The vault above Slaughter City, that dark crimson glow which had been frozen for who knew how many years, split open.
A dark crimson pillar of light descended vertically from the rift, shining onto the very center of the arena. A figure slowly emerged from within it.
He wore dark crimson armor, his face pale and stern, his long hair falling to his waist. His eyes were a pure blood-red.
A faint blood-colored mist surrounded him, and even the air warped slightly whenever it drew near him.
The King of Slaughter.
Throughout all of Slaughter City, no one was unfamiliar with that name.
He stepped out of the pillar of light and stood at the edge of the arena, looking down upon Bing Yekong from above.
There was no emotion in those blood-red eyes, yet his mere presence was enough to make even Titled Douluo-level experts' legs go weak.
Bing Yekong stood at the center of the arena and met his gaze.
The King of Slaughter watched him for a while before suddenly speaking. His voice was cool and distant, as though it came from somewhere unimaginably far away. "9507, Ice Emperor Asura. Two years, one hundred matches, all victories. Very impressive."
Bing Yekong nodded slightly. "Thank you."
The corner of the King of Slaughter's mouth twitched into something that was almost a smile. "According to Slaughter City's rules, a hundred-match victor has two choices. First, accept the status of Slaughter God and become an honored guest of Slaughter City, enjoying the city's highest privileges and exemptions. You may live and cultivate anywhere in the city without having to pay Bloody Mary again. The Hell Slaughter Arena will also reserve an exclusive seat for you. If you wish, you may even become one of this place's enforcers."
He paused, and