Earth, China.
Zu'an City.
Yanbei University, Teaching Building No. 5, Classroom 5402.
At the podium, the instructor, sporting a pair of dark circles beneath his eyes, listlessly fobbed the students off with a PowerPoint presentation.
Below the podium, nearly every student's gaze was focused on Zhou Zhe, seated by the window on the left side of the second-to-last row.
Two months earlier, a lofty voice had resounded across the globe.
It arrogantly announced that Earth had been added to the list of planets participating in the Cosmic Arena.
At regular intervals, It would randomly select a batch of "gladiators" from Earth to serve as Its entertainment.
It, not he!
The authority It displayed was practically divine!
No one knew Its name.
Clearly, the language It spoke belonged to none of Earth's linguistic systems, yet people from every nation in the world could understand Its meaning.
It soon proved through action...
That Its word was as good as gold!
Regardless of age, gender, race, or status!
Workers, farmers, executives of Fortune 500 companies...
American homeless men, Wall Street financial prodigies, ordinary office workers...
Scientists, 996 programmers, teachers, Japanese high school students, Hua shut-ins...
So long as they lived on Earth, so long as they were human, no one could escape the selection of Cosmic Gladiators!
By today, the Cosmic Arena had forcibly conscripted eight batches of Earthlings!
Each batch varied in size. The smallest had only five or six people, while the largest had over a hundred.
Statistics compiled by enthusiastic civilians showed that Earth had sent a total of 465 participants so far.
And those who had survived until today...
Numbered only seven in total!
A survival rate of 1.5 percent!
Zhou Zhe was one of the names on the ninth batch of conscripted Cosmic Gladiators!
The god, deeply versed in the principle that joy shared was joy multiplied, livestreamed every arena battle simultaneously when it began, forcing all Earthlings to watch.
After witnessing eight Cosmic Arena battles, no one held much hope for Earth's people anymore.
Compared to the vast majority of aliens, Earthlings held no advantage in physical fitness, knowledge, or combat experience.
In everyone's eyes, Zhou Zhe likely had only seven days left to live!
"Zhou Zhe... how pitiful."
No one knew who started it, but the instant those words left someone's mouth, the classroom erupted into noise.
"Do you think he can survive?"
"I heard the gladiators who survive all get superpowers as rewards!"
"Manipulating flames, flying with the physical body, frost power... It's practically a Devil Fruit with no side effects! I wonder if there are Sharingan, Byakugan, Reincarnation Eye, or Tenseigan? I want one so badly!"
"Bro, aren't the power systems in Huaxia mythology far better? Taotie, Kunpeng, the Great Peacock King, the Lingming Stone Monkey—any of them would be great! Even taking ten thousand steps back, the power systems in Battle Through the Heavens, Ever Night, and A Record of a Mortal's Journey to Immortality become invincibly powerful later on! If you like Western fantasy power systems, the Mysterious Sequence from Lord of the Mysteries is cool as hell too, okay?"
"Heh, what kind of stinking fish and rotten shrimp is Kunpeng? Weak as hell. Can it beat a ninja? Besides, who the fuck knows what Taotie even is? Never even heard of it! And turning battle qi into a horse? Are you trying to make me laugh to death?"
"This trash-talker really knows how to ruin the mood. Ignore him!"
"Zhou Zhe, listen to me! If you survive, remember to exchange your points for the cultivation system! That one can be taught to others!"
"Are you stupid? Exchanging for a Sword Cultivator path is the right answer! Fast cultivation, fierce combat power! Way stronger than traditional cultivators!"
"You talk like you've seen a cultivator before. You're just talking out of your ass..."
"Sword immortals are indeed handsome, with maxed-out style points and absurd strength, but spending points to tailor-make a supernatural system is the true kingly path!"
"Listening to you guys, I'm almost jealous of Zhou Zhe!"
"Tsk tsk... If you could trade places with him, would you?"
"Are you crazy? Of course not! I haven't lived enough yet!"
"Exactly! Fighting alien gladiators is no different from suicide! This damn death rate is even more outrageous than the legendary first-generation Main God Space. Who could handle that?!"
Standing amid the roaring classroom, the instructor helplessly shrugged. He glanced at his watch and sighed. "That's it for today's class. You all... study on your own."
With that, he quickly left the classroom.
The appearance of the Cosmic Arena had brought enormous changes to Earth.
Perhaps the number of people who died in the arena was far lower than those killed in traffic accidents or seasonal flu, but humanity's despair index had soared as a result. It seemed everyone had begun living even more "recklessly."
A professor in the prime of his life who suddenly announced his resignation.
A professional esports player who, in the middle of a life-or-death deciding match, suddenly rushed out of his booth to pk his opponent in person.
A top celebrity with massive popularity who publicly came out.
A programming big shot who told his boss to get lost and went on a spur-of-the-moment trip.
Zhou Zhe, the center of the discussion, finally snapped out of his daze.
"I... was selected?"
Zhou Zhe stared blankly at the black sword-and-shield pattern emerging on the back of his hand—it was the mark of a Cosmic Gladiator, a brand left by the god.
He raised his head, glanced at the clock hanging beside the projector, and silently calculated the time. "Five minutes have already passed since the ninth batch of selected people was announced!"
"In other words, I've already wasted five minutes."
Zhou Zhe abruptly rose to his feet, squeezed through the classmates swarming toward him, and staggered out of the classroom.
Inside the classroom, a girl wearing a gray long dress watched Zhou Zhe's departing back with a faint gaze. Her eyes flickered, her red lips clenched tightly, as though she were struggling with something.
Zhou Zhe passed through the tree-lined path, the artificial lake, and the East District cafeteria. He left the school gates, boarded City Bus No. 15, passed seven stops, and finally arrived home.
He went upstairs, took out his key, and pushed open the door.
When Zhou Zhe, whose mind was blank, came back to himself, he found that he was already sitting at home.
"I wasted another half hour!"
He instinctively clutched his hair, pain surfacing on his handsome face. "There isn't any time to waste!"
"No... I can't do this!"
"Haste makes waste."
"I have to calm down if I want any chance of surviving the Cosmic Arena seven days from now!"
With that thought, Zhou Zhe took a deep breath and held it in without releasing it. Only after a long while did he exhale the foul air.
His wildly pounding heart finally, barely, returned to its normal rhythm.
After pacing around the room for a while, Zhou Zhe dug out an old notebook coated in dust from the bookshelf and found a ballpoint pen.
"I'll imitate the method from Robinson Crusoe."
"I'll use a debit-and-credit table to analyze my current situation."
"First disadvantage: as an Earthling, my physical fitness is inferior to that of most alien races. A 1.5 percent survival rate is no joke!"
"Then, the first advantage: ever since the first Cosmic Arena battle was livestreamed two months ago, I began consciously training my physical fitness."
"Running, push-ups, squats, crunches, pull-ups, frog jumps, burpees..."
"At the very least, I took the initiative to train myself!"
"My endurance, agility, strength, and explosive power are all far greater than they were two months ago! My survival rate should definitely be higher than the average for Earth's participants!"
Thus, Zhou Zhe wrote down one disadvantage, then one advantage, over and over again. He hoped to sort out his thoughts, find a way to break the deadlock, and discover a method that would let him survive!
Just as Zhou Zhe filled two pages of paper, the door was suddenly pushed open.
A middle-aged man in a brown coat, his hair greasy, barged through the door.
He threw himself onto the sofa, reeking of alcohol.
This was Zhou Zhe's father, Zhou Yulin.
His gaze fell on Zhou Zhe's wrist. Seeing the Black Sword Shield Brand, he froze for a moment before drunkenly saying, "Hm? You brat... got conscripted?"
Every selected Cosmic Gladiator had been specially marked by the god. The instant anyone's gaze fell upon them, they would immediately receive that information.
The Cosmic Gladiator's brand could not be faked!
Those blasphemers who had attempted to fake it with tattoos had long since paid with their lives.
"Yes."
Zhou Zhe nodded. Looking at his slovenly father, there was a faint trace of expectation in his voice. "I might die in seven days, so..."
Before he could finish, Zhou Yulin let out a strange laugh, pulled out his phone, opened his friends' group chat, and began sending a voice message. "Brothers! My son Zhou Zhe has been selected as a Cosmic Gladiator!"
"The bookies are opening the odds now!"
"Bet on him living, one pays ninety-eight. Bet on him dying, one pays..."
The light in Zhou Zhe's eyes instantly faded. Expressionless, he tossed the notebook aside.
This man was indeed still that same drunkard and gambling addict.
Perhaps he never should have hoped in the first place.
"Son, you still have money left from your part-time jobs, right? Give it all to me!"
That was what Zhou Yulin said.
Zhou Zhe merely stared at him coldly without uttering a word.
Seeing this, Zhou Yulin's expression changed. As though he had thought of something, he immediately flew into a rage and roared, "Fuck! Don't tell me you spent it all on tuition!"
"You're about to die, so why the fuck did you pay tuition? More than ten thousand yuan, just gone down the drain? No! I'm going to demand an explanation from the school leaders right now!"
After spraying his spit everywhere, the middle-aged man shoved open the door and left.
Who knew how long passed before someone suddenly knocked on the door.
"Excuse me... is Zhou Zhe home?"
A girl's voice, crisp as a yellow oriole's song, awakened Zhou Zhe from his statue-like rigidity.
Yang Fan! Set sail!
The journey of stirring up trouble had begun!
Today was a good day!
May you be beaten by society for half your life, yet still return in time to celebrate Children's Day!
Keep your childlike heart, keep your joy~
Before you continue