a handful of people capable of replicating it anyway.
Building a mech was not like assembling building blocks from a blueprint. Not only were Iron Oz's materials impossible for them to reproduce, but if someone really could build another one after merely looking at the cockpit, Oran would definitely find a way to recruit them.
Oran even believed that ordinary people would not understand the design blueprints even if they were laid out before them. That was his absolute confidence in his technology.
"Ah-choo!"
At