The Arena and Condemned Prisoners

The darkness receded like a tide.

Before Zhang Heng even opened his eyes, he heard deafening cheers and screams coming from overhead, mixed with the roars of beasts. One of those roars was very close to him, probably less than a meter away.

Even Zhang Heng, who was usually calm, was startled.

What did one meter mean? To a fierce beast like a lion or tiger, it meant a single pounce, arriving in an instant. If he had been prepared, Zhang Heng might barely have been able to dodge it. But he had no idea where the beast was, and after the five-second countdown ended, his eyes would still need some time to recover their sight. It would not take long, but in a situation like this, any delay could be fatal.

If things were really as he imagined, this could be considered a Door Opening kill with an infinitely high death rate.

Logically speaking, though, a dungeon instance, especially an ordinary one, should not begin with this level of danger, even if survival was its main objective.

The next moment, Zhang Heng's vision returned.

The first thing he saw was the lion before him. The earlier cheers seemed to have provoked it. It rose to its feet and let out a low growl, looking as though it wanted to attack Zhang Heng, but it could not get out of the cage confining it.

Zhang Heng sighed in relief, then noticed that he was standing in a dark, foul-smelling room.

The cheers continued to drift down from above. Beside him stood another person, holding a clay bowl filled with raw meat and staring fearfully at the lion in the cage.

Judging by his clothes, he was probably a slave, dressed in a short-sleeved tunic and sandals.

Zhang Heng discovered that