A sudden flurry of whispers drifted through the canopy, sibilant as snakes.
"What's he doing now?"
"Is he really gonna fight that monster barehanded?"
"He might be crazy. Or just that confident. Maybe he's got a powerful clan behind him."
"Relax. After tangling with a berserk Metal Bear, he'll be half-dead—or just plain dead. Then we step in. And those ladies? Probably just his servants, with no real power."
"Heh… what about having fun with 'em first, then taking whatever we want?"
"Exactly. Kill the guy, snatch the bear's Spirit Artifact, and enjoy ourselves." Their voices turned low and oily, thick with lecherous glee.
Hidden in the dense foliage, two men in black cloaks surveyed the battle, eyes gleaming with greed. When they heard the roars and the clash of steel, they'd crept forward, drawn by the promise of loot and easy prey. One or two well-placed strikes after the fight, and they could clean up like vultures.
***
