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Reiss had been poisoned, likely by Viktor, but without solid proof of his involvement, there was reasonable doubt. Considering that the church and countless other spectators were betting on him, it could have easily been someone else. It seemed there was only one way for Noah to make the fight go how he wanted. He had hoped to avoid involving himself in the tournament like this, but considering how he screwed up Falco’s chances at revenge in the previous round, perhaps it was fitting he be the one to punish Viktor. He placed his hand on Reiss’s corpse and cast his cloning magic, taking on the dead man’s appearance. He then stuffed the body back into the closet, planning on dealing with it later.

They scoured the underground rooms and corridors, searching for Reiss. Noah checked the waiting and recovery rooms, eventually finding the man’s belt. He wouldn’t leave it behind if he had simply quit the tournament. He spotted a puddle of wine on the floor nearby, but no cup. Noah sniffed the wine and tasted a small drop, feeling his tongue burn. He looked around and noticed a broom closet with broken doorknob. Noah pried it open with his sword, and out fell Reiss’s corpse.“Of course,” Noah muttered.

“That’s funny, considering you look kind of like his wanted posters,” the bounty hunter replied, showing a flier with a sketch of Noah in his hat and coat.Noah, who had taken a seat at the bar and lit a gonlief cigarette, huffed in faux annoyance. “Insult to motherfucking injury. He stole my wife and my look, and now I got little shitheads mistaking me for the guy I plan on skinning alive.”“And who are you?”