A Slave Career Planner Can Be A Successful Profession

Atrophy.

Sparring, which looked like a simple ring in the tent, didn't go any better than Chitta thought. My body is heavy and I don't feel more affordable than I imagined.

I have punched in several times. I have punched in many times. Upper to the jaw by hitting the body and having the guard lowered. Chitta continues her foolish methods of warfare on Stone Street.

But it's not working.

The female fistfighter (Kathy) in front of her is hard as a rock. The body aim blow also guards accurately and is inhibited by the feel of hard muscles even by tapping the flank from the gap of the guard, taking advantage of the footwork.

Isn't the attack working at all?

The unpleasant feeling that floats in the back of my brain creeps away from me earlier.

(Focus!

Encourage yourself and once again foolishly left-jab and right-straight one-to-blow. If it's not working, I can only do more. It's only that simple when it comes to what Chitta can do.

Don't make a fuss, don't force yourself.

The voice of a merchant giving instructions from the field. My body doesn't obey even though I know it by my head.

Chitta is in a hurry at the boulder that soars in front of her.

(Is it to this extent)

Was it an illusion that I thought I was stronger? Only nasty words came up behind Chitta's brain one after another. The sensation transmitted to the fist is very far away. Was it thoughtful that we came a little closer?

A hurry quickened my fist.

I roughed it up for that.

Fist flashed.

I noticed my vision shake and my knee fluttered and broken like that feeling of my brain being shaken directly. He said he was fisted out of his jaw.

My vision dimmed, and I mixed a glocky feeling with a fluttering and floating feeling.

I can't stand.

That's all Chitta understood. The deception.

He said he got stronger in a month. Where will I say that I have become stronger?

……

I felt like I woke up.

This is what I'm talking about. It seems as stupid as you'd expect. Emotions similar to such a renunciation struck Chitta for a moment.

Why are we fighting?

The moment I questioned why, I thought Chitta was a bad idea. I had a bad feeling something was going to break.

I stand up forcibly exciting myself.

The count is probably taken more than ten. In this situation of losing if the actual boxing tournament, Chitta nevertheless stood up not to give up.

Chitta felt like she was going to bite her teeth to resemble this sentiment of not giving up.

"More than I ever imagined."

Did my crush sound like the little ones beside me? Nell, who has too much imagination and sensitivity, has been in tears since just now. Ili looks to him silently, and Uffi is eating his teeth away with a rugged face.

I wondered why these people were so attracted to me. I had the same Stella and eyes that I was thinking about. Stella, smiling bitterly, was stroking all three. Is it to calm me down?

(Thought emotion was something I was doing alone)

Is it because I've still seen you practice in a tent with him for a month? The slaves watching the game were sympathetic to Chitta.

Strong figure.

Encouragement appearance when it comes to practicing.

That was the case when it came to Chitta.

Such a chitta had now broken her knee and lay on the ground for the fourth down.

That strong chitta.

It's a bit of a shock. It is also a symbolic sight in a sense.

The slaves seemed to be paying attention.

Or maybe I can't keep my eyes open.

A symbol.

It is a symbol that even if the slaves themselves work hard, it is this chitta of the moment, only to be laid back by what is excellent on its path. There may be slaves who see it that way.

(No, you must think too much)

No one should be so many slaves with such an extremely pessimistic mindset. There may be slaves who think so, keep them in the corner of their heads to an extent.

I stopped thinking.

That's just what I thought. It's my own imagination.

On the contrary, of course, that's what I came up with, which means that the slaves could think the same way.

than that.

(Chitta, the battle starts here)

What mattered was Chitta.

It's where Chitta, who praised me for being so strong and confident, gets so much damage to her heart.

To be honest, it was more than I expected.

I've been saying to Chitta, "You're stronger, of course, but you're going to make it to the semi-finals, and you're going to win."

And in fact, Chitta got stronger.

However, the enemy was stronger than expected. I'm still convinced I'll make it to the semifinals, but I think the chances of being able to win may have been a little too sweetly estimated.

It was too strong.

The physique difference was still huge. If you have more muscles, your defense is thick, and you exercise fast, contrary to your appearance. Essentially, physical differences are proportional to reach, destructiveness, and speed just as they are.

The result would be that Chitta would be staining herself and feeling it now more than anyone else.

"... that's spectacular, Lord.... Chitta, aren't you fighting crying?

"Oh. We'll put in a break once we're down for the fifth time."

To Meena's whining, it was time for me to feel the limits. Objectively from the outside, you know there's no point in fighting any more.

I don't seem to be the only one.

Chitta's knee collapsed.

"That's it!

I stood up and broke into the game.

Apparently she noticed, Kathy was holding her hand at that stage. He looked at me and laughed bitterly, "You're late."

The trick seemed as if Chitta had never won, and I only had an eclampsia for a moment, but I even nodded at her words on the other hand.

I just wanted to believe it.

That line was about to come out with my mouth on it, but I replaced it with another word.

"How was it, Mr. Cathy?"

"... Was that an earlier fist fight?

"Yes."

Were you strong?

I couldn't say that, but I wanted to hear the answer.

Instead, I turned head-on against Kathy. I couldn't breathe because of the great intimidation.

"No, I was strong. It was a kind of atmosphere with a strong penetration into sports. Beautiful posture."

"... Really?"

"Simply because I'm a veteran this time, I was mean enough to rub some new rice. You're gonna be strong, this girl."

"... thank you"

Sports. Let's rub it. Mean.

The words released from Kathy were all words that praised Chitta on the face, but the nuances drifting across all three of these words do not acknowledge that they are reciprocal.

Chitta wasn't on par with Kathy.

I stared at Kathy.

It would be great for a one-month burning blade.

I took her seriously again, but it's called physical development, it's called drifting intimidation, not alongside much.

If I were given the same month, I would be asked if I could sparkle with this Kathy like I did earlier.

It's good. Praising Chitta is so much to blame.

But what will it be when you tell it? I was just told by Kathy that she would be strong, and what would it be?

I felt like grabbing my ankle. When I looked downstairs, I couldn't help but notice that Chitta was only half-faced.

Only my lips whispered, let me fight again.

"... let's take a break. Even if you keep going, you should think about it a lot after you've rested."

When I could forgive her, Kathy bowed her head in apology.

"Uh, sorry, Mr. Toshiki"

"Oh, would Mr. Cathy have been inconvenient"

"No, we still have a little time, but it's time to go to the store"

Really? I'm sorry about this.

After I answered that, I redirected Kathy back to the tent. I re-guided her and then recommended Cathy some tea and had just a little chat.

I cared about the chitta behind me when I followed the tent I did sparring to guide me. I cared, but I left it to the slaves for a while now.

We'll see how it goes later. "Say hello to that girl, she was strong," Kathy smiled as she conveyed that idea.

I'll tell you what, I think my voice I returned was a little out of tune with the sales voice.