War Paradise

Speaking of the seven large-scale arenas in the city, in addition to the largest "Colosseum Royale" that cannot be shaken, the other six smaller-scale arenas have always been in cruel commercial competition.

Even if the citizens are very fond of the "entertainment" of gladiatorial fighting, the number of spectators is still limited after all. How to surpass other arenas in terms of the number of visitors and turnover, and get out of business wars, has always been a major issue. The most concerned issue of arena managers.

These unscrupulous businessmen who organize living people to fight with walking corpses and make money through bloody life-to-death battles are naturally unethical. In order to defeat competitors, they have basically used any method:

Spreading bad rumors about other arenas around is just a common method. In order to reduce attendance in other arenas, these merchants also hire assassins to disguise themselves as spectators, assassinate innocent spectators in other arenas, and poison public water sources. Even tried to assassinate the managers of other arenas.

The competition between these arenas has gone beyond the scope of cruelty and reached the terrifying Realm. In order to avoid being assassinated by competitors, the managers of the arena are also heavily guarded, and there are guards to protect them anytime and anywhere.

At this time, the owner of the Caesars Arena was sitting in the dimly-lit office inside the arena building, using the light of the torch on the wall to read the text on a piece of parchment in his hand.

The manager of the Caesars Arena is a tall man with a small head. He wears a dark blue robe and hangs a lot of gorgeous gold and silver ornaments.

This person's face is sharp and angular, and it looks like the kind of decent hero character commonly seen in old movies, but it's a pity that he has a blessed figure, which reduces his handsomeness a lot.

Although this arena was established, he actually didn't like watching gladiatorial fights, just for making money. Because of this, he did not go out to watch the game, but continued to stay in the office to check the documents at hand.

Several silver-armored soldiers leaned against the wall without saying a word, ready to draw their swords out of the sheath to protect the "boss" of this arena. Regarding the combat effectiveness of these guards, managers are still very relieved.

However, the situation in the arena tonight seems to be something wrong.

Hearing the sound of discussion and quarreling from the auditorium in the arena, the middle-aged man sitting in the office was about to order the guards to go out and have a look, when there was a sudden knock on the black wooden door.

The two soldiers walked forward without saying a word, and while opening the door, they drew their daggers and pointed them at the man standing in the corridor. The unkempt man raised his hands in fright and shouted: "I'm here to report the news, it's not good!"

The manager motioned to the soldier to put down his sword, sat behind the wooden table with his hands under his chin, stared at the staff member who was emitting a foul smell, and asked in a deep voice, "What happened?"

"Master Hogart, the'Huns' you rented from the Alexandria Arena are totally unbearable for the spectators. They are already leaving the arena!" The staff cried and said, "If you don't stop the game now, the comments on the Caesars Arena The number of viewers will drop!"

Hearing this, the arena manager called Hogart not only didn't panic, but instead waved his hand lightly as if he had expected it a long time ago: "I know, you can leave."

"But..." What else the man who came to report wanted to say.

"Okay, I said I know." Hogart added impatiently: "The game continues, no need to notify me."

After finishing speaking, before the staff member could speak, the two soldiers who had understood the "superior's wishes" had already closed the door heavily, shutting out the person who came to report the letter.

Looking up at the wooden door of the office, Hogart's handsome face slowly twisted, revealing a sinister smile.

In fact, renting the "Hun" from the Alexandria Arena was part of his conspiracy to bring down the Alexandria Arena. What happened now was completely in his expectation!

According to the newly revised management rules of the Colosseum, if a gladiator kills an audience in the arena, the arena that owns this gladiator will be fined. If there are too many casualties, they may even be disqualified from continuing their business and be forcibly demolished by the army.

The problem is that the target of punishment written in this management rule is "owning the arena of this gladiator" rather than "the arena where the accident occurred."

Now Hogart doesn't worry about what will happen in the arena, and even hopes that the audience will die in the hands of the Huns. After all, even if the spectators were killed in the Caesars Arena, the punishment would only be the owner of the "Hun"-Alexander Arena!

The current undead gladiator—the Huns is still a gladiator belonging to the Alexandria Arena, but was temporarily loaned to the Caesar Arena. This is clearly stated in the contract signed by both parties:

Thinking of this, Hogart once again took out the papyrus he used when signing the lease contract, and began to confirm that he had confirmed it dozens of times on the paper, and it was almost foolproof text:

"The Alexandria Arena, now the'Hun' is temporarily leased to the Caesars Arena."

Hogart was quite sure that this should be on the paper, but when he picked up the papyrus and saw the text on it, he was suddenly stunned, because the text on it had become:

"Alexander Arena, now the'Hun' is used by the Caesar Arena."

"what?"

Hogart furrowed his brows and looked at the blank space where the words "tentatively leased" were supposed to be, and then looked at the black texture on the back of the paper. He suddenly realized that the situation was not good, and his face immediately turned into a bitter gourd shape.

——The words on the contract do not seem to be written in ordinary ink.

Although Hogart didn't have much research on this aspect, he knew very well what it meant to him if the Huns killed the audience after the words "temporary lease" disappeared.

"Are they cheating me..."

Hogart stood up with frowning brows, pushed open the door roughly, dragged his bloated body, and ran forward along the corridor. The body left a huge silhouette under the torch:

"Notify the soldiers to stop the game immediately and let the spectators leave the field immediately, hurry up!" he shouted angrily.

Although this will hurt the Caesars Arena, but now it can't manage that much!

Hogart's orders soon began to be implemented in the arena, and the soldiers who had tried to maintain order in the arena instead began to guide the audience out of the arena. More than a dozen elite and heavy-armored soldiers with heavy weapons in their hands also rushed into the arena decisively, intending to subdue King Youxian who was still howling in the arena.

"The game is over, now exit!" a soldier shouted.

Then, the soldier's neck became hot, and a pang of pain ran throughout his body, and the terrible feeling of suffocation made him knelt down while clutching his neck.

He has his throat cut!

Before the other heavy armored soldiers even turned around, they heard a gloomy voice from behind:

"The game... has just begun."

While speaking, a scarlet light lit up in Lin Chi's sight, and a line of red reminder text appeared in his sight:

"You have gained the life of one person. Before this life, you were a soldier in the Caesars Arena. The passive skill triggered makes your strength and agility 3 points each. This effect will last for five minutes."

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