It happened to be a cloudy day, and the woods were exceedingly dark, with heaps of dead branches and rotting leaves piled across the ground.
Curacao spent some time before finding her lost shoe in the pile of dead leaves. "...How did it get kicked so far away?"
Thinking back on what had just happened, she vaguely remembered that after someone had stepped her shoe off, they had kicked it away amid the chaos.
The thought immediately gave Curacao a bad feeling. Was all of this a little too deliberate?
Had that bastard Uzo secretly assigned her a role without her knowing?
"I really ought to thank him." Grumbling under her breath, Curacao hurriedly put her shoe back on.
Then she suddenly sensed something was wrong. Turning around, she saw that a figure had silently appeared on the empty path behind her.
—A samurai clad in armor, his face concealed, who had somehow left the group of samurai marching in the parade and returned here alone.
...And he was clearly here for her.
Curacao silently clenched her fists.
But just as she was about to throw a punch or a kick, she suddenly recalled something that unscrupulous Director had said: If I were you, I'd carry the image of a lawyer through to the end.
Curacao: "..." What did he mean, carry it through to the end? Was this exactly the situation he had been referring to?
A string of thoughts raced through her mind. Uzo had his own principles. He probably would not harm others with blunt, brainless instructions like "go step on a trap." That would take away far too much of the fun.
So... perhaps... she should first pretend to be a weak, pitiful, helpless female lawyer and see what this guy wanted?
Ever since Curacao