Meng Li had been considering leaving Silves City for another Great Soul Arena. After all, no battles meant no income. His team, both its members and himself, lived extravagantly off the prize money from the Great Soul Arena, and none of them wanted to be bound by any faction. That was why they had never joined one.
However, half an hour earlier, Meng Li had suddenly received word from the Great Soul Arena. A team actually wanted to challenge them—and it was a challenge across ranks. The news delighted Meng Li. He had never been a cautious man to begin with, and even a cautious Spirit Master would never believe that a team in their thirties could defeat a team in their forties.
If Spirit Masters with spirit duel badges had been allowed to place bets at the Great Soul Arena, he would definitely have wagered heavily on himself.
Meng Li had already gathered all his teammates and hurried toward the Great Soul Arena to claim their first income in half a month.
Besides income, there was also release.
Killing people—especially Spirit Masters—was itself a release and a pleasure for him and his mad-dog-like teammates. If they had not always lived within the Great Soul Arena's sphere of influence, they probably would have been killed by stronger Spirit Masters countless times already.
Meng Li's motto was to grow through slaughter.
He was thirty this year. He had even thought up his future title as a Titled Douluo: Dire Fiend.
Of course, he had some self-awareness. Becoming a Titled Douluo in this lifetime was practically impossible, unless he encountered some extraordinary fortune—such as obtaining an exceptional spirit bone or a ten-thousand-year Soul Ring that transformed his physique.
Silves Grand Spirit Arena, Central Grand Spirit Arena.
The place was especially lively today.