Threat

The next morning.

The sound of the cave gate opening startled all the Gladiators.

Some sat up, while others stood, all looking beyond the gate.

A large number of Security Automata had sealed off the path leading outside. Such a show of force made it clear to everyone that the Arena's owner had arrived.

The Arena Manager still strode into the cave, his face cold.

He walked straight past all the Gladiators, stopped before Qin Xa, and began shouting with his head tilted back.

"Do you think you're especially powerful?"

"In this place that belongs to me!"

"Your abilities aren't even as useful as the pen in my hand. If I want to, I can write down a few words and have you killed! ..."

Hearing him shout, Qin Xa looked down at the Arena Manager expressionlessly and listened until the man had said everything he wanted to say, including no shortage of insults.

Only after the Arena Manager had shouted himself hoarse did Qin Xa slowly speak. "So, you came because of your brother and nephew? You say you can kill me with a stroke of your pen, yet you're here barking helplessly like a dog?"

"You even waited an entire night before coming to make trouble for me over your dead nephew."

"Oh, right. Yesterday, you accepted my favor and handled the funeral for both father and son. That would take a night, but only a night. One hole. No need to thank me. I've always enjoyed helping others."

Qin Xa's words were like oil poured onto a blazing fire. The Arena Manager's fury surged, and he continued cursing loudly.

Angron glared at the Arena Manager and clenched his fists.

Kleist grabbed Angron and gently shook his head at him.

Oeno did not stop anyone this time. Now, he was the one who could not remain calm. After picking up a stone from the ground, he slowly moved toward the Arena Manager's back.

"Shut up!"

While the Arena Manager was still yapping away, Qin Xa roared.

Frost formed across the walls. The Arena Manager suddenly wanted, from the depths of his soul, to shut up, so he stopped speaking.

"Why did you just come here and threaten me directly? What were you thinking?" Qin Xa asked, looking puzzled. "Did you think your threats and that so-called killing pen of yours would work? I don't know where I rank among all the Gladiators in the Arena, but I know I'm definitely popular after killing the Praetorian Guard and those Tarko Family bastards."

"The Arena belongs to you? No, of course it doesn't. You're just a dog chained to guard the Arena. The only difference between you and us caged beasts is that you have an owner."

"If I were you, I wouldn't come here to humiliate myself."

As he spoke, Qin Xa analyzed the Arena Manager's motives, as well as his mindset and personality.

From the beginning, this Arena Manager had struck him as astonishingly stupid.

Of course, the man had not acted this stupid at first, but Qin Xa had known he was an idiot after one look.

There was a ninety percent chance that the only reason he had become the Arena Manager was that, among all the qualities of both intelligence and capability, he possessed loyalty.

Qin Xa could even profile the personality of the Arena Manager's master.

He was definitely an arrogant, egotistical control freak who did not care whether his subordinates were qualified for important positions, only whether they were completely loyal and would carry out his orders and will without deviation.

"You are popular, but that only means I can't casually have you dragged out and beaten to death with a single order. I can still have you killed. I'll just make your death more popular, more entertaining for the Nucerians," the Arena Manager said through gritted teeth. "Besides, I didn't come here specifically to pick a fight with you. You're not important enough for that."

"Then you came here specifically to be insulted." Qin Xa smiled. "I don't mind insulting you in a hundred ways that attack your character, but if that gets you off, forget it. ..."

The Arena Manager fell silent for a moment. After holding it in for ages without managing a single forceful retort, he turned to leave. "That noble who said you could make any request has come again. He wants to have lunch with you."

"Lunch with your control-freak master? Forget it. If having that meal let me skin you alive, I'd be quite happy to go."

"You can refuse, of course." The Arena Manager stopped, turned back with a malicious grin, and said, "Lord Tark isn't a petty man, especially when dealing with real slaves. ..."

Qin Xa frowned.

"The gate will remain open until noon. Make your own decision." The Arena Manager turned away again and left directly.

Once that dog guarding the Arena had left, Angron immediately stepped forward. "You absolutely shouldn't have lunch with any noble. I have a bad feeling about this."

"I agree," Kleist added. "And he opened the gate. Maybe this is our chance to escape, or at least gather some information."

After saying that, Kleist looked at Oeno, wanting to ask for his opinion.

Oeno stood where he was with the stone in his hand, lost in thought and saying nothing.

"I have a question," a Gladiator suddenly asked. "We aren't locked in this cave forever. We know the way from here to outside. What information do we still need to gather?"

"We know the way? Yes, we know how to get to the Arena, to that damned place cut off by the energy shield," Kleist roared. "Idiot! That isn't the route we need to know!"

"But no one has ever tried getting outside through the energy shield. Maybe there are mechanisms buried beneath the Red Sand."

"Then try it during the next match! While others are chopping at you, take your time looking. Take your time searching across that vast expanse of Red Sand! ..."

While Kleist argued with the others, Qin Xa observed the Gladiators.

Quite a few of them stared fixedly at the open gate.

The heavy gate that Caesar had once needed to pierce with psychic power now stood open before them all.

Angron was also staring at the gate, clearly hesitating over whether to charge outside.

Most of the people here had been imprisoned for too long. Their desire to escape outweighed everything else.

"This gate isn't made of any remarkable material," Qin Xa said. "If I treated it as food and licked it, my corrosive saliva could melt a hole through it."

Everyone listened to Qin Xa, thinking he was joking, but his expression made it clear that he was not.

"Even if I had seized the Arena Manager's head while he was here and read his memories, I could have learned the way out."

"But this gate and this Arena are not our only obstacles. If none of us wants to die, then we need to think further ahead," Qin Xa continued.

"We need to consider where we can find better weapons after leaving through that gate, not the worthless things we usually use, like harpoons."

"We need to consider what stronger enemies we'll have to fight with those better weapons. We need to consider where we'll settle after escaping the Arena, how we'll face the slave masters' pursuit, and even how we'll free ourselves from them forever—for example, by killing them through an uprising."

"I miss every breath of scorching, burning air outside. My heart tells me that I want to rush out right now."

Qin Xa slowly swept his gaze over every person.

"But the Arena truly isn't the only hell we have to face. I don't want to say it, but compared to what lies ahead, this hell isn't so cruel yet."