The Decision Had Already Been Made for You to Become the Champion
Every contestant must wear an auxiliary Combat Detection Device. This new rule, which was conceived by the Grandmaster on a whim, left every contestant utterly bewildered.
Especially after the official statement was released, all the contestants were completely confused.
How can we protect the lives of every participant to the greatest extent possible?
Is this for real or a joke?
Once you step into the arena, life and death are in the hands of fate, and wealth and honor are determined by heaven. This has long been a consensus among the people of Sakaar. How come you, the Grandmaster who first created the gladiatorial arena, are now concerned about the safety of the contestants?
Even the most foolish person could sense something was amiss.
They raised questions, but the authorities consistently ignored them.
"The final interpretation of this Championship Tournament rests with the arena."
Annoyed by the questions, the arena staff simply pointed to the rules of the competition and delivered a slap in the face to the group of troublemakers.
If you don't want to fight, then get out.
Caught up in the slim hope of returning home, the group of powerful individuals exiled to Sakaar looked at each other, and finally reluctantly accepted it, donning the so-called auxiliary Combat Detection Device to their cochleas.
However, this so-called Combat Detection Device did not prove effective from the start of the qualifiers.
Those who are destined to die will still die, and those who are destined to be crippled will still be crippled.
Qualifying rounds, group stage.
After two rounds of selection, apart from Beckett, the only one who was guaranteed a spot in the round of 16, the other 15 people who got tickets to the knockout stage were all ruthless individuals who had fought their way through countless battles.
"So, what exactly is the significance of this thing?"
Inside the VIP box, Beckett stood by the window overlooking the arena, fiddling with the Combat Detection Device in his hand, looking quite puzzled.
Woz checked it, and the thing in his hand was really just a testing device; there was nothing special about it.
"Who knows? Maybe the Grandmaster had a change of heart and didn't want to see the contestants die," Hela said with amusement, her legs crossed. Her relaxed posture as she swung her legs made Beckett frown.
He always felt that Hela was hiding something from him, but he didn't want to ask.
Just like the origin of this VIP box, Hela brought them here suddenly.
I must say, the view from here is absolutely fantastic.
For example, like this.
"Bartholomana wins!"
Hela had barely finished speaking when the outcome of the arena was already decided.
In the first round of the first round of the 16-to-8 elimination tournament, Bartholomana, a player from the west of Sakaar, kicked Dronio, seriously injuring him when Deronio suddenly fell to the ground for unknown reasons.
In the second round, they took advantage of his weakness and finished Dronio off on the spot.
Of course, in the next round, Beckett once again saw the Combat Detection Device on Dronio's ear suddenly emit an electric current, causing him to lose his ability to move for a moment.
Beckett raised an eyebrow and smiled.
Hela turned her gaze to the bearded Bartholomana was celebrating wildly, and felt a pang of pity.
"Even the referee is one of Bartholomana's people?"
"The Champion was directly admitted?"
The Other, who had been indulging in a feast, puffed out his cheeks and looked worried.
Beside him was Jennifer, who was chatting with Zola.
The two were both from the Xiangluo Tribe, and after getting to know each other, they found they had some common ground, especially after the competition was found to be rigged.
"I don't know the specifics, but I have heard a rumor that the Champion of this Championship Tournament has already been decided in advance."
"I don't know if it's him."
Because of her past interactions with Beckett, Zola was directly assigned by the Grandmaster to be near Hela and Beckett.
"Mr. Beckett, please get ready, your match is about to begin." An electronic voice suddenly sounded in the VIP box, reminding Beckett to prepare.
"It's begun, a long Warpath." Hela yawned. For her, who already knew the outcome, each round of the competition was destined to be agonizing.
She didn't know why she agreed to stay and watch the whole thing with the Grandmaster; she must have something wrong with her brain.
She would have gone back to Asgard long ago if she had that much time.
Is it a long time?
As his opponent walked out of the wrestlers' tunnel in a proper manner, Beckett, staring at the ring, smashed the window of the VIP box with a single punch.
A shower of shards of glass crashed to the ground as a figure descended from the sky, his cold, stern face appearing on the broadcast screen for all viewers.
"Hey! You're the one who got into the top sixteen through a special admission program—"
Before the opponent wielding the meteor hammer could finish speaking, a beam of light pierced through his chest...
The speed of the victory was beyond anyone's expectations.
Even the referees, who already knew the Champion was predetermined, couldn't react in time.
No?
With that kind of ability, why would they need to pre-select someone?
"Victory, victors—"
"Wait a moment."
The referee, who was about to announce the result of the match, was interrupted by Beckett.
"Taking them one by one is too time-consuming."
"All of you come at me at once."
With his arms crossed over his chest, Beckett stood tall in the center of the ring, raising his head and calmly provoking the nerves of every competitor.
"Uh, this, Mr. Beckett." The referee, who had come on with a mission, was losing control of the situation.
Especially when he heard the deafening roar from the stands that nearly lifted the roof off the arena.
They're all just looking for a good show, not wanting things to get out of hand.
This is the first competition, and it's one thing for the Champion to be predetermined, but the predetermined Champion even wants to cause trouble.
"Can't make a decision?"
Beckett's lips curled up in a subtle smile, a smile that sent a chill down the referee's spine.
"Let him hit him."
After hearing the voice of the Grandmaster, the referee immediately opened the entrance channel for the fifteen contestants.
The deafening roar within the arena reached an even higher level!
The uproar reached its peak when all fifteen powerful individuals, who felt insulted, descended onto the arena.
"Oh, you're here?"
Boom!
An invisible shockwave instantly swept across the entire arena, centered on Beckett. His golden hair flew wildly, and the explosive energy beams even drowned out the deafening roar!
The Grandmaster, sitting alone in the VIP room, adopted a thoughtful posture, lost in thought...
He now understands why Thanos and Odin are so protective of their children.
He would be nervous if it were his son.
So here's the question:
Should he get Beckett a different rib?
The previous reward was just a finger; if it were replaced with a pork rib, the soup would taste even better, and the divinity contained within it would be more intense.
The Grandmaster was a little reluctant, but thinking of the Collector whose fate was now unknown, he gritted his teeth and pulled out a spare rib...
The universe, Knowhere.
The Collector, bruised and swollen, limped back to his base camp, tears streaming down his face...
Still working overtime
I'm so miserable, sob sob.