Warm-Up

Sabaody Archipelago, Slave Arena.

This was where the rich and nobles came to enjoy themselves, and where slaves suffered their nightmares.

They had been sold here by slave traders to take part in inhumane death matches.

The defeated were torn apart by beasts, while the victors could only wait for the next match—and their turn to become the defeated.

That was the fate of slaves.

Beneath the shouts, money, laughter, and flowers, all that flowed was one pool after another of foul, sticky blood...

"Ladies and gentlemen~~! Are you ready?"

Inside the arena, the veteran host stood on the viewing platform, skillfully rousing the crowd.

"Today's match will once again be narrated by your old friend—yours truly!"

"Ooooooh!"

"..."

The audience answered the host's call, and the atmosphere soared to a fever pitch.

"Next up, it's time for our usual pre-match warm-up!"

The host swept his hand through the air, signaling to the arena staff.

Clank, clank, clank...

As a burly man slowly pulled on a chain, the iron gate on one side of the arena swung open, and more than a dozen figures came out.

Most of them looked exhausted. They could barely walk without staggering, and their spirits were utterly broken.

It was only to be expected.

After all, every one of them had an "Explosion Collar" around their neck, and the skin beneath was already rubbed raw and bloody.

A "slave collar" was a specially made shackle for slaves, fitted with a bomb. If the slave tried to escape or disobeyed, the slave traders would simply blow their head off.

Bound like this, the slaves had no choice but to step into the arena and face certain death, even if they were terrified, all to become a source of amusement for the spectators.

"Now, now, it seems today's challengers aren't very enthusiastic. Or perhaps they need a little something to liven things up?"

The host let out a string of strange laughs, paying no mind to the slaves' terrified expressions as he snapped his fingers toward the iron gate on the opposite side.

"Then let's give the warmest round of applause to welcome today's first 'hunter'!"

"Oooh!"

"Here it comes!"

"..."

Amid wave after wave of cheers, the iron bars on the other side were opened.

A massive black shadow slowly emerged, accompanied by a series of low growls. A blood-curdling stench filled the air.

Drawn in by a great many heavy chains, a gigantic tiger was led into the arena by several burly men.

It was enormous, over ten meters tall and nearly twenty meters long.

Drool dripped from its fangs, and thick, sticky blood still clung to the corners of its mouth.

"Everyone, this is the beast from the New World—the Baduwin Tiger!"

Just as mentioned earlier, wherever there was profit to be made, someone would always be willing to do the business.

Capturing beasts from the New World was dangerous, but nowhere near dangerous enough to outweigh the huge profits it brought!

"Roar!"

The Baduwan Tiger let out a deafening roar, making the audience's cheers grow even louder.

"We're doomed..."

Among the slaves, a fat middle-aged man in a tattered suit clutched his head, curling up as tightly as he could and trembling.

"Damn pirates! They stole my cargo—that was everything I owned!"

"How did I end up bankrupt..."

"My factory, my house, my ship—they're all gone. In the end, I had to come here to pay off my debts..."

The fat man muttered, his voice breaking into a sob.

"I'm dead. I'm dead..."

"..."

The other slaves were no different.

Some were ordinary people who had gone bankrupt and fallen on hard times. Others had been captured by pirates or slave traders and sold here.

In other words, the vast majority of them were utterly defenseless!

Even those who could fight—unlucky pirates or merchant-ship guards, for example—shouldn't forget one thing.

If slave traders had been able to capture them, how could they possibly stand a chance against a beast from the New World?

So they were probably doomed—and doomed to die horribly.

There would be no struggle, and certainly nothing that could be called "entertaining."

Yet the audience still loved it.

These people had paid a fortune to watch the match. They weren't there to enjoy a "fight." They simply wanted to "let off steam"!

They had to see others suffer. They had to see others die!

Only then could they find a little pleasure in this chaotic age...

Almost all the slaves were trembling, huddled by the iron-barred gate, not daring to take a step forward.

That was precisely why the strange "someone" among them stood out so much.

He was a man wearing a long coat.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, with no slave collar around his neck. He looked excited and curious as he surveyed his surroundings.

People like him weren't particularly rare.

He was probably some hotheaded upstart eager to make a name for himself, tricked by the arena's management into coming here to die.

"Good, you've waited long enough!"

The guards all withdrew, leaving only the Baduwan Tiger and the slaves in the arena.

At the host's command, the guards on the raised platform unlocked the chains binding the Baduwan Tiger.

Clank, clank, clank...

In an instant, the Baduwan Tiger twisted around, its massive body turning as it tore the remaining chains from itself. Then it opened its mouth wide.

Crack!

Even the muzzle restricting its bloody maw was twisted apart.

The Baduwan Tiger widened its eyes, its belly growling with hunger as it searched for food.

There!

It fixed its gaze on the slaves, eyes gleaming with bloodlust.

It scraped the ground with its forepaws and growled, ready to attack, poised to spring!

"..."

The slaves fell silent, every one of them crushed beneath the weight of fear.

Then someone suddenly shouted, "Run!"

In an instant, the Baduwan Tiger and the slaves all sprang into action.

The tiger charged forward at full speed, while the slaves scattered in every direction.

But they were trapped inside a gigantic arena. No matter how fast they ran, where could they go?

The scene descended into chaos.

Seeing this, the excitement in the stands grew, and the host seized the moment to shout:

"Now, let's guess how many people will still be alive in ten minutes!"

"Anyone who wants to place a bet, get started!"

"..."

Whoosh!

The Baduwan Tiger brought one paw crashing down on the ground.

The earth caved in at once, leaving a huge crater.

Two slaves were standing at its edge, and the tiger's claws had come within inches of them.

"Th-that was close..."

"Don't just stand there—run!"

The two slaves hurried away, and the Baduwan Tiger immediately went after the others.

This time, it set its sights on the fat middle-aged man who had been talking the most.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Baduwan Tiger's paws slammed down one after another, and the fat man barely managed to dodge them.

"Pant, pant... I can't go on much longer..."

The fat man was running out of strength. At the same time, he prayed, "That tiger hasn't hit me yet. Maybe I still have a chance..."

"Haha!"

A hearty laugh rang out, interrupting the fat man's thoughts.

He kept running and glanced to the side, where he spotted the particularly conspicuous figure.

The man turned toward him and waved. "Hello, I'm Aiven Lindsey."

The fat man hurriedly replied, "Hello, I'm... No, wait!"

He came to his senses and shouted, "Is this really the time for introductions? Run for your life!"

"Ah, there's actually no need."

As Lindsey jogged, he pointed toward the Baduwan Tiger right behind them and explained, "It's in a cat's nature to toy with its prey. It could have killed everyone a long time ago. It's just playing around."

"Don't say something so terrifying so casually!"

The fat man was on the verge of a breakdown.

He was already terrified out of his mind, but somehow, this man beside him kept saying things that stopped him from getting properly worked up.

He didn't want to spend his last moments dying alongside such a bizarre man!

But as the two spoke, the Baduwan Tiger finally seemed to have had enough of playing.

It suddenly sped up and raised a paw, ready to swat the fat man to death.

At that critical moment, Lindsey grabbed the fat man by the collar and kept running, dragging him along.

Seeing how pale the fat man was, Lindsey couldn't help laughing. "Haha, don't be nervous! Let's play a little longer!"

The fat man: "..."

Crocodile: "..."

Crocodile: "Pull all my money out."

The Arena Boss beside him was startled. He followed Crocodile's gaze and saw Aiven Lindsey, then asked in confusion, "You want to bet all your money on that man?"

"I... No."

Crocodile thought it over briefly, then shook his head decisively. "Pull it all out. I'll figure something else out."

"This..."

The Arena Boss hesitated. After all, it was a deal where both sides stood to gain.

But when he saw Crocodile's body gradually turning into sand, he could only grit his teeth and agree.

After taking care of his funds, Crocodile rose and left without a moment's hesitation.

He needed to go to the harbor and prepare a ship for their escape.

Why?

Because he had a feeling.

The happier Aiven Lindsey, that Primitive Man, was having fun right now, the bigger the mess he would probably cause in a little while!