"And what is the price?"
Zhao Cheng continued asking.
The person before him was utterly out of place with the world before his eyes.
Zhao Cheng had never imagined that the Dream Competition would one day come looking for him.
He knew a little about this event. Its organizers were said not to be human, but "gods" from a higher dimension—higher-dimensional deities who held such competitions for entertainment.
As for any deeper secrets, Zhao Cheng knew nothing.
"Perhaps you will die. Perhaps you will not. It all depends on your performance. If your show is exciting enough, if enough viewers are willing to vote for you, then even if you fail, you may receive a second chance."
The girl spoke in a tone devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
"So, what is your choice?"
"Deal!"
Zhao Cheng reached out and took the wristwatch resting in the girl's hand.
What did a dying man with nothing left have to fear?!
Using his soon-to-die body to gamble on that faint chance—Zhao Cheng felt it was well worth it.
Indeed, the greater possibility was that he would merely be cannon fodder used to create a dramatic effect. But more often than not, something even sadder was not even being qualified to serve as cannon fodder.
The wristwatch was undoubtedly some kind of black technology as well. The moment Zhao Cheng saw it, he instinctively knew that putting it on meant gaining the qualifications to compete.
The instant he put on the watch, its functions, along with the rules and relevant details of the Dream Competition, appeared in his mind.
When the girl saw Zhao Cheng choose the wristwatch, a ripple passed through her deathly still eyes.
"Host, with Contestant Number Seven's qualities, even his chances of passing the first round are slim. Why waste