Warworld

These fanatical alien spectators once again redefined Jay's understanding of the word "crazy." Their enthusiasm for Warworld's competitive events went far beyond anything that word could describe. As Jay was swept into the arena amid a tide of alien creatures of unknown species, he had to grip Kara's hand tightly to keep them from being separated by the crowd.

This enormous arena had spectator stands on three sides, forming a semicircle around the central gladiatorial pit. At a rough estimate, there were no fewer than ten thousand seats. The floor was covered in pale metallic plating, while a circular laser barrier stood around the field, sealing off the arena like an invisible cage. It restricted the contestants' freedom while keeping the spectators safe. On the innermost side, where there were no spectator stands, rose a pale golden tower. A square observation platform protruded toward the arena—it was the VIP section with the best view of the battlefield.

But not just anyone could enter that tower. Its purpose was not merely to provide a good viewing angle. It was the building where all the power of Warworld was concentrated, containing the launch controls for every weapon aboard this cosmic fortress. Compared to the United States, its status was equivalent to the White House—if not greater.

More importantly, it was also where all the prisoners captured and brought to Warworld to participate in the games were held. That made the building the main target of Jay and Kara's mission.

The two first found an inconspicuous corner in the stands and sat down without drawing attention. Around them were aliens brimming with excitement. The host of the match resembled a pink primate, except his mouth looked like a suction cup and kept twitching up and down as he delivered the opening remarks. Jay was extremely curious how he could produce such clear sounds with a mouth like that. Perhaps his vocal mechanism was different from a human's.

After a brief opening speech, the host began introducing the contestants. Jay soon saw Drago, the fighter the hulking alien at the entrance had mentioned, who was about to challenge for his tenth consecutive victory. He really did look like an extraordinary warrior. He wore a steel helmet with a single horn and was blind in one eye. A deep, horrifying scar ran across his tightly shut eyelid. When the host announced his name, he raised the battle-axe in his hand and roared at the top of his lungs, setting off another wave of excitement among the crowd.

The shouts of more than ten thousand alien spectators made Jay feel as though his eardrums were vibrating, leaving him restless and irritated. But when he instinctively glanced at the girl beside him, he inexplicably calmed down.

"So, does this count as a date?" he asked half-jokingly.

Kara gave him a somewhat surprised look, her expression turning slightly awkward. "Maybe. I guess it does."

While the host introduced the next contestant and the audience cheered excitedly, the two got up and slipped toward the innermost tower. Not a single spectator, busy shouting and cheering, noticed their movements. It had to be said that the big guy they had met at the entrance had predicted things quite accurately. The match ended just as they silently took down the guards and slipped into the tower with Super Speed. The whole process had taken less than a minute and could hardly be called an exciting duel. The alien, whom folk legends described as having three heads and six arms, lasted only ten exchanges beneath the heavy axe of the undefeated Drago before being beheaded. It had taken less time than smoking a cigarette.

The audience cheered wildly as the invincible Drago once again defended his victory, but they were also furious that the long-awaited match had ended so abruptly. They loudly protested, demanding that the next challenger at least last more than thirty moves against Drago. The impassioned crowd kept making noise for quite some time and showed no intention of leaving until the host, under a barrage of spittle, promised that the next match would absolutely feature a top-tier ferocious creature from across the universe. Only then were the spectators willing to depart.

Inside the protruding VIP platform on the inner side of the arena, an adviser in a tall hat stood respectfully beside a throne, holding a tablet-like terminal as he reported, "The people are beginning to lose patience. Your approval rating is steadily declining. If we still cannot present sufficiently exciting matches, the people may..."

He stopped cautiously, as if afraid of touching upon some taboo. The giant on the throne leaned forward. His skin was earthy yellow, his face vicious and intimidating, and his eyes were a dangerous blood-red, gleaming with a mix of ferocity and cunning.

"Then what?" he asked in a low voice, as muffled as thunder buried deep within heavy clouds.

"Rebel," the adviser said carefully. "People have already begun discussing it."

"Hmph. They won't." The burly monarch rose to his feet and walked to the window, looking down over the empire beneath his rule. "Not as long as we can guarantee an uninterrupted stream of exciting battles. Those humans from Earth assured me that they could transform humans into powerful fighters. That project can solve our problem once and for all."

"With all due respect, the modified subjects they have brought into the arena so far have all been utterly worthless. They cannot even withstand a single blow from Drago's axe."

"Then give them a death order!" the monarch snapped impatiently, raising his voice. "Tell them they must produce something capable of lasting at least thirty rounds against Drago before the next match begins. Otherwise, those Earthlings can perish along with their research!"

The adviser hurriedly lowered his head, almost wishing he could press his forehead to the floor. "Yes, I will deliver the message immediately."

Keeping his head lowered, he quickly backed out of the room without daring to raise his eyes. Only after the automatic doors shut completely, cutting off the imposing figure behind them, did he straighten up. He adjusted his collar and strode through the winding corridors until he arrived at a certain door. Taking a deep breath, he unlocked it and entered with his head held high, his eyes nearly rolling to the top of his head.

When he saw him enter, the Black man who had introduced himself as Kevin Morgan when Jay had encountered him at Kairi Technology Creative Company hurried over with an obsequious smile. "We have already made tremendous progress. The previous two test subjects both demonstrated first-rate physical strength and endurance. Rest assured, we guarantee that within a month, we can create a creature capable of fighting that undefeated alien gladiator."

"Too slow." The adviser's face was stern, and he looked completely different from before in his arrogant manner. "The master has given his orders. It must be completed within one week, before next week's duel."

Kevin's expression changed drastically, though he struggled to maintain his smile. "Next week is indeed a little too tight. How about two weeks? Just two weeks. We will find a way to finish it no matter what!"

"I said next week means next week. This is the master's final order." The adviser snorted. "He said that if you cannot meet the requirements within seven days, you can perish along with this project."

With great swagger, he tossed out the problem, turned, and swept his sleeve as he strode away, leaving the person in charge standing there with an extremely ugly expression. Their progress was already behind schedule, and Warworld's ruler had repeatedly expressed dissatisfaction with their delays. Besides, Kevin still had not dared to report that two superpowered teenagers had broken into the headquarters of Kairi Technology Creative Company on Earth. Based on what he knew of this ruler, he felt that the man might crush his head on the spot.

His assistant quietly walked up behind him and asked in a low voice, "What do we do?"

Kevin glared at him irritably and barked, "What do we do? What else can we do!? We speed things up. We'll correct the minor adjustments directly during human testing. If God blesses us, maybe we can still catch up."

He let out an irritated snort and quickly walked to a tightly locked door deeper inside the laboratory, unlocking it with swift movements. The room beyond was so dark one could barely see a hand in front of one's face. The moment the door opened, a choking stench wafted out, making it seem like a moldy wine cellar. Exhausted-looking people lay scattered across the room, their hands and feet shackled in heavy chains. When light shone through the crack of the opened door, they instinctively curled up and avoided it, retreating into the dark corners.

These were the people captured from Earth. Kevin was considering which two test subjects to take out when two strange sounds suddenly came from behind him, interrupting his movements. He had no choice but to turn around and see what had gone wrong in the laboratory. Peering half his head through the open doorway, he was stunned to discover that everyone in the lab had collapsed unconscious in the past two or three seconds. The two superpowered teenagers had appeared in the middle of the laboratory as if they had sprung out of thin air, their blazing red pupils fixed on him with a gaze that seemed to contain thousands of degrees of heat.

"We meet again, buddy." Jay clenched his fists and said coldly, "Miss me?"