Dimensional Descent

"Shut up."

Manson steadied herself. Despite the fact she was bare foot, one would have thought with the way she was stumbling around that she was wearing the highest of heels. One could only imagine how hard the liquor she was drinking had to be to put a Fifth Dimensional expert like herself in such a state.

The three men who followed to Manson's back looked at each other and shook their heads. Clearly, Manson had been called up during her leisure time, but when was it ever not her leisure time?

Their special team was basically on call at all hours of the day and were a trump card unit of the Milky Way Guild.

Adrian. A short man that hardly came up to Manson's shoulders. As though his genes didn't give him enough of a terrible set of cards, he was also balding at his crown and couldn't seem to afford a wig that didn't flap with his every moment.

His codename was Shadow Rat.

Ru. An average looking man with two pistols strapped to his waist. One would have thought that he had come right out of an 80's era cowboys' movie. Everything from his boots to his hat fit the bill, even his twin guns had a retro feel to them as they sat in their holsters.

His codename was Double Shot.

Son. He was the tallest of them all, even towering above Manson who was second. He had deep bags under his eyes that made it look like he hadn't shut them for some sleep in his entire lifetime. The discoloration was so jarring that it even appeared that he had suffered two blows to the face.

His codename was

And then there was Manson, the stumbling drunk. One wouldn't be surprised if her codename was something like Drunken Fist. But, in a feat of unoriginality, Manson chose the codename Drunken Feet for herself, not that she ever cared to use it. Everyone seemed to know her real name despite the fact the code was supposed to have been there to protect her.

At that moment, though, the bottle of alcohol in her hand suddenly felt to the floor. The glass shattered and the brownish gold liquid flew in all directions, creating a puddle of booze and shards.

However, as though she wasn't worried for her safety, Manson suddenly dropped to the floor, her palms slamming into the shattered glass.

She glided forward on all fours, her bare feet eventually skidding through the mess.

The three men didn't seem too surprised by what was happening. The fact Manson was practically sniffing around like a dog right now didn't perturb them in the slightest. Instead, they leaned back and enjoyed the view of her ass sticking in the air, taking in the good of the moment and not thinking too much.

"You think it's gotten bigger?" Shadow Rat asked, pulling his wig down out of habit.

"They say alcohol makes you fat. Manson's always getting fat in all the right places." Double Shot replied in affirmative.

"Except her chest," Shadow Rat pointed out.

"You sure have a lot to say for a baldy."

"A man's value is beyond his looks!" Shadow Rat snapped.

"Sure, sure. I'll believe you when you finally get laid without having to pay for it."

The mutual appreciation soon became bickering. Though stood between them, feeling their loud voices jar his eardrums and even their spittle bounce across his cheeks, he didn't move a single inch nor say a single word. He was just too tired to and couldn't be bothered.

While they were arguing, he was just enjoying the nice view, his mind thinking thoughts no one would ever know of.

'… Almost there… Almost there… Almost there…'

Manson suddenly came to an abrupt halt. Her nose, which had been in the air, angled downward with a sudden speed.

She stood on all fours near a burning trench left by the battle between Leonel and the miners. In fact, if one replayed the video and overlaid it with Manson's current location, it was the exact spot Leonel had used his Divine Armor to teleport and vanish.

however, wasn't focused on this at all. His mind seemed to be taking several mental pictures and storing them into his memory bank.

In that abrupt movement, a subtle flash of pink had been revealed. Clearly these two arguing bastards were missing the real show.

'… Nice, nice. A pair of soft nipples, that's rare indeed. Usually they're hard by the time she enters her battle state. This is definitely one for the memory bank…'

One would never think that the biggest pervert of them all was the man who hadn't said a single word from start to finish.

Manson leapt to her feet. Her palms, which should have been cut and bruised by the shards of glass seemed completely fine. And, her movements, which should have been sluggish and uncoordinated had suddenly become a little too smooth.

Her wardrobe malfunction seemed to fix itself. But, even if it hadn't, she would have probably been uncaring.

"Let's go." She spoke, stepping back onto the teleportation formation.

The three men followed after her, Double Shot and Shadow Rat still barking at one another while Panda's lazy eyes remained trained on her swaying bottom.

**

Back within the arena, an unexpected confrontation was taking place.

No one had moved or attempted to leave since these things happened for fear that it would be seen as a sign of guilt or involvement in these matters. As a result, many stayed in a state of limbo, though many in the crowd were beginning to get restless.

For obvious reasons, things were no longer being broadcast. The Milky Way Guild had no intention of showing off just how difficult it was for them to catch Leonel. And, even the blaring alarms had finally come to a stop, leaving everyone in a state of unknowing.

However, at that moment, while everyone was trying to remain blameless, a clash was occurring, the culprits of which were unexpected.

On one side stood Leonel's teammates. On the other stood Yuri and Aina.