Chapter Text
Stanley’s soldiers have spotted Suika, Ginro, and Matsukaze were tied up. Layla, crouching behind some bushes with François, felt her heart pounding against her ribs as she watched, panic bubbling inside her.
Ginro, who had clearly not adapted well to being captured, was the first to break the silence. His voice cracked with fear as he turned toward Matsukaze, his fellow captive. “Fu-re-zu?! What does that mean?!”
Matsukaze responded with a quiet tone. “I… I’m afraid I only have vague memories of this word. I believe ‘freezing’ is when water turns into ice…”
Ginro’s face went pale. “What?! Ice?!” He glanced around nervously, eyes darting between the soldiers. “Are they gonna turn us into ice cubes? Is that it?! I’m too pretty to freeze!”
Layla, hiding behind the trees, groaned in frustration. They don’t mean freezing literally, do they? No, they’re going to kill Suika… Her mind raced, the realization turning her stomach to knots. She turned to François, voice low and grim.
“Stanley’s soldiers… they’re military, right? They’re just following orders. They’re going to kill Suika if it helps them get what they want, even if she’s just a little girl.”
François’ normally calm demeanor flickered for a moment. “Not if we stop them first.”
Without a second thought, François reached into her bag and pulled out a small paring knife. Layla’s eyes widened. “Wait! Untie me first!” she hissed. But François was already making her move, flinging the knife with as much accuracy as she could muster—though accuracy was debatable in this case.
The knife sailed through the air with an almost comedic lack of grace, yet somehow—miraculously—Matsukaze, who had been silently observing the chaos, moved like lightning. Despite his hands being bound, he jumped up, slammed his shoulder into one of Stanley’s soldiers with such force that the man crumpled to the ground. Matsukaze then leapt into the air, catching the knife mid-flight.
However, rather than cut himself free, Matsukaze turned and swiftly sliced through Ginro’s ropes instead. He gave the cowardly blond a stoic nod. “I leave the rest to you, Ginro-sama.”
Ginro blinked at him, looking dumbfounded. “Wh—wait, what?! What do you expect me to do?!”
One of Stanley’s men barked, “The brat’s ropes are cut!”
But instead, Ginro curled into a ball, clutching his knees to his chest. Layla’s eye twitched in frustration. Really? She could feel the urge to punch him building within her.
But then, Ginro’s instincts must have kicked in—maybe it was fear, maybe survival—but he uncurled himself, grabbing a nearby long stick and swinging it wildly at the soldiers, managing to land several hits in his panic.
For a fleeting second, Layla felt an odd flicker of pride. Okay, maybe he’s not completely hopeless…
But that hope was short-lived. In a single, fluid motion, Stanley raised his rifle, aimed it at Ginro’s makeshift spear, and fired. The stick shattered into pieces. Stanley then leveled his gun at Suika, who had frozen in fear, her tiny figure trembling.
Layla’s breath caught in her throat. No. No, no, no!
She couldn’t stand by any longer. Suika was going to die if she did nothing, and that was unacceptable. Without thinking, Layla bolted from behind the bush, leaves and twigs tangled in her messy hair. Simultaneously, François also stepped out, both women moving in sync despite having no plan. They raised their hands, shouting in unison, “Stop!”
François, always quick to think on her feet, added, “We’re civilians!”
Stanley’d still had his gun trained on Suika. His men, momentarily thrown off by the sudden interruption, exchanged glances before recognizing one of them.
“Wait… Layla?!” several of them exclaimed in unison, clearly surprised.
Layla felt her blood run cold.
François, taking advantage of the distraction, stepped forward, her voice steady. “Suika-sama is a field medic! She treated a passerby for a spider bite—fulfilling her duty as a medic. She’s been living here away from Senku-sama and the others for safety’s sake.”
Layla held her breath as François continued, “If you doubt me, you’re welcome to check her belongings. As for Layla-sama, she’s a hostage. We took her to keep her safe, far from the conflict between your groups. Neither of us is part of the combat unit. We have no intention of fighting.”
Stanley’s soldiers exchanged uncertain glances. Layla’s stomach twisted. Please… buy this, please…
François didn’t wait for a response. Her voice grew more forceful. “Knowing that, will you still execute us?”
The tension was unbearable. Layla’s hands were clammy, her pulse racing. She stared at Stanley, who hadn’t moved, his expression unreadable behind the mask.
After a painfully long pause, Stanley slowly lowered his gun. He reached up, unfastened his helmet, and removed it, his sharp gaze cutting through the silence. “If what you’re saying is true,” he said calmly, his voice cold and calculated, “then I won’t shoot.”
The atmosphere grew tense as Stanley’s men busied themselves with binding Suika and François. Layla, still standing awkwardly with her hands tied, tried to keep her breathing steady, but the entire situation was spiraling into a chaotic mess faster than she could handle.
Mark, one of Stanley’s squad members, looked at Stanley, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Mr. Stanley, are we going to untie Layla?” he asked.
Before Stanley could answer, Layla shot her response, her fiery temper flaring. “Of course you should untie me! Do I look like one of those idiots from the Kingdom of Science? I’ve been a prisoner in that terrible place for months!” Her voice was sharp, filled with all the fire they had come to know—and dread.
Stanley’s men shared a collective glance, beads of sweat rolling down their temples. One of them muttered under his breath, “Her temper hasn’t changed one bit…”
Ginro, who had been silently cringing from where he stood tied up, winced visibly at her outburst. “She… she reminds me of Kohaku…” he whispered, shuddering as if reliving some past trauma involving the fierce warrior woman.
Stanley, with an unreadable expression, gave a slight nod to Mark, who quickly moved to untie Layla. As her hands were freed, Layla rubbed her wrists and let out an exaggerated sigh, playing up her fake relief. But inside, her nerves were rattling. This is it… The real challenge starts now, she thought, trying to steel herself for what was about to come.
Maya stepped forward, turning to Leonard, who had perched himself in the treetops. “What did you find out?” she asked.
Leonard’s voice came from above, calm but sharp. “Francois sent a transmission.” He paused.
”Yes,” François interjected, voice steady despite the ropes binding her. “If it worries you, you’re welcome to check the content of the Morse code yourself.”
Stanley’s eyes narrowed at François, but he didn’t say anything. The tension thickened in the air as everyone waited for what would come next.
Layla’s heart thudded in her chest as her mind raced. She knew what had to happen now. You need to sell this, Layla. They trust you. You just have to convince them. Taking a deep breath, she turned to Stanley, her face tense with worry. “Stanley… we’ve managed to activate the Medusa devices. Senku’s team is planning to use them against you. They could petrify your whole squad.”
Her words dropped like a bombshell.
Stanley’s unit exploded into murmurs, shocked and panicked. “They’ve got petrification devices?” one soldier hissed. Another clutched his rifle tighter. “What do we do now?”
Layla’s stomach churned as she watched them, guilt gnawing at her insides. These people—people she had fought beside—were now her enemies, and she had to deceive them. She had to lie, to save her friends, but the weight of it was suffocating.
Stanley remained quiet through the panic, his face eerily calm, save for that one expression—the one Layla had learned to fear. It was his soldier’s expression, a mask of complete control, giving away nothing. She had seen him wear it around his enemies countless times, but now, standing before him, it felt like it was meant for her.
The silence stretched uncomfortably. Stanley’s piercing brown eyes locked onto Layla, and for the first time, she felt truly unsettled. Why isn’t he saying anything? she thought, her nerves fraying by the second. Why can’t I read him? Normally, Stanley gave her something—a glance, a nod, anything to let her know he trusted her, even slightly. But now? His face was a wall of stone.
Instinctively, Layla took a small step back, recoiling from his icy gaze. She was used to reading people. That was her strength. But now, faced with the silence and the cold look in Stanley’s eyes, she felt small. Vulnerable.
Then, finally, Stanley spoke. His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. “Tell me what you know about the enemy’s plan.”
Before Layla could respond, Ginro, still tied up, suddenly shouted, “Don’t do it, Layla! Don’t tell him!”
Matsukaze whispered nervously. “Be quiet please, Ginro-sama.”
But Layla ignored them both. She turned her full attention back to Stanley, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “Senku’s team is split into three smaller units. Each unit carries one of the Medusa devices or other scientific tools essential to their plan. They’re trying to keep them safe, scattered, to make sure you can’t capture everything in one go. Senku knows that your squad has superior firepower, so a frontal assault would be suicide.”
She kept talking, reciting the information as Senku had told her to. The lies flowed out, each word twisting her stomach into tighter knots.
Stanley’s team murmured amongst themselves, clearly impressed. A few even complimented Layla on her bravery and resourcefulness. Normally, she would have blushed, fought back the shyness creeping up her neck. But now? Now she had to fight back the overwhelming sense of guilt.
I’m lying to them. I’m lying to all of them, she thought bitterly. And they have no idea.
Stanley, silent through all the noise, finally stepped forward, the smell of the cigarette in his mouth penetrated her nose and she felt a strange longing for it. His expression was still unreadable, and Layla felt a fresh wave of panic rising in her chest. What’s he going to do? Did he buy it?
Stanley’s tall frame loomed over her, and Layla instinctively stiffened. She stared up at him, wide-eyed with curiosity and fear. Then, to her surprise, he extended his hand towards her.
Layla blinked, caught off guard. What’s this? Her heart raced in confusion. But then he spoke, and her blood ran cold.
“Hand me the gun I gave you five months ago,” Stanley said calmly, his voice as sharp as ever. “When I sent you to infiltrate the Kingdom of Science.”
The words hit her like a freight train. Layla felt the world tilt beneath her feet, and she instinctively placed her hand on her chest—where she usually kept the gun, and It is there. Her fingers brushed the spot, and then she froze.
Oh no.
Stanley’s eyes didn’t miss the motion. He watched, his gaze as sharp as a hawk’s, as she touched the place where her gun used to be. He had seen her hide it there before. He knew.
“I—” Layla stammered, her voice shaking slightly. “I… my gun… it was confiscated when the Kingdom of Science captured me.”
Stanley’s eyes narrowed, and Layla’s heart pounded so loudly in her ears she was sure everyone could hear it. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, took a step back, and for one awful second, she thought it was over. That he would let it slide.
But then Stanley opened his eyes again, and Layla felt her stomach drop.
His gaze was cold. Icy. The kind of cold that burned.
“Traitor,” Stanley said, his voice sharp and terrifying, cutting through her like a knife.
The word echoed in Layla’s mind, her world spinning. Everything felt far away, like she was falling into an abyss. It’s over, she realized. I’m finished.
Stanley had seen through her. And now there was no turning back.