Special Prisoner

"Topaz, could you show our guest out?" Grandmaster turned his head toward the armored old woman beside his seat. "Prepare a suite for our esteemed guest. Oh, and don't forget tomorrow's match tickets."

Topaz—the old woman beside Grandmaster who always reminded Richard of Nanny Rong—nodded stiffly and solemnly. "Yes."

Richard thanked him. Before leaving, he exchanged a look with Thor, who was still tied to the chair. Thor winked back at him, his expression seeming to say, "Don't worry. Leave everything to me."

Richard then followed the old woman out of the room.

Not long after he left, another old man emerged from the other side of the room.

The old man had a face that looked as though it had been cast from the same mold as Grandmaster's. Even his hairstyle and makeup were identical. However, he wore a loose black robe, making him look somewhat comical.

The Collector, Grandmaster's brother and likewise one of the Elders of the Universe.

"I've said it more than once, brother, this really won't do," the Collector muttered. "We captured Galactus, and now his daughter is trying every possible way to get him out. At a time like this, you're still constantly letting people in from outside?"

Grandmaster snorted. "The arena needs to keep running. Powerful fighters are indispensable if we want to present more exciting matches."

"Why is this lousy gladiatorial spectacle so important to you?"

"Then why is collecting strange and rare things so important to you?"

The Collector was left speechless.

That was true enough. The Elders of the Universe all regarded their respective hobbies as nearly as important as life itself. If someone forced them to give up their interests, they might very well fight that person to the death.

"The arena is the work of my lifetime, and