The arena was once a barbaric place for the sophisticated people of the ratmen village to gather in order to watch gruesome battles, cheering on as blood was spilled- each person hoping to see a look of despair in the losers face as they were brutally slaughtered.

When the owners of the factory- the Sponsors- were all found dead on the ground in the VIP room, the arena was shut down.

Without the backing of the sponsors, such entertainment would not be possible.

And so, the wealthy people of the ratmen village holed up in their homes, counting their coins and praying that things stayed as they were.

Unfortunately, they were not so lucky.

With the sponsors out of the picture, the members of the mafia were free to do as they pleased. This meant that those who were in the favor of the now deceased sponsors would no longer be receiving the same portions of the cities wealth as they were before.

This was especially true when a certain woman rose up as the leader of the mafia.

She came out of nowhere, but due to her dominating personality and charismatic beauty, she was easily able to take the number 1 spot in the ferret faction- even above the former boss, who yielded it to her without so much as a complaint.

Right now, the arena had been completely remodeled.

Instead of the barbaric sandpit, the floor and walls were now lined with metal plates. A retractable ceiling was built above the dome, which was currently closed.

In the center of the arena was a metal throne- however this was not just any metal throne. It sat on a stairway made of bronze, and beneath this stairway were a set of wheels.

The sounds of gears clicking and gaskets sputtering could be heard from the internal workings of the contraption.

It was a tank.

A mobile throne.

On it sat a woman who had the features of a ferret. Her mahogany fur seemed to glisten in the dim light of the arena as she sat with one fist to her chin, looking down upon the men who stood in front of her with a condescending frown.

Her bright red eyes shined like rubies, and as if they were a gem refracting light, they seemed to pierce through all those who dared to look her in the eye.

She wore a leopard mink scarf and a tight white dress, with black high heels on her feet.

Crossing her legs, she realigned herself and spoke.

"Why is it that beauty is subjective?"

Her words cut the air with a highly refined yet overly confident tone.

The men who stood in front of her- all of them being ferrets wearing high end suits and black fedoras- did not dare to speak back, for they knew that if they were being addressed, the woman in front of them would look into their eyes.

Right now, she stared off towards the portcullis at the entrance of the arena.

"If I were to ask ten people who the most beautiful woman in this city is, nine out of ten would unquestionably answer that I am the most beautiful."

The woman glanced down at the ground, as if she were staring at dirt itself.

"But the tenth person may argue that someone else is even more beautiful."

The woman's lips pursed with disgust as if she was about to spit on someone.

"You, come here.", she said while looking one of the men directly in the eye.

Her red eyes seemed to emit a small light before the man stood forward.

The woman hacked up a ball of spit and aimed it right at the man, hitting him right on the cheek.

"You may step back now.", she retorted with the bored wave of her hand.

The man stepped back, and lifted his hand up to wipe the spit off his cheek.

"Did I say that you could wipe that off?"

The man looked up before bowing his head to the woman.

"No, you did not, boss."

"And what makes you think that you are even worthy of placing your hand on that saliva, which contains my own DNA?"

The man bowed to the ground, even lower.

"Forgive me, boss. You are absolutely correct. I am not even worthy to be in contact with your saliva."

The woman smirked.

"Then you had better cherish that priceless gift which I have bestowed upon you. You over there. Bring a container here."

The woman spoke to a different man, who bowed his head before running off and bringing a test tube.

"I give you permission to store my saliva in that. Treasure it as if it were me. If I ever find out that you are mistreating a part of me, then I will take it as a slight to myself."

The man gratefully lowered his head before pulling out a handkerchief and wiping the spit up, then placing it inside the test tube and sealing it.

"Now then.... where was I? Ah, right. I was speaking of beauty, was I not?"

The men all nodded yes, and the woman continued her lecture while putting on a deceptive grin.

"Beauty is subjective. This is why it is possible for such a tenth person to exist who does not recognize my beauty."

The woman's eyes seemed to narrow and her face became tense.

She raised up her hand as she posed a new question.

"But does that mean that I am not the most beautiful person to exist? If 9 out of 10 people believe that I am the most beautiful person, then surely I am.... however, the fact that such a 10th person exists suggests that I might not be. That someone else out there might have beauty which rivals mine, at least in the mind of that one person."

The woman stood up gracefully from her seat and begun slowly walking down the stairs.

"However, when an objective question is asked, it is possible for someone to have an incorrect answer. If I were to ask someone 'What is the color of the sky?', then 9 out of 10 people might answer brown."

The woman spoke with class and haughtiness as she made her way down the stairway, taking each step with care so as to not trip on her own high heels.

"But there might be one fool somewhere who says it is blue."

Her eyes became mocking as the woman let out a high pitched laugh- one that was refined and fit for a woman of high society as she covered her mouth.

"What would we do with such a person? If they truly believe in such a delusion, then what could even be done? Their mind must be beyond the point of repair to be so incorrect about such a fundamental thing. Then, isn't it possible that this tenth person might also simply be a lunatic who is fundamentally wrong when it comes to my own beauty?"

The men around her stayed quiet but nodded one time in unison as the woman approached them, finally at the bottom of the staircase.

"But that brings up another question. If something truly is subjective, then that would imply that there is no right answer. If beauty is subjective, then there does not exist such thing as a person who is more beautiful than anyone else."

The woman weaved in and out of the men, and none of them even so much as dared to take a breath or move a muscle, for fear of being seen as out of place.

"Furthermore.... even if an objective answer does exist, isn't it possible that even the majority of people are wrong?"

The woman grazed the neck of one of the men with her sharp fingernails which were painted pink, creating a slight cut.

The man did not move, but made a single gulping sound.

"Do not treat that wound. Allow it to heal. When the scar forms, you may always find yourself remembering the one who made it."

The man nodded one time, and the woman continued walking through the crowd of people as a drip of blood made it's way down the mans neck.

"That is why I have given out such orders. If beauty is subjective, then there is no such thing as the most beautiful person in the world- aside from the person who is unanimously agreed to be so."

The woman smiled as she relaxed her eyelids, giving off a sense of satisfaction with the conclusion she had come to.

"When there is unanimous agreement upon a subjective topic, that which is agreed upon becomes an objective fact."

The woman put her hands behind her back and flirtatiously walked from man to man, looking them in the eyes with a smile that could be described as cute, and eyes that could be described as innocent- although the people here knew better than that.

"But... there is one problem with a subjective topic which turns to objective fact through unanimous agreement."

The woman walked back to the throne, and gracefully placed one foot above the other as she ascended before lowering herself once more to sit in the throne, crossing her leg and putting one hand to her cheek.

Her eyes became filled with a sad anger, as if she was speaking of something which she could not obtain but ever so desperately tried to grasp onto.

"A single thought of disagreement makes the fact invalidated, and it once more becomes nothing more than a subjective opinion."

It was at this moment that the portcullis began to open.

A group of 8 people made their way into the arena.

Six ferret men and two girls- one of them having features of a white mouse and the other of a light grey gerbil. The men surrounded the two girls and walked up to take their places next to the other men in the arena while leading the two forth.

The woman sitting at the top of the throne seemed to smile with delight on seeing these men enter.

"Al.... it seems that you've succeeded! You've brought me two beautiful little things. Well done, my dearest Al."

The man who was smoking the cigar tipped his hat towards the woman politely.

"I am glad to have assisted you, boss."

"I'll have to give you a reward. After all, if there are no more beautiful women in this city, then I will objectively become the most beautiful no matter what. Isn't that right?"

"Of course it is, boss."

The woman gracefully got up from her seat, carefully walking over to the two girls who had defeated looks on their faces.

"My my.... such beautiful faces, and yet you two seem so down. Is something wrong, my dear little sweethearts? What ever could be the matter?"

Lisa and Gina glanced up, making eye contact with the woman in front of them.

Her red eyes seemed to flicker with beauty as their eyes met, and the two felt paralyzed- completely overcome by this woman and unable to move.

"Al, my darling. Did you pick these girls out because you believed that they were beautiful?"

The man with the cigar froze at this question, unsure how to answer.

"While their beauty could not even compare to yours, it is theoretically possible that there could exist a person who would consider them to be more beautiful than yourself. Of course, such a person would be a tasteless fool, but..."

The woman held up her hand as she closed her eyes and smiled.

"I've heard enough, Al. So these two are within my own competition for the most beautiful woman in this city, no?"

Al nodded once, frozen in fear.

"Then, I will have to thank you for bringing them to me. Ah, here..."

The woman stuck her finger in her ear and picked out a piece of earwax, before smudging it onto Al's shirt.

"Now whenever you wear that shirt, you can keep me with you always. Never wash it again, and I had better not find out that you would do such a thing as throwing it away or not wearing it. Remember. There is a piece of me on it now. One that you must treasure greatly."

The woman then smiled angelically, as if her previous demeanor never existed in the first place.

"I'm so grateful, Al. You've gone and brought me these cute little girls. I suppose there could be someone who prefers this cute one, or maybe another who prefers this hard working type. She's covered in grease, but I suppose some men do like those sorts of things, don't they?"

The woman beckoned the two with her index finger.

"Follow me girls."

The two didn't have any choice but to listen. They were surrounded by a group of men who likely had weapons hidden under their coats. Even if they had no weapons, there was no way to escape a brawl where they were outnumbered so blatantly.

The two stepped forward, following the woman who's heels seemed to click and clack every time they touched the metal floor.

"I'd like to give you two a makeover. Gentlemen, won't you bring some seats for these two girls? After all, getting a makeover while standing up.... wouldn't that be uncomfortable?"

----

Mori woke up in a bed with a large amount of pain in his side.

As he opened his eyes and looked around, he realized that he was in his own room.

"Finally waken up, have we Mori?"

"You were sleeping for quite a while, Mori."

The door was open and the two men who were previously stationed by his grandfather's office were standing there with concerned faces.

"Where.... ugh...."

Mori grabbed his side to feel the bandages as he tried to sit up.

"You were shot with a new weapon called a firearm. We found out about their use just recently from your grandfather, but oddly enough when we found you the wound had already been treated."

"The strangest thing it was, to find you lying in the street with such a horrible wound only to learn that it had already been tended to."

Mori looked around and recalled the recent events.

"Lisa!!"

He got up immediately, throwing the covers aside and jumping out of bed, only to fall to one knee in pain.

"Urgh!!"

"Mori, you can't stand up so quickly!!"

"You need to stay in bed and rest!! That wound isn't deadly but if you aggravate it then it might get infected!"

The two rushed over and helped Mori back into the bed.

Mori cursed himself for being so weak.

"I.... they took Lisa away.... I wasn't strong enough to protect her.... I need to get her back. I need to!! Don't stop me!! I have to-"

Mori was met with a slap to the face.

"Don't think you can just do anything you want. You should know better than anyone that you are lucky to have gotten out of there with your life."

"Your grandfather is doing everything he can to save Lisa, but you can't do anything with those wounds. So sit back and heal up, or you'll get killed for real this time."

"You should understand how lucky you are that somebody happened to bandage your wounds. In this city doing something like that is unheard of."

The two walked out of the room and stood outside the door.

The room had no window nor an air vent, so Mori would not be able to escape. The two guarded the door- the only exit, and closed it to ensure that the young boy wouldn't do anything rash.

Mori turned on his side and the pain seemed to light up like a fire, and tears flowed down his eyes.

"Why.... I.... just wanted to.... we were just headed back home.... why was she taken? Why did you leave, Lisa? Why did you agree with them? Why didn't you just leave me and run!?!"

Mori stuffed his face into his pillow as he screamed in frustration.

"MMMMMMPHHHHH!!!!!"

----

Right after Lisa had been captured, she went along peacefully with Al and his men.

She didn't protest, nor did she try to escape or fight back.

"Thank you....", she whispered to the ferret who ordered Mori to be treated as the two girls were guided through the streets surrounded by six men.

"You don't 'ave anything to thank me for. We just kidnapped you and shot your pal. And I'll be honest, where we're taking you isn't gonna be a fun place. Our boss.... she hates your kind."

Lisa nodded her head.

"You're wrong. You didn't have to help out my friend and treat his wounds. Most people in your position wouldn't. But you did. You may be taking us to a bad place, but at least you aren't completely heartless."

Al took another puff of his cigar and chuckled at hearing Lisa say this.

"You're wrong, girl. If we didn't patch that kid up, would you have come with us so peacefully? Don't try to think of everyone as kindhearted. The world ain't such a nice place. I'm just doing what I need to do to survive. That's all. And killing that kid wasn't necessary."

Lisa wasn't convinced, but Gina, who had wiped her tears and accepted her fate, spoke up.

"What do you mean your boss hates our kind? Are you saying that your boss is a supremacist who considers the ferrets to be above the gerbils and the rats?"

Al laughed bitterly when he heard this, putting his hat over his eyes.

"If only it were that simple. When I said your kind, I wasn't referring to your race."

The two girls drew a blank as to what could have been meant by this.

Al pulled out a pack of cigars and opened the box, offering the two girls one.

"I'm too young to be smoking.", Lisa replied promptly.

"My body wouldn't be able to handle the factory work if I were to smoke.", Gina replied just as quickly.

Al shrugged and turned forward.

"Suit yourself."

As he continued walking, he seemed to look off into the horizon.

"Our boss hates women as a whole. Particularly the pretty ones. She's set on making it so that she is the only beautiful woman in existence."