Recruitment

After returning to his cell, Harrot ate and drank, then lay down to sleep. He planned to get up and read when no one was around at night. If he went to sleep now, he would wake up around the middle of the night.

Harrot quickly fell into a deep sleep, not waking until the latter half of the night after sleeping straight through from dusk.

Harrot yawned and looked at the bright moon in the night sky, marveling at his good luck. He took out the "Sword Fighting Manual" from his inventory and began studying it.

The "Sword Fighting Manual" was not very long, with at most a few thousand words. But it was not like reading a novel; it had to be studied carefully and thoroughly. The book detailed all kinds of sword techniques and training methods.

Harrot carefully considered every part of it, gradually absorbing its contents. He had to admit that the book was exceptionally well written. Just reading a small portion of it had already benefited him immensely.

Just as Harrot had been fully engrossed in reading for over an hour, he suddenly heard footsteps. They were not loud, but in the stillness of midnight, they sounded especially piercing.

Harrot quickly put the book back into his inventory, lay down, and pretended to be asleep. The book in his inventory showed a reading progress of 7%. He could not help wondering who would come to the cells in the middle of the night.

Harrot's doubts were soon answered. A thin middle-aged man with a long scar across his face approached Harrot's cell in secret with two attendants.

Scarface—him? What was he here for? Harrot silently pondered as he continued pretending to sleep.

Scarface had an attendant wake Harrot. One of them took out a waterskin and poured some water through the iron bars, splashing it right onto Harrot's head.

Harrot ended his act, shook his head, and looked at the three men by the cell door as though he had just woken up.

"Hello, new gladiator. I'm one of the Gladiatorial Arena's managers. I have something to discuss with you."

Scarface spoke in a low voice once Harrot appeared awake.

Harrot had nothing to say to this sort of scum, but he did not want to offend him for no reason either. He replied, "What is it?"

Seeing that Harrot had not immediately told him to get lost, Scarface thought there was hope. Every other gladiator he had approached had told him to scram without even giving him a chance to speak. At last, he had found someone he could communicate with. He had to find a way to win him over.

"Are you interested in working for me?"

"Don't let The Bald Man's current arrogance fool you. My standing before Count Sarik is far higher than his. I'll soon kick him out. There's no future in following him."

"As long as you submit to me, once I drive out that bald barbarian, I can grant you the privilege of never having to fight in the arena. You'll only need to help me discipline those disobedient gladiators. I may even find a way to get you out and make you one of my trusted subordinates!"

Scarface had come up with a good way to deal with The Bald Man, and he could not help smiling smugly.

Since the existing gladiators had already completely sided with The Bald Man, he would win over the newcomers instead!

As long as he slowly built up his strength, once his faction took shape, he would make up for the embarrassing lack of gladiators under his command. Then he could naturally suggest to the Count that The Bald Man be driven out.

More importantly, after witnessing The Bald Man's combat strength during the day, Scarface no longer dared to confront him head-on. He desperately wanted a powerful expert under his command as well.

Harrot found Scarface's words hard to believe. Recruit me? Are you serious?

Seeing Scarface's solemn expression, Harrot found it rather absurd. Did this idiot not know that his reputation among the gladiators was permanently in the negatives?

Not only was Scarface himself a sinister and despicable villain, but he had also established the hatred-inducing Man-Beast Combat. As a former slave trader, he had never regarded gladiators as human beings deep down.

In contrast, The Bald Man's reputation was maxed out. Without harming the Gladiatorial Arena's interests, he fought for the gladiators' welfare as much as possible. He had once been a gladiator himself and got along with them all like brothers.

And you still wanted to win people over under these circumstances? Worse yet, the terms you offered were not only miserly, but couldn't even be fulfilled immediately! Was something wrong with your brain, or did you think something was wrong with mine?

Harrot was truly shocked by Scarface's stupidity.

Harrot knew perfectly well that if he did not accept the olive branch Scarface had offered, he would offend him beyond repair. There was no need to say anything nice, then. He might as well tear off all pretense.

"Work for you? Dream on, you piece of trash. I'd love nothing more than to twist your head off and kick it around like a ball!"

During the day, Scarface had beaten Hark and Stone, who could be considered the first and second friends Harrot had made in this other world. Cursing him out now made Harrot feel much better.

"W-what? You lowly slave, you dare refuse me? A slave like you dares insult me?"

Scarface clenched his fists in rage, veins bulging. Even his voice trembled as he glared at Harrot with wide eyes. He wished he could immediately take a whip and lash this ungrateful slave viciously, but unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to Harrot right now.

"Just you wait. I'll show you the consequences of offending me!"

After leaving behind that threat, Scarface departed.

Scarface was scum who believed only in profit and cared nothing for feelings. He also harbored deep disgust toward slaves, believing they were beasts to be disposed of as others pleased, with no right to resist their masters.

Even amid his anger, he truly could not understand why Harrot remained unmoved after he had offered such generous terms. He had given Harrot the chance to go from a slave with no human rights at all to his personal guard. For a lowly slave, was that not the greatest gift imaginable?

In an era lacking education and knowledge, most people treated the lessons they drew from life as absolute truth and used them as the standard by which they viewed everything in the world. For those who had gone down the wrong path, the richer their life experience was, the easier it became for them to commit foolish acts.

After Scarface had gone far away, Harrot gave a derisive snort. What an idiot. He was about to die and still didn't know it.

Harrot could have chosen to play along or hedge his bets, avoiding an immediate falling-out with Scarface. But he firmly chose to stand with The Bald Man.

It was not entirely a matter of emotion. After seeing Scarface's stupidity, Harrot believed that even from a practical standpoint, Scarface could never defeat The Bald Man.

It was simple. In Harrot's eyes, Scarface was merely cannon fodder Count Sarik had thrown out—a target, not even a chess piece. Yet he still believed himself to be the Count's trusted confidant.

Harrot had received a modern education and often watched Yi Zhongtian's Lecture Room. He was very familiar with the political tactics of those in power.

Whether it was Hark or The Bald Man, both came from Commoners. Even if they had received some education, it would have been extremely limited. With the upper classes deliberately restricting access to important knowledge, no matter how much more life experience they possessed, they still could not see things as clearly as Harrot, a transmigrator, could.

Count Sarik was Marquis Harlaus's eldest son. His resources and connections far surpassed those of ordinary Counts. Besides, Old Marquis stood behind him. As one of Lucanir's only three Marquises, Old Marquis undoubtedly wielded enormous influence.

Why could a mere slave trader find magical beasts and monsters, while the Count himself could not?

Why could Scarface think of such an obvious scheme as Man-Beast Combat, while the Count could not? Even if he did not care enough about the Gladiatorial Arena to think deeply about it, surely someone under him could have thought of it.

The core of the Gladiatorial Arena was its gladiators. Without outstanding gladiators, even if you captured monsters, who would you have hunt them down? Could the Count really fail to understand such a simple truth?

If Count Sarik were an idiot, he would not have promoted The Bald Man to replace Fatty as the manager of the Gladiatorial Arena.

In many novels and films, nobles were all portrayed as pigheaded fools, greedy and lustful trash. But this was a fantasy world with powerful magical beasts and monsters! A fantasy world with elves, orcs, dwarves, and all kinds of powerful Demi-humans!

From Harrot's memories, the racial attributes of Demi-humans, orcs, dwarves, and elves were each stronger than humanity's. Magical beasts and monsters caused frequent disasters, and weak humans had an extremely difficult time surviving in this world.

Harrot did not believe that the high-ranking nobles of the human kingdoms in this world were useless fools!

Clearly, the shrewd Count already knew how to make enormous profits. But it was better for someone else to propose such a thing than for him to propose it himself.

Harrot maliciously speculated that Count Sarik might have specifically sent someone to give Scarface a hint.

Scarface believed that he had taken the initiative to approach the Count and presented him with a brilliant money-making idea, becoming a favorite at the Count's side. But in truth, the Count had specifically selected a foolish man like him—someone with connections but no backing—to serve as a target.

When the dissatisfaction of the gladiators and the other Gladiatorial Arena managers had built to the point of eruption, the Count could throw Scarface out to appease public anger. Not only would he avoid damaging his reputation, he would also gain extra loyalty from his subordinates.

Even without looking at it from the perspective of conspiracy, but merely from the perspective of how those in power used people, Scarface was still an expendable piece destined to be discarded.

The Bald Man had been promoted from among the gladiators by the Count. He was upright and kind-hearted, and to repay the Count's favor, he would certainly work wholeheartedly. His ability and loyalty were both guaranteed.

And what about Scarface? He was sinister and cunning, formerly a slave trader who valued money over feelings. He had no loyalty to speak of, and his abilities amounted to nothing more than underhanded tricks that could not stand in the light.

No matter how Harrot looked at it, Scarface's value could never compare to The Bald Man's.

After analyzing it all, Harrot felt completely secure. Just as he was about to take out his book and continue reading, he was interrupted again.

Not long after Scarface had left, The Bald Man arrived outside Harrot's cell.

Harrot thought The Bald Man had probably seen Scarface leaving. He could not let there be a misunderstanding, and just as he was about to explain, The Bald Man spoke first and dispelled his concerns.

"I heard your conversation with Scarface. Honestly, I'm deeply moved that you could support me like this when you've only just arrived!"

Harrot froze for a moment. Fortunately, he had not tried to play along or hedge his bets, or The Bald Man would have heard it. Feeling relieved, he replied, "What the hell is that piece of trash? I'd rather die than work for him!"

It was a rare chance to meet the boss alone, so Harrot had to raise his favorability. He knew that cursing Scarface now was the best way to close the distance between them.

Sure enough, The Bald Man's lips curled upward after hearing Harrot's words, and he likewise cursed Scarface a few times.

Afterward, The Bald Man used a key to open Harrot's cell door, turned around, and walked away. He waved a hand, signaling Harrot to follow.

What was this about? Though puzzled, Harrot followed him anyway.