Slaughter King

His voice was very soft.

But the next second, the entire arena suddenly shook!

Countless cracks appeared in the ground, and thick blue-gold vines rose from the ground like giant pythons, instantly Entanglement all nine people!

The vines were as thick as an arm, with pale golden veins flowing across their surface, exuding a breathtaking vitality.

Those who were Entanglement struggled desperately, but the vines tightened more and more, pressing their bones down until they creaked.

"What... what is this?!"

"Spirit Skill? Impossible! Spirit Skill cannot be used within the Slaughter City!"

"His Spirit Ring haven't appeared!"

"It's Self-Created Soul Skill! This is Self-Created Soul Skill!"

In the stands, the spectators were first terrified, then shocked, and finally erupted into frenzied shouts!

A cold glint flashed in Tang San's eyes.

He clenched his right hand.

Those giant, blue-gold wooden hands suddenly tightened!

"Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff!"

With a series of muffled thuds, the bodies of the nine people exploded simultaneously under the immense force, turning into pools of blood that spilled across the center of the field.

The blood flowed into a small stream, gleaming with a cold, eerie light under the purple moonlight.

In the center of the arena, only Tang San remained.

He withdrew his hand, and the vines slowly retreated into the ground and disappeared, as if they had never existed.

A deafening roar of cheers erupted from the stands.

"Eight three five nine! Eight three five nine! Eight three five nine!"

The audience chanted Tang San's code name wildly, their eyes filled with fervor.

In the Slaughter City, only a handful of people can use self-created Self-Created Soul Skill Self-Created Soul Skill.

And someone like Tang San, who could instantly kill nine people with a single move, is unheard of.

Tang San remained calm as he turned and walked off the field. His steps were unhurried, and his long, blue-gold hair fluttered gently in the wind.

Dai Tianyu stood at the edge of the stands, arms crossed, a wide smile spreading across his face.

He gave Tang San a thumbs-up and shouted, "Xiao San, well done!"

Tang San walked to his side, and the two smiled at each other.

Dai Tianyu patted him on the shoulder. "Watch me now."

A staff member came over and handed him a wooden plaque.

Dai Tianyu took it and strode towards the center of the field.

His steps were steady, his black hair fluttered gently in the wind, and a defiant smile played on his lips.

Tang San stood at the edge of the stands, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the black figure.

Nine people were already standing in the center of the field.

They looked at Dai Tianyu as he approached, their eyes filled with fear.

Yesterday, that black-haired guy killed Iron Hammer with a single punch.

Now that he's here, will I even be able to leave alive?

Dai Tianyu walked to the center of the field, stopped, and glanced at the nine people. A sinister smile spread across his face, "Who wants to go first?"

No one dared to move.

Dai Tianyu shook his head, his eyes filled with disappointment. "Then let's all come at once."

The nine men exchanged a glance, let out a roar, and charged at him!

Dai Tianyu stood still, motionless.

The moment the first person rushed in front of him, his figure vanished from the spot!

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

A series of dull thuds rang out as the nine men were struck as if by a giant hammer, flying backward and crashing heavily against the wall at the edge of the stands. They coughed up blood, slid limply to the ground, and never got up again.

The battle was over in less than three breaths.

Dai Tianyu withdrew his fist, patted his trouser leg, and acted as if nothing had happened.

A deafening roar of cheers erupted from the stands.

"8357! 8357! 8357!"

Dai Tianyu waved his hand without turning his head and strode out of the venue.

Tang San watched him walk over, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Dai Tianyu walked to his side, the two exchanged another glance, then turned and walked off the field at the same time.

Behind us, the frenzied shouts continued.

Tang San secretly rejoiced.

Fortunately, my master taught me how to control my Martial Soul through my own will when I was young.

[This includes the Self-Created Soul Skill, such as the Forest of Souls Locking Technique, which my master later taught me. These skills allowed me to maintain my strength even in a place where Spirit Ring and Spirit Skill were unusable.]

He took a deep breath, suppressed the distracting thoughts in his mind, and followed Dai Tianyu's steps.

One year later, deep within the Slaughter City.

A dark and spacious room.

The room had no windows, no lights, only a few dim purple flames flickering on the walls. Those flames emitted an eerie glow, casting the room in shifting light.

In the very center of the room was an exceptionally large chair.

The chair was inlaid with blue and purple crystals, which were outlined in the shape of a Skeleton, its empty eye sockets gleaming with a cold light. Apart from this chair, everything here was dark red—dark red walls, dark red carpet, dark red pillars.

The entire room was filled with a suffocating and chilly atmosphere.

"They won another game."

A cold, eerie female voice echoed from the shadows, carrying a complex mix of emotions.

"I know."

A tall figure slowly walked out from behind the giant chair and sat down.

In the darkness, his features were obscured; one could only vaguely discern that he was tall and thin, wearing a dark red robe embroidered with gold patterns that gleamed eerily under the purple flames.

His face was hidden in the shadows, only his eyes occasionally flashing a scarlet light.

Slaughter King.

"Great King," the chilling female voice continued, tinged with a hint of awe.

"Should we start contacting them? The Slaughter City hasn't had any truly powerful individuals join for a long time."

"The three of them, in terms of both strength and potential, far surpass those previous good-for-nothings."

"Tell me your opinion of them," the Slaughter King said calmly.

The woman's voice paused for a moment, then continued, "I have been observing them for a year."

"Among the three, the Cold-Faced Yama is the strongest. He possesses profound Soul Power, rich combat experience, and is ruthless in his attacks, never hesitating."

She paused, then continued, "But in terms of combat skills alone, the other two are in no way inferior to him."

"The Fierce Tiger King seems born to kill. His fighting instincts are extremely strong; he strikes decisively and never hesitates."

"Furthermore, the evil intent revealed by his Martial Soul makes him even more..."

Her voice held a hint of surprise.

"As for the Asura King, his Soul Power isn't particularly strong, but his various skills are terrifyingly powerful. His movements are unpredictable, his attacks are cunning, and every strike is precise and deadly."

"Moreover, his endless stream of Self-Created Soul Skill sometimes makes his subordinates wonder if he is actually subject to the limitations of his domain!"

After she finished speaking, she waited quietly for the Slaughter King's response.

A brief silence fell over the room.

After a moment, the Slaughter King finally spoke, his voice low and deep. "Then do you think the three of them can complete a hundred rounds and challenge the Hell Road?"

The female voice hesitated for a moment, then said, "Judging from the current situation, completing one hundred matches is only a matter of time. With their strength, they have no rivals in the Hell Slaughter Arena. But the Hell Road..."

She paused, her tone becoming more serious. "I'm afraid we won't be able to get there."

The Slaughter King coldly said, "No need for contact."

"Why?" The female voice asked with a hint of surprise. "Great King, don't you wish for our Slaughter City to become stronger?"

"These three individuals are all exceptional talents. Although we had an agreement with the Spirit Hall a thousand years ago to not interfere with each other, who knows when they might break that agreement? We need our own strength."

She emerged from the shadows, revealing a pale face.

She was a woman dressed in a long black dress, with delicate features but no color in her face, and deep-set eyes, as if she hadn't seen the sunlight in a long time.

She stared at the Slaughter King figure, her eyes filled with bewilderment.

The Slaughter King didn't turn around, but coldly said, "The Spirit Hall doesn't have time to deal with us right now. A year ago, a guest came. Do you remember?"

The woman was taken aback. "A guest?"

"Yes. It's Tang Hao, one of the only two remaining God of Slaughter in the world."

The woman's pupils suddenly contracted. "It's... that Clear Sky Douluo? The God of Slaughter, Tang Hao?"

The Slaughter King said calmly, "You guessed right. Those three people are related to that God of Slaughter."

The woman fell silent.

The atmosphere in the room froze for a moment.

The woman spoke with difficulty, "Could it be... those three people were brought by Tang Hao?"

The Slaughter King did not answer, but simply nodded slightly.

The woman's face grew even paler, and her voice trembled slightly. "No wonder... no wonder the Cold-Faced Yama and the other two cooperated so well, no wonder they never provoked anyone or befriended anyone."

"So they never came to join the Slaughter City in the first place..."

The Slaughter King said calmly, "Now you understand, don't you? Those few are destined not to be of use to me."

The woman lowered her head, remained silent for a moment, and finally could only nod with difficulty. "Yes... I understand, Your Majesty!"

The Slaughter King waved his hand dismissively, his tone indifferent. "Alright, you may leave."

The woman bowed respectfully, then turned and disappeared into the darkness.

Only the Slaughter King remained in the room.

He sat in that giant Skeleton chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrests, his scarlet eyes gleaming in the darkness.

Just then, a figure suddenly appeared in the shadows behind him.

The figure slowly emerged from the darkness, clad in a long, dark purple robe, with a cold and beautiful face.

As she appeared, a sarcastic female voice rang out, echoing in the empty room:

"What? The mighty Slaughter King is afraid of Tang Hao?"