As the others went about pulling together their teams, Hugo watched stone-faced, ready for the action to begin. A giant spider-construct he did not expect, but it made little difference. He'd just need to be aware of its size and speed, particularly if that Hiyori girl showed herself to be the rushdown type. If she put her partner's legs to work carrying its size straight at him, things could get rough, but how would she know to target him? He eyed Emi as she unveiled Viscera, contorting the disturbing thing into a combat-ready form. Nobody would be rushing him down until those two, the more active and obvious threats, were dealt with—at least, if the other teams had any tactical bones in their body.

They wouldn't realize the true threat until it was too late.

A few seconds later the three-for-all began. Hiyori's spider thundered forward, making Hugo agitated for a moment, before stopping in the center of the clearing. Were he not so focused, Hugo might have nodded in approval. Not only did her move -making herself into a centralized hazard- shine of intelligence, but it also ironically meant her downfall. No defensive stratagem could stand up against his trump card. Chidori's Nehla and Emi's Viscera went to work, their energy no doubt meant to secure victory in an impressive display of skill and strength. While they seized his enemies' attention, Hugo had other plans.

He clenched his jaw and deftly swerved to the right to avoid the incoming venom blob. While its arc and composition left him a manageable amount of time to avoid it, he nevertheless felt his pulse begin to pound, and wrestled down the urge to retreat. Calmly, he tapped Hume's body, signaling the time to begin. “Ten-second dose,” he murmured. “Usual plan. For whoever's last, do the thing.” Instead of confirming his instructions via words, Hume simply opened his mouth. His spherical body split in jagged half, revealing a gigantic maw in his belly, and from its lips issued a great fog. In a matter of moments it filled the whole clearing like a smokescreen, but despite appearances it was far more than just a cover.

It took just one breath to begin feeling the symptoms, for enemy and ally alike. Adrenaline and excitement would begin to drift away, like a lost dream. Muscles slackened, joints loosened, and concentration lapsed. Those with the presence of mind, self-awareness, and lack of distraction might catch on after just a few seconds, clamping a hand or arm or garment over their noses and mouths to stop the haze from flooding their minds, but those who did not found their strength leaving them. Each second of exposure made it harder to maintain composure. After ten seconds, those who'd taken enough of Hume's mist would find it impossible to stand, let alone fight. Through the fog came Hugo's icy tone, tempting them to sink deeper and deeper. “It's too late for you. There's no point in continuing to struggle. Just relax. One loss isn't a big deal. You'll win your next fight, so don't worry about this one. Stuff like this just happens. No hard feelings, just let it go...” A bright white cord arced through the mist, cracking like a whip. Hugo, immune to his partner's sedative, targeted any opponents trying to cover their noses and mouths, aiming to sting them until they were forced to let go and let Hume's mist seep in. This was the rare but terrifying tactic Hugo employed to secure his continued presence at Geiru: Whiteout.