"Of course, if you have any requests, Fellow Daoist, you may speak them and let me hear them," Gong Mao said.
Lu Ye raised two fingers.
Gong Mao did not understand what he meant.
"For the proceeds of this battle, I want twenty percent," Lu Ye said slowly.
Gong Mao first froze, then his eyes widened, looking as though he suspected he had misheard.
Lu Ye merely looked at him calmly, firmly conveying his stance.
Suddenly, Gong Mao laughed. There was a trace of mockery in his laughter. He did think highly of Lu Ye, but that did not mean he would agree to such an absurd demand.
He lifted his teacup and took a sip. Just as he was about to speak, Lu Ye beat him to it. "Perhaps no one has ever negotiated such terms with the Battle Arena, but everything has a first time. Why not give it a try, Fellow Daoist? I dare not guarantee anything else, but I can guarantee that I will survive."
Gong Mao's expression turned slightly grave. "Are you confident you can defeat a Merging Dao Ninth Level cultivator?"
Lu Ye looked at him calmly, his entire body radiating confidence visible to the naked eye.
Gong Mao said, "Even so, the Battle Arena cannot agree to your terms."
Lu Ye smiled. "I know you cannot agree to it, but you can ask the people above you."
Gong Mao's face darkened. "A newborn calf is not afraid of a tiger indeed. Fellow Daoist, your words are rather too grand." If every trivial matter had to alarm those above, what use would there be for a steward like him?
A Merging Dao Sixth Layer defeating a Merging Dao Ninth Level was certainly astonishing, and it would bring great benefits to the Battle Arena. But